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the witching hours—the time between midnight and four in the morning when the veil between the mortal world and the Other Side was the thinnest—after
“A heart and a key would set me free,” it said. “But you should hope we do not meet again, angel.”
“The price is your greatest fear.”
“Second,” the man continued. “By entering, you are agreeing that neither Phantasma nor any of its staff can be held accountable for anything that happens within its grounds, as well as committing to fulfilling any bargains you make, down to every the last detail. This includes, but is not limited to, any physical or mental damage you may sustain once on the premises. You’re also agreeing that you understand you’re allowed forfeit during Phantasma at any time, for any reason, except within the actual trials themselves. Outside of the trials all you must do is state ‘I, your full name, surrender
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“In order to win Phantasma you must be the last person to leave, alive, after completing all nine levels—one level for each night, beginning tomorrow. The trials begin promptly at sunset, and if you are late, you are disqualified.”
“Lastly, and perhaps most important of all—fall in love within Phantasma at your own risk.” She almost snorted.
Luci, room 401. Cade, room 402. Beau, room 403. James, room 404. Eric, room 407. Charlotte, room 412.
The man, who looked to be in his mid-twenties, only a few years older than her, tilted his head in amusement as he opened his arms to allow the feline to leap up into them.
Others would probably describe him as being very tall, but at five feet and eleven inches herself, he only had about three and a half inches on her. He had shocking white hair and bright jewel-green eyes. The rest of his facial features were almost as sharp and delicate as her own—except he managed to look less gaunt than she did.
Minimizing risks also meant no more encounters with certain green-eyed phantoms… Something about him disarmed her in a way that was concerning, and she didn’t need such a distraction. Even if he was intriguing. And handsome. And exactly the type of being she had been trained to assist. Not that he seemed to need her assistance. Even if he did, he spoke in too many circles and she couldn’t figure him out. His mouth much too smart.
Oh, his mouth.
She wondered what it would be like to have that mouth on her skin. Running along her clavicle, over her c...
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This place was definitely going to drive her mad.
“That, and what I’m able to do with my hands,” he taunted, lips curling up at the corners.
“Though, I’m starting to suspect that keeping you out of trouble wouldn’t be an easy task.”
Blackwell.
“Ophelia,” he repeated, tasting every syllable. Her name on his tongue sounded like a wicked prayer. “You are exactly the person I’ve been waiting for.”
Wicked delight lit up his eyes as if he were a cat who’d found a mouse that might learn to equally enjoy the game.
He smelled faintly of vanilla and tobacco, and it irked her greatly that she found it to be a delicious combination.
“And if it’s not against the rules you were given before you entered, it’s fair game.”
“The big deal is that I have been trapped here for an amount of time I cannot even remember, because of the aforementioned holes in my memory. And I will continue to be stuck, eternally, unless I find whatever tether or anchor is keeping me bound to this place, and figure out how to free myself. And somehow you managed to catch me in a moment of clarity—a moment already erased from my mind—where I supposedly told you exactly what I needed to find in order to untether me. You have no idea how extraordinarily bizarre this is.”
“Every time I get close to finding what is keeping me in this place—I lose it again. This is—you are—the first concrete confirmation I’ve had that there is something to find. That it is possible.”
“If you fail”—one corner of his mouth lifted in a grim smile as he spoke—“one decade of your life span will be transferred to me.”
She braced herself and gave another hard yank. When he still wouldn’t let go, something strange happened. Her wrist slipped right through his grasp. Not because his grip loosened, but because her entire arm turned transparent. Her mouth fell open as she watched her limb return to its solid state a second later.
“Call her a name one more time,” he threatened, his tone bored but his eyes alight with mischief. “I dare you.”
Cade gawked at the sight of Blackwell’s tall frame, but his expression quickly soured as he spat, “Incredible, even Demons have whores—” Blackwell grabbed Cade’s wrist and twisted his arm until he screeched in agony. “Incredible,” Blackwell echoed. “The audacity of men worth less than dirt.”
“You’re going to be such trouble,” a velvet voice whispered above her in the dark.
Blackwell snorted. “I didn’t say you were incapable. In fact, I was mildly impressed with how you managed to get out of level one. And most people drop within two seconds of being injected with so much venom—if they don’t faint from seeing a beast like that in the first place—so I think you’re rather a force to be reckoned with there, too.”
Three times, the Shadow Voice purred, satisfied. “Whenever?” She lifted a brow. “So, if I want you at my beck and call every second of the day—?” “Yes,” he confirmed with amusement. “You can summon me any time you want. The morning. The afternoon. The middle of the night…”
one of his hands lightly resting atop her shoulder to assure her of his presence. She must have been unconvincing in her nonchalance about re-entering the dark passage, and she found herself touched by the considerate gesture.
A shame, too. I feel robbed of my first time laying eyes on you.”
What would it be like to have someone so enraptured with you that they forgot everything else around them? Not to be embarrassed to speak every unfiltered thought with reckless abandon?
“The trial then presents you with an illusion of the person you lust after most,”
“Well, I suppose the debate on whether or not you think it’d be terrible to kiss me has been settled,” he declared as he kicked the door shut behind them.
“Look at me,” he demanded, reaching out to lightly pinch her chin and tilt her face up to his.
The mischievous glint in his eyes was back in full force as he leaned down. “If you thought that was your threshold of pleasure—imagine being worshipped by the real thing.”
looks like you gave that imposter a Hell of a fight at least. Good girl.”
Oh. fuck
“The one named Cade,” she admitted. “Happy?” Without another word, Blackwell disappeared.
She buried her face into the crook of his throat. “You came.”
“You called,” he answered.
“Show me,” she implored. If he was shocked by the conviction in her voice, there was no indication. And as soon as the permission fell from her mouth, he was moving. Capturing her lips with his own, no hesitation, no timidness.
As if this had been inevitable to him all along.
It was as if he had suddenly woken her and made her realize just how untouched she’d been all this time and now she would starve without his hands and mouth running over every inch of her skin.
“Good girl,” he murmured as he licked and nipped at the sensitive skin behind her right ear.
He slowly lowered her to her feet—as if he had pleasured her so intensely, he was worried she wouldn’t be able to stand on her own now.
“I will never beg you for anything,” she said. He grinned. “Famous last words.”
“You got yourself through that. I’m proud of you.”
He placed a hand above her head for balance as he leaned in and taunted, “C’mon, angel. Tell me what I can do to make you feel good.
I’m at your service after all.”
“I want you to let me see you.” His mouth began tracing up her jawline, languidly, torturously. His words tickling her skin. “All of you. There is nothing I have seen yet that has made me look away. No atrocity you could commit to make me not want you like this. No matter how forbidden.”
