The Dread Descendant (The Dread Descendant, #1)

by Lauren Cate Leake

“Magic calls to magic. Darkness calls to darkness. Blood calls to blood.”

“How?” She looked back at him. “How did you know I was in danger?” Mal answered with certainty. “Like calls to like.”

“The Black-fanged Fire Ground Viper,” said Elgin, “often referred to by Bellator as ‘little viper,’ due to its small and innocent appearance, yet venomous nature and deadly bite. . .” Mal leaned towards her, his lips close to her ear. “Perhaps that’s what I should refer to you as,” whispered Mal, “little viper.”

Beautifully done, Little Viper.

All the fortunes of the world couldn’t buy her loyalty. No offer of power could buy her love. She wanted to be drenched in him. In his scent and his skin. Suffocated by his Magic.

“They will not take you from me,” he assured her.

“because you know that I don’t bleed crimson. My blood is fucking gold.”

He had been magnificent. The very definition of divine violence. And he had done it for her.

“I swore to you that I would protect her,” said Mal. His eyes slid to her. “I will die before she does.”

Mal would die before she did. It was now written in Magic. Unbreakable magic sealed in an unbreakable bond between them.

“When the castle began falling, and you looked at me like you were going to die, I nearly couldn’t bare it. I don’t think I could have done what I did if that fear hadn’t been there. I was determined that you would live, or I would die trying to save you.”

“I realized then,” said Mal, looking back and forth at her tears, “that while I will always save you, I was meant to save us all. I was meant to save the Magicals, or die trying.”

“You don’t have to be like me,” he said quietly. “Your strengths are not my own, either. I need you to be you.”

“I will end each and every one of them that tries to take what is mine.” “The Dread Lands?” She asked as his hand pulled out from between her stomach and her pants. A darkness formed on Mal’s face. “You.” His eyes bore into hers with a lethal rage so calm it should have been unsettling. “You are mine.”

“Take me,” she whispered into that temptation. “Take all of me.”

“Fuck,” he said slowly as he exhaled. He pulled slightly out and then back in. “You were made for me.”

tear slipped down Maeve’s cheek as she smiled. “It’s as though I’ve been suffocating and you are-” “The very air I need to breathe.” Maeve nodded and a small laugh of relief escaped her lips. “Like calls to like.”

I dreamt about corrupting your sweet body long before I did. But I waited for you to come to me. To decide to be mine.”

“Every inch of you is mine.” Then those two fingers slipped inside her so slowly it hurt. She wined as he pulled them out, and back in again, each time pressing further inside her. “Do you understand?” He asked. Maeve nodded. Unable to form any sound other than a small moan. “Good girl,” said Mal as he pulled his fingers away from her and lowered his mouth to where they had just been. She pushed herself towards him. “Greedy little thing,” he said as he pressed a kiss against her thigh.

“Say it once more,” he hummed against her. She obeyed. “Every inch of me is yours,” she replied desperately.

It wasn’t just jealousy or possession that drove him in and out of her. It was his own pleasure she was seeing. Pleasure at her body, her skin. Her.

“Are you mine?” She asked. He sucked in a sharp breath. “In every meaning of the word.”

“Tell me again who you belong to,” commanded Mal. “You,” gasped Maeve, her voice broken and hoarse, between thrusts. “I belong to you.”