Phantasma (Wicked Games, #1)

by Kaylie Smith

“I can’t fucking stand the thought of him—of anyone—pleasuring you except me. I’d rather cease to exist than know you’ve looked at anyone else the way you look at me when I’m touching you.”

“I need you to know that you are the only person who has ever made me feel like I am capable of anything,” she lamented. “The only person who has ever made me feel truly seen.”

“Your touch means fucking everything. And that’s why we can’t cross that line again.”

“In a different life, in a fair one, I would’ve kept you until my eternal soul withered away to dust,” he vowed to her. Then he was gone.

NIGHT EIGHT OF PHANTASMA Ophelia stayed in bed until the sorrow in her soul ebbed and the dinner bell chimed.

A choice of two tokens, a decision to make, if all only take one, nothing is at stake. If two choose one, and the third takes all, the third will walk, the others will brawl. If two choose all, and the third takes one, the third will be free, the other two are done.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment.” “What moment is that?” she quipped back. “Your death? I’m sure the entirety of New Orleans has been waiting for this moment.”

Yes, Necromancer, the Shadow Voice encouraged. Embrace your calling, harbinger of death. Unleash your darkness on the world.

“But I felt you calling. I’ve never had that sort of connection with any other contestant before. I told you before that nothing would ever stop me from getting to you if you needed me, and that will remain true forevermore. I would tear the universe apart at its seams if I must.”

“You’re a menace.” “Only to you.” She grinned, smug. “And it’d better stay that way,”

“In all the darkness, in all the loneliness, you have been my one source of light,” he lamented as she began to come undone. “My soul will go to its grave with your name echoing in my mind.”

“It’s not just fucking. You have feelings for him?” “I have an array of emotions for him,” Ophelia muttered. “He can be quite the pain in the ass, I assure you.”

Choose wisely.

“Blackwell?” she whispered. “Firstly, let me reintroduce myself.” He dipped his head in a formal bow. “My name is Salemaestrus Erasmus Blackwell, Prince of the Devils. But you, angel, may call me Salem.”

“Everyone who falls in love within Phantasma is cursed… because falling in love is what got you into this in the first place,”

“I love you,” she whispered. “I love you so much. You saved me. So many times, in so many ways, and it barely took you a week to change me so intrinsically. I may never be rid of my inner demons, but for this single sliver of time, whenever we were together, you made them quiet. I was able to hear myself for once. And I want you to know that I will gladly take on whatever this place is going to curse me with knowing you will finally get out of the Hell you’ve been trapped in for so long.”

“If I agree to be your new tether,” she began, her vision beginning to blur, “what would that entail?” “Forever. With me.” “And?” He smirked. “Is that not enticing enough for you?”

“Especially considering I’m going to have to deal with your mouth for eternity. I don’t take that lightly.” “Please,” he drawled. “We both know how much you love my mouth.” She glowered. “I am already regretting this, honestly.”

“Ophelia I… I am so fucking in love with you. I think I fell in love with you when you asked me how you could help me that first time we met. Prince of the Devils, and you wanted to save me. Maybe, somehow, I knew then that you could be the one to set me free. And I meant what I said that night, that you should hope we never met again, and I fucking hate that this is what it’s coming down to. But… every single second I’ve spent with you has reminded me what it’s like to be alive. And I would trade every other soul in the world if it meant I would get to keep you forever.”

To be a sort of safe haven to explore options of assistance in the paranormal realm before making an ill-advised deal with a being who had malicious intents. The new Grimm legacy.

“Devil.” “Angel,”

She kissed him then, long and slow, reveling in the little piece of heaven she saved from the dark depths of Hell.