by Julie Leto
She pulled away softly. “That reminds me,” she said ruefully. “What are we going to do about the magic? Judging by Keith’s threats before he and Rose were carted off to jail, the K’vr will be back. One faction or the other, they’re going to be trouble.”
Damon patted his pocket, where the magical source still thrummed against his skin. “And we’ll be ready for them.”
“How?”
Unsteady, but determined, Damon stood and enveloped her as tightly in his arms as his wound would allow. “I’ll master the magic, my lady. With your…assistance,” he said delicately, “I’m quite certain I’ll learn to keep the evil—and Rogan’s followers—at bay.”
The grin curving her lips reached her eyes so that they sparkled. “That might mean a whole lot of lovemaking.”
Damon suddenly forgot all about pain or suffering or curses. He thought only of magic. Not the type created through the fire opal still hidden in his pocket, but the rare and wonderful kind he’d invoke with Alexa at his side. “Yes, my lady. It will, indeed.”
