Wings Of - Seduction

Kaelen should have asked what the price was. Should have demanded terms, guarantees, a contract signed in blood and legalese.

She turned, and her eyes were twin novae—burning, ancient, utterly inhuman. A smile curved her lips, slow and knowing. “No one is supposed to be anywhere, Kaelen. Haven’t you learned that yet?”

Up close, she smelled of ozone and forgotten prayers. Wings Of Seduction

“I want what was promised,” she said, reaching up to trace the line of his jaw with a finger that left a trail of faint, fading starlight. “A soul brave enough to be ruined. A man foolish enough to say yes.”

The rain stopped. The neon dimmed. And her wings folded around them both, closing out the world as her lips found his—a kiss that tasted of falling, of flight, of the terrible, beautiful seduction of letting go. Kaelen should have asked what the price was

Instead, he leaned into her touch and whispered, “Yes.”

She stood on the ledge of the building opposite, a silhouette against the holographic advertisements that flickered like artificial auroras. Her dress was a spill of liquid silver, and her hair moved in a wind that he could not feel. But it was her wings that stopped his heart—not feathered, not angelic, but woven from living shadow and fractured light, like shards of a broken galaxy held in bone and sinew. A smile curved her lips, slow and knowing

She wasn’t flying. She was waiting.

The sound of his name on her tongue was a velvet blade.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” he called out, his voice steadier than he felt.

He should have called security. Should have looked away. Instead, he set down his glass and walked to the edge of his own balcony, the rain slicking his hair to his forehead.