Gods and Graves

by Katie May

As a wraith, Zaid is able to alternate between his real body and this shadowy, incorporeal one. Makes him a fucking terrific spy. However, he can only hold this form for about an hour and usually only during the day, when the shadows are the most prominent.

Krystian, with his white-blond hair, golden skin, and slightly pointed ears. His good looks draw them in, but his sunny personality keeps them hooked.

Centuries ago, I was born with a birthmark shaped like a sword and a shimmering haze surrounding me. Ares chose me as one of his champions. The other three were all born within minutes of me, and together, we trained and learned how to utilize our skills as supernaturals to protect the innocents. When we reached the age of twenty-five, we were put into a deep, catatonic sleep, which would only end when we were needed, since there’s only ever one team active at a time. We woke up two years ago, after Aphrodite’s team was slaughtered by a feral giant.

As a blood fae, Rafe has to drink blood more often than a vampire in order to utilize his powers. But the bloodlust has corroded away his mind—chipping away a piece at a time—until all he cares about is violence and death. He revels in tearing his victims apart. Listening to them scream. Having them beg for it all to end.

“Good grief. Did I just intrude on a sexy man convention? And how do I get an invitation to attend every year?”

“You’re a wraith, aren’t you?” I move until I’m only an inch away from his face, standing on my tiptoes to study him better. “Want to be my shadow daddy?”

Actually, he’s drenched in blood. It coats his shoulder-length black hair, streaked with red and blue, his tan skin, and his clothing. When he smiles, I notice some of his teeth are sharper than the others. A vampire, maybe? No. Not a vamp. A blood fae. I can tell by his hair. Those red and blue strands? They’re natural, not dyed. Only fae have hair like that. A blood fae, a wraith, a shifter, and an elf.

My little bird has been trapped in a cage for an eternity, and now that she’s free, I want to trap her again.

It’s…cute. She’s cute. How irritating.

“Because I want to be worthy of you before I fuck you. I want to earn every moan you give me, every plea for more. And when I finally take you to bed, there will be no going back for either of us. You will be mine.”

“I’ve never cared about being hurt before.” “Well, I’ll care enough for the both of us,”

I have my guys, immortality, and lifetimes upon lifetimes to perfect our happily ever after. And nothing will stand in my way.