A dragon shifter novel Chapter 58

Touch Her and Die

Allison

Tessa leads me through the noise and bodies with the confidence of someone who belongs here. The further we go, the darker it gets. It’s cozy, dark, full of

laughter, low voices, and flickering candlelight that bends around shadows. When she stops, it’s in front of a group fucked into the back corner… They’re

definitely demons. Every one of them radiates that slow, dangerous power that hums against your skin like static. Their eyes gleam in different colours of

amber, crimson and violet. Their horns and tails are all unique toq, curling, barbed or faintly glowing. The one grinning up at Tessa, however, doesn’t fit the

stereotype at all. He has shaggy blonde hair and green eyes so bright almost looks mortal. If not for the long twist of purple and green horns and the tail flicking lazily behind him, like a happy dog. “Rynor!” Tessa laughs as he stands and sweeps her into a hug that actually looks gentle. “Hey, Tess,” he says,

smiling wide enough to show slightly pointed teeth. “What are you doing here?”

“I brought a friend!” She gestures toward me. “This is Ally. We’re celebrating… something.”

“Celebrating, huh?” His grin widens, tail wagging once before curling around his leg. “Then I guess the first round’s on me. Sit, sit,” Rynor says, motioning to the empty seats across from his group. His grin is effortless and disarming. I’m suddenly less nervous about being surrounded by actual demons. He gestures around the table as we take our seats. “That’s Nyx,” he says, nodding to the tall female with crimson eyes and black, curling horns that gleam like polished marble. Her tail flicks lazily, ending in a sharp, heart–shaped tip. “Korrin,” he continues, pointing to a lean, silver–haired demon whose eyes are slit- pupil gold and whose horns branch backward like deer antlers. “And that sulky one is Zev,” he finishes, gesturing toward a broad–shouldered guy with inky

blue eyes and a tail wrapped around the leg of his chair like a python. Rynor claps his hands together. “I’ll grab drinks. Don’t start any wars while I’m gone.”

As he disappears into the crowd, Nyx leans forward, chin resting on her hand, her tone curious but cautious. “So… what kind of magical are you, exactly?”

Before I can answer, Tessa chirps brightly, “She’s a mind reader!” The table goes still. Every pair of demonic eyes lands on me with varying degrees of

discomfort; Nyx even straightens her tail off the floor like it’s preparing for attack. I laugh lightly and raise my hands. “Relax. I’m not into snooping around

or anything like that. Your thoughts are safe.” That earns me a few awkward chuckles and an exhale of relief from Korrin, whose tail finally drops back down

with a soft thud. “Good,” he mutters, grinning despite himself. “Didn’t want you finding out about my deep emotional bond with Rynor’s tail.” The group

laughs, and just like that, the tension in the air starts to melt. Rynor returns, balancing a tray of glasses that shimmer faintly, each one glowing a different

colour, the liquid inside shifting like molten metal. He sets them down with a flourish. “Hellfire liquor,” he says proudly. “Brewed by imps, banned by angels,

and guaranteed to make mortals question their life choices.”

“Perfect,” Tessa grins, already reaching for one. I take mine a little more hesitantly. The first sip burns straight through me like liquid flame, heat blooming

in my chest before settling into a dizzy, magical hum under my skin. The others cheer when I don’t cough, and Rynor raises his glass to me with a

mischievous wink.

The music seems to pulse harder after that, the rhythm sliding into my bones. Maybe it’s the drink, maybe it’s the faint enchantment woven into the air, but the edges of the world feel softer, brighter. Laughter drifts from every corner. One drink turns into two, then three, and when Tessa grabs my hand and pulls

me toward the crowded dance floor, I don’t even hesitate. We twirl and sway under the violet lanterns, laughing so hard my ribs ache. The beat thrums

through the floor and up my legs, the magic of it tangling with the faint buzz in my veins. For once, there’s no academy, no council, no wraiths or secrets, just the pulse of the music, Tessa’s infectious grin, and the feeling of finally, finally having fun.

The music is a pulse under my skin, the lights wobbling like stars in a kettle. I end up twirling and laughing, really laughing, letting the rhythm push the

sharp edges off my nerves. Then two vampires slide into the swirl of dancers. They’re very clearly vampires that are all pale cheekbones and too–bright

smiles. The taller one brushes past me, and suddenly the air around my throat feels wrong, like a glove turned inside out. He moves in as if we’ve been

arranged, hands settling at my hips. Heat and cold collide where his fingers rest. His mouth ghosts along the curve of my neck, and my laugh dies in my throat. I try to shrug him off, but his weight leans into me, anchoring me to the spot. The liquor’s haze shudders through me; my vision wavers, muscles

turning traitorously soft. Panic prickles at the back of my neck. Tessa’s face tightens beside me, her smile gone, just as Rynor and his lot rise from their

corner, the easy warmth of their earlier jokes hardening. “Oi!” Rynor barks at a shorter vampire near Tessa, stepping forward, tail swishing like a warning.

The tall one behind me tightens his grip, and my breath hitches. I watch, helpless, as his fangs elongate and the world narrows to the stretch of pale teeth

and the wet glitter of menace.

Then he’s on his ass. Kael is standing over him, furious as a storm. He’d come out of nowhere, all teeth and heat and lethal intent. The vampire’s jaw hangs open; his friends freeze, shock and anger flaring across their faces. “Touch her,” Kael says, voice low and reckless, “and die.” The last thing I see is him, Kael, his lean frame looming over me. His chest rising and falling with restrained fury, jaw clenched tight enough to crack stone. The flashing lights catch

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1:34 pm

PP

Touch Her and Die

the sharp–cut of his cheekbones, the mess of his black hair falling into those wild, auburn eyes that are locked on me, burning with something between rage

and fear. He takes one step toward me, lips parting like he’s going to say something and then the floor tilts. The music warps into a muffled echo. My knees go weak, the strength draining out of me faster than I can pull it back. Those eyes are the last thing I see before the world slips away completely, and

everything goes black.

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R Visitor

Whoa!

7 cays ago

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