The Serpent and the Wings of Night (Crowns of Nyaxia, #1)

by Carissa Broadbent

Vampires are beautiful people. This is almost universally true. Their flesh is smooth and soft, their features bright and striking, their voices sweet and melodic. They are often the kind of beautiful that leaves a mark on one’s soul—the kind that visits you again as you lie awake in bed at night, thinking about the shape of those lips.

I drank up Raihn’s touch like one last gulp of wine. A secret, shameful vice.

He was on his knees, staring up at me. And that—the way he looked at me—was the first thing that felt real. Real, and raw, and… and confusing. Because he looked at me in sheer awe—like I was the most incredible thing he had ever seen. Like I was a fucking goddess.

One, that he looked at me like my well-being was actually important to him. That he must actually care, because I’d felt the way he cared. I’d felt his panic when I was in danger, and

that meant he’d felt mine when I thought Angelika would kill him.

The fabric was smooth and silky and a dark, rich violet—a strangely familiar shade I couldn’t place. The front fell into a deep V, the top structured enough to define the curve of my breasts. It was held up by black metal chain straps, and that same glistening ebony metal encircled the bodice, adorning my ribcage in a manner reminiscent of armor. The back was low and open, the long chains crossing over my back. The skirt pooled lightly around my feet, which were encased in delicate silver sandals.

Just thinking about how some people cannot visualize while reading. This dress is described beautifully and it’s worth visualizing

“You might destroy me anyway.” I saw it here, in this moment. Want. Desire.

“That wasn’t how I’d imagined making you come for the first time,” he remarked.

I recognized him immediately, even in the dark, even from such a distance. I’d learned the shape of him so well that every angle was a native language.

“The things I’ve thought about. ‘Want’ doesn’t even fucking cover it. I have a list.”

“Don’t fucking touch her,” he growled as black light cracked through the air, his Asteris awoken with fresh power.

“Where did this come from?”

Who did this to you?

“I would beg,” he murmured. “For you, I would. You have fucking destroyed me, Oraya. Do you know that?”

“Oraya of the Nightborn,” he murmured. “I give you my body. I give you my blood. I give you my soul. I give you my heart. From this night until the end of nights. From daybreak until our days are broken. Your soul is my soul. Your heart is my heart. Your pain is my pain. I bind myself to you.”