Page 109 of Trivium

His eyes bore into her, studying her expression, and it made her feel exposed. “You’re a lot like Park, you know.”

The Tigress. The Bloodring. Park. It had left a gaping wound in her heart—one she wasn’t ready to face. “Don’t bring up his name again unless you’re going to tell me what happened to him.”

“Or what?”

“Or I will cut your stupid tongue out.”

Ren smiled, sending a chill down her spine. “That rage you feel? That’s good. Use that to channel your magic.” Ren stretched his neck and each of his arms in preparation. She eyed every single one of his movements, annoyed at how hot he looked. “I want you to use your magic to fight me.”

“I’d be delighted,” she said wryly. Simmering, she rooted herself in a fighting stance. If he wanted a fight, she was going to give him one.

“And one more thing.” Ren stepped toward her. “Channel your magic during combat.”

“Easy,” she said, even though she didn’t feel it.

“Ready?”

“Since when do you ask?” She lunged at him before he could do the same, bringing her dagger to his shoulder. Ren dodged her easily, grabbing the wrist that held her dagger and twisting so that she was forced to turn with it. He held her back to his chest, his arm bracing her over her collarbone. She was trapped, her own dagger used against her.

Her magic allied with her, sensing her danger. Buzzing under her skin. Ready.

Ren’s raspy voice was in her ear, sending a jolt of adrenaline down her core. “What’s your next move, Alva?”

Loveleena tried to focus. She wanted to fight. But it wasn’t just magic stirring inside her. Ren’s strong body was against her back, bracing her, his arm flexed, creating small ripples in his tattoos, and the sight sent an unwelcome flicker of heat through her. Desire came involuntarily. She shoved it away, but it resisted, starting in her abdomen and crawling like lava through each of her limbs. Lust and her magic intertwined, intensifying. And suddenly, all she could think about was how it would feel if Ren lowered his forearm, down over her breasts, her ribcage, her lower belly, her pelvis, lower, lower, lower. Her breathing picked up.

“See what happens when you can’t control it?” Ren’s rasped voice was in her ear.

Annoyed, she pushed at his grip.

“Your magic isn’t creating anything that isn’t already there.”

“How would you know. I’m an illusionist, after all.” She gritted her teeth as she said it, pushing all her strength into holding his dagger off.

“Externally yes. But you can’t create illusions within yourself.”

What was usually a casual thought about Ren’s general attractiveness—and she had many “casual” thoughts—was now an electric desire. She cursed herself, reasoning that she had gone too long without sex.

With considerable effort, she twisted around to face him. His hand was still around her wrist, but he wasn’t holding it tightly. She dragged the tip of her dagger down the center of his chest, grazing the fabric of his shirt gently, until it stalled at the top of his belt.

She pulled at her magic, using everything she had to channel it at Ren. No, not just at him, into him. She envisioned her lust spreading from her body, through the tip of her dagger, into Ren’s muscles, through every cell in his body.

“Interesting choice,” Ren said, releasing her. For a brief moment, they stared at each other, panting from exertion and lust. Its beginning and end were unknown to her; all she knew was that it consumed both of them now, simmering just beneath the surface.

She hated that she craved him.

And worse, she hated that she could see it reflected back in his eyes too.

He stepped toward her, eyes locked on hers. His hand found her hair, and he ran his fingers through the thick black strands just above her ear.

She leaned into his touch as a moan escaped her throat, prompting a deep groan that rumbled in his chest, unlocking something in her that begged for release. Suddenly, she felt desperate for him. Her lips parted for him, and a surge of heat ran through her as he kissed her hungrily. She pressed her body against him, and he stepped backward in response, lazily falling into a chair behind him. Straddling him, she ran her lips up his neck, leaving a trail of hungry kisses. His hands were on her hips, then gripping her ass, and she pressed against him slowly, rhythmically, hard between her legs.

Consumed by desire, she wasn’t sure what was magic and what was real. Whatever it was, she felt drunk on it.

“We can stop now,” Ren panted in her ear.

“I don’t want to,” she whispered back.

“You don’t know what you want,” Ren said, pushing her back off him gently, but firmly. “Give it a minute. You don’t have control of your magic yet. It makes everything… more intense.”