Enchantra (Wicked Games #2)

PROLOGUE

DARKNESS

Hell was woven from swirling darkness and secrets, much like the man standing before her.

"I loathe you," she spat. Black tendrils of magic slithered from his hands, coiling around her wrists and throat before pinning her against the labyrinth wall. The sensual energy that always hummed against her skin when he was this close made her grit her teeth. She fought the surge of attraction slowly heating her veins. The last time his shadows had bound her like this, there had been far less clothing between them.

He followed in the wake of his shadows, stalking forward until his chest pressed against hers.

"Love. Loathing. Same passion, different names," he murmured. "And how easily the line between them blurs, don't you think?"

"No," she seethed. "It will never be anything but crystal clear to me that I hate you."

He leaned down slowly, lips brushing the shell of her ear.

"Prove it."