Witch Raven Cora wants nothing to do with Blaze Morningstar Prince of Darkness -The man who broke her fragile, young heart. But when the two of them are forced by Supernatural Laws to find mates, Raven and Blaze agree to a fake mate agreement, in or...
Not until I see what looks like some sort of an entrance way to a private garden. So I take a seat on the cold hard edge of the concrete steps leading up to a beautiful old tree, dropping my face into my hands not knowing if I should scream or cry.
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I can't choose any of those two assholes. I'll rather die. The reality hits me like ton of bricks, by marrying anyone of those two my life would sure be a loveless dull one, and by not marrying one of them, my life will end. I'll be dead in both scenarios. So my options is limited if none.
In seconds my head snaps back up to a voice calling out to me, and suddenly that pit in my stomach that I had seconds ago. Yeah the thing raptures, as a cold, dead shiver runs throughout my bones.
"Little Crow."
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Blaze says my name like it's meant to live there forever in his gorgeous mouth, his voice conveys authority. The sound emanating from his six foot eight inch stature commands attention. It is unmistakable.
At it's most pronounced it feels like a whip against my dewy skin. Slicing quickly and stinging the shit out of me. At it's most tender it feels like the air created by the wings of mating monarch butterflies.
Followed by his chuckle, the most heartfelt laughter twirls in the air and tickles my nose, but it's easily missed if you're not paying mind. Blaze Morningstar is a man of few words but those spoken, releases potent pollen. "Fuck my life, as if this night couldn't get any worst".
He was, well, is different from all others. He is handsome, his dominating, seductive appearance can easily make him stand out in the crowd. His unfathomable, green eyes that occasionally turns yellow contrast exceptionally with his dark toned face. His eyes as deep and expressive, where you could get lost if you stared long enough. His face always has that faraway look in it, which cannot be described in words.
His smile, which reaches up to his eyes and wrinkles them, liquid-green pools of flashing fire yellows flaunted his modesty and the snarky devil appearance, he carries with pride . Often, in the past there were hints of pain in his sparkling eyes, which would disappear as suddenly as it emerged.
