The Dread Descendant (The Dread Descendant, #1)

by Lauren Cate Leake

Abraxas Rosethorn snatched the book from view and tossed it onto the side table. Maeve frowned up at her cousin. His bright blonde hair styled neatly back, his emerald lined black blazer and pants pressed with perfect seams. Abraxas had a pale boyish face, bright blue eyes, like all the Rosethorn’s, and the confidence of someone far beyond his years. Spinel stretched in his sleep in her lap, curling his paws tightly across his face.

Malfoy?????

Though, Malachite was the exception to that idea. Stronger than all of them. A supreme before he ever set foot at Vaukore. With no Sacred blood. Born unto a Witch with no name, and no Father to be found. She died giving birth to him in a cold December alley way in the slums of London.

Tom Riddle?

Maeve laughed softly. “You are so accustomed to getting your way.” Mal’s face scanned hers meticulously. Her stomach flipped as a quick breath rose up in her chest. When his eyes landed on hers he spoke. “No one fights me quite like you do.” The words slipped from his mouth like it made him hungry. She grinned. “Someone has to,” she said. A small laugh escaped his lips. “And you think you’re the one for the job?” “The alternatives are grim.” His brows raised.

“Looking for something that would be, to quote you, ‘quite the accomplishment’.” Maeve’s eyebrows raised and she frowned slightly. “You want to know if it’s possible to cheat death.” “Sharp as a thorn.” Mal was not smiling. He was not attempting to charm or manipulate her.

No this is literally Tom Riddle 101

He rolled his eyes and ignored her. “In one of those books you gave me, it talks about Dread bloodline being able to use Magic others cannot. I wonder if Kietel can?”

Bro parseltongue

wrote about Kietel every day. Every day he was a murderer, a traitor, a bigot and a liar. He wrote a speech the Times refused to print. The Starlight Gazete did though. He defended his actions, calling out The Orator’s Office and her father even for conspiring against Magicals to obtain power. It was a call to action for all Magicals. And a threat to Magicals who opposed him.

Giving Grindlewald

They walked the halls as Mal recounted his night prior. He admitted it was excruciating and exhilarating. He described it as the most powerful and euphoric rush of Magic he had ever controlled, and that at times it had control of him. He had successfully merged part of his Magic, perhaps even his soul, his life, and forged it with ancient Magic.

Girl, a horcrux!!!?

Where Mal was the most gorgeous boy she had ever laid eyes on, Reeve was pure man. Even the thick velvet of his suit couldn’t conceal the muscles underneath. His tan tattooed hands gripped his goblet in such a way she was certain he could shatter her whole with one movement of those fingers. Her eyes snapped away from his frame as he spoke with one brow raised.

Reeve is a certified hottie

Dragon Whiskey.

you mean fire whiskey

Maeve perused the book Mal slipped her that evening. The book confirmed what they already suspected. The ring Mal took from his father and the locket he spoke of were powerful Magic objects. They were made with Dread Magic, and they were two of many Magical objects.

The Slytherin locket

Maeve dropped her voice and leaned in close as she addressed him. “That is the only time one should be playing any cards, Your Grace.” “Stop that,” said Reeve, with a growl in his tone. “Or my patience will run thin.” “Does your grace only extend so far?” Reeve licked his lips and leaned towards her. “I can show you exactly how far it extends.” Maeve’s mouth fell open. Abraxas’ attention flew from Hugo and his wide eyes landed on Reeve. A wicked smile at her cousin’s lips.

Wait Reeve is kind of……okay okayy

She tried to find a smart remark to wipe his smirk off his face, but she knew one would not come, and The High Lord was too confident to be swayed by any blow. “Don’t play the game if you’re going to get your feelings hurt,” said Reeve. “I will always win. I have centuries of a perfected quick wit.” “More like you’re a perfected prick,” muttered Maeve. “I have that too,” said Reeve with a wink. “Set yourself up for that one, cousin,” said Abraxas. Reeve smiled at him cunningly. Abraxas blushed. “Fine,” she said. “I yield.”

“Beautiful is the lousiest and laziest compliment I could possibly get,” said Maeve. “Yes. Of course I am. Do you have anything else that draws you to me? Besides my beauty and the fact that you cannot have the one you love? Is that enough for you to deny me the one I do?”

“Then how will I provoke you?” “I am certain you’ll find a way.” Reeve’s mouth hung slightly open as he studied her from head to toe with royal ease. His playful expression faded as his eyes sparkled with flecks of fire. “You are a magnificent creature,” he said slowly. Maeve’s eyes widened at the change in his tone. She looked up at him. Panic flooded her mind, chilling her skin and kicking her heart into motion.

Reeve sat on the black leather loveseat. No claws. No wings. Just the handsome High Lord whom she had exchanged unpleasant words with last they spoke.

Down bad for the High Lord

On her chest was a bright inky green two-headed serpent, snaking its way through the mouth and eyes of a skull. One of the vipers mouth was closed. The other had its fangs ferociously bared, ready to strike.

Girl, the dark mark?