Page 109 of Obsidian and Frost
As he went in for another blow, I knocked him back with a blast of my red power.
It had me grunting as I felt the desiccation spread from the exertion, traveling up my shoulder beneath my hooded coat.
“You’d fare much better having an honest relationship discussion with your girlfriend than coming at the likes of me,” I rasped, pushing off the tree, and calling my magic to both palms.
It flickered unsteadily, though, and the strain of holding even that right now was weakening me further with every moment I forced it.
“I don’t give a shit about your threats!” he yelled back at me, sending another blast my way, which I deflected this time, sending it spiraling out into the air, high above the trees. “Her interest in you is ruining everything!”
“It’s not romantic or even sexual. I’ve explained that to her.”
“Yes! And now it’s worse, because now she’s talking about not wanting to be drawn to dark power. The power that I wield, that she and I used to play with together! She wants to change and now it’s had her befriending Velra Nox! All because of what you sparked in her! You know how hard it is to keep her in my orbit now, to spell a Dark Fae being with enough magical influence without them noticing?”
“You’re violating her free will?”
“You left me no choice! She’smine!”
What a despicable bastard.
“Sounds to me she’s a possession to you, rather than a person.”
“Shut up!” he bellowed, his whole body in that gold suit shaking with it.
His blasts came rapid-fire then.
And I was beyond countering them anymore.
They slammed into me brutally, knocking me to my knees, making me curse.
All I could do was hold my hand up with barely a flicker of my magic still live in a futile bid to counter some of the damage.
And then I couldn’t even manage that.
With the assault and the desiccation combining, I could barely breathe steadily, the pain becoming unbearable, and the lightheadedness being the final straw that had me collapsing onto my back.
He moved in and smashed his boot into my ribs, making me choke and splutter up blood.
“Beg for mercy, Almighty Necromancer!” he spat at me.
Never.
He fisted his hand in my leather coat and jerked me up to him, holding his other hand in a fist. “I saidbeg,”he seethed.
I spat out a mouthful of blood over his suit.
He roared, then threw his fist.
But it never made contact.
A blur of movement caught my eye a split-second before he was ripped away from me, then hauled into a tree a few feet away opposite.
“Cocksucker!” a familiar voice thundered.
The blur came to a stop and then I was taking in that tactical gear, those green highlights in his spiky hair… and that delectable ass.
“Lazriel,” I croaked.
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