Page 48 of Mantle

“She’s a very impressive recruit,” I commended Cornelius.

“Yes. Our circle is tight and contained, as the work we do requires immense trust. But with the combined high-level talents and extensive knowledge of merely a few, numbers matter not.” He gestured toward the entrance of the building. “Speaking of, let me introduce you to the remaining members. You already clocked Gabriel,” he said, just as the man himself emerged from inside the building, giving me a chin lift.

“There’s also Calla Coretti.” A flash of yellow magic and she appeared beside Gabriel, looping her arm through his, her sleek black dress popping against her vibrant-red curls. She beamed out at me in welcome and I gave them the same respect back.

“And I believe you are also familiar with our final member.”

Another figure stepped out.

Or, more like swaggered out and then gave a sarcastic bow with an over the top theatrical edge.

You’ve got to be shitting me.

That black spiky hair with maroon tips—his signature—was the first thing that took my attention. He was wearing all black—cargo pants and a sweeping black hooded coat. And his dark-red magic crackled around him as per usual.

I glared out at him with every step he took toward me.

“Sylas Morgrave,” I ground out, as he stopped just a few feet in front of me.

Obviously sensing the tension between us, Cornelius said, “I’ll let the two of you get reacquainted,” and then he headed over to the others.

Sylas flipped his long coat back and regarded me with a mixture of curiosity and amusement, clearly getting off on my stunned reaction.

The fucker loved catching people off guard—especially me, because it was a rarity for that to occur where I was concerned.

“It’s been a long time, Kai.”

“Not since the Coven Games.”

“Where I bested you, if I recall.”

“Bullshit.”

“Still sore about me breaking your beloved Aetherbound Scepter?”

“With death magic,” I bit back.

“You were too hung up then by rules and procedure, rather than doing what needed to be done to win a battle.”

“We weren’t in battle. It was a friendly competition.”

“Yes, well. I got mine, didn’t I? I was kicked out of my coven for that move.”

“And now you’re a vigilante?”

“Aww, you’ve been checking in on me?”

“The chatter and rumors were loud.”

He slapped his hand to his chest with that usual part-mocking, arrogant dramatic edge. “I’m a celebrity? Is that what you’re conveying to me?”

“Fuck me, you arrogant shit.”

He smirked. “Been there, tried that. You didn’t care for it.” He stepped up close, right in my personal space, his once familiar bergamot scent infusing me. Damn the bastard, he’d always smelled so good.

Pity his abrasive personality drowned that out, along with the heavy cloak of charm he put out there. His overt flirtation was renowned.

“Didn’t like being topped. I heard that you remedied that with Nyx Laryn.” He frowned. “What about the dragon, though? How does that work? His species is highly dominant.”

---