Page 33 of Wrongfully Magicked
Who knew a person could fall into a daze of pure carnal desire?
Before today, I would have laughed my ass off. Now, I’m struggling against the need to lean forward and lick him.
Coming out of my lust fueled coma, I clear my throat…then nearly swallow my tongue when my gaze finally drops to the limbs he is holding out for me, and I see the gorgeous tattoos twining up and down his spectacular arms.
I’m not sure what captures my attention more—his muscles or the tattoos?
In a trance, I run my fingers over the markings, then halt when they brighten at my nearness. They almost seem to sway like flames, playfully seeking my attention and urging me to explore more of him.
The other arm is just as detailed, the dark red lines flaring brightly under my attention, giving the impression of liquid fire flowing down his arm.
And man, do I want to get burned.
I barely resist the impulse to continue my exploration of his body.
Thankfully, my brain finally begins working again.
“I don’t understand.” I drop my arm, curling my hands into fists in an effort to keep them to myself. My usually chaotic flames are oddly calm, as if pleased to see the marks on him.
When he steps toward me, I hurriedly sidestep him, practically diving to the side to avoid his touch. Something tells me I don’t want to be distracted by his ability to turn my brain to mush right now.
A heavy sigh escapes him, and his shoulders deflate. He remains where I left him, but he turns toward me and keeps me in view like I’m a beastling who might attack at any moment. “Hellspawn are rare. We’re half demon, half beastling…and many consider our ancestry evil.”
“You mean like incubi and succubi?” My brows furrow, sensing that he’s trying to tell me something without actually coming out and saying it.
“Exactly!” A brilliant smile lights up his face, and my breath catches.
I don’t miss the way he casually takes a step toward me. The primal part of my brain is on alert, but the hussy in me is urging me to tackle him to the ground and have my dirty way with him.
“To say that demons and mages don’t get along is an understatement.” His excitement dims, his voice becoming gruff. “They are mortal enemies and stubborn assholes. Both believe they have the right to rule everyone else and think the rules don’t apply to them.
“Thankfully, demons usually remain in their own realm, while mages stay in ours. Their magics are like trying to get two opposite sides of magnets to connect. A hybrid between the two usually doesn’t survive past the fetus stage. If they manage to live, they typically combust when their magic first manifests. Their abilities are just too powerful to be contained in their human form, and it explodes out of them, consuming them.”
My heart skips a beat in my chest, and I rub the spot, suddenly not wanting to hear more. “Why are you telling me all this? It’s been several hundred years since demons have beenspotted. We get a few possessions now and then, but they are usually gone after a few days of joyriding in a body.”
He grimaces and runs a hand down his face. “Hellspawn are usually born from a union with a beastling and a demon. The few drops of demonic blood in our veins is what gives us a special affinity for fire or seduction or other dark arts.”
Agitation has my own flames sparking between my fingers, and I cross my arms, quickly shoving my hands against my body to snuff it out. I suddenly don’t like the turn of this conversation, and my voice is flat when I speak. “You think I’m one of your hellspawn.”
“No, I think you’re a rare hellborn—a cross between a demon and a mage. All the powers of a full demon and none of the weaknesses. You’re able to walk both realms without harm.” He takes a step toward me, but stops when I flinch. His expression falls, then his face smooths out and goes blank.
Part of me feels bad knowing that I hurt him, but I fear if he touches me, I might shatter. What he says makes too much sense.
“Your fire burns hotter and brighter than normal flames. You’re not a level three mage—you have way too much power. If I’m right, your powers have been steadily growing over the years. Hellborns gain access to a few basic demonic abilities when they hit puberty, but they don’t ascend into their full powers until they turn twenty-five.”
Then it clicks.
Why my parents want me dead.
It has nothing to do with my inheritance and everything to do with my powers. The last thing they want is for me to be in charge, especially when I’d be too powerful for them to control.
So much of my life now makes sense, but I don’t want to believe it. I tighten my arms around myself in a pathetic attemptat a hug and lift my chin up in challenge. “Do you have any proof? Maybe I’m just special and my power is a late bloomer.”
Even as I say it, I don’t believe it.
“We could have you tested again. Mages don’t get a power boost after they manifest unless they are using spells and dark magic.” His expression gentles, and he turns his arms until his tattoos are on full display. “But when you marked me, I got a taste of your magic. You are hellborn.”
My shoulders slump, and my chest feels hollow, very much like my soul just exited my body. I turn, unable to face him with all the dirty secrets of my past so exposed. I press my hands against the wall, not sure I trust my legs to hold me upright. “I always thought I was a byproduct of an affair, but now I can’t stop wondering if I was conceived for a reason.”
