She knew he meant trouble.
Yet she loved him.
When seventeen-year-old Quinn Sophia Richards leaves New York to live with her grand-aunt, Helen Deveraux in Blue Haven, Georgia, she is confronted with a dark life changing revelation : her whole life w...
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Quinn tossed in bed, restless, soft moans escaped from her lips. A firm hand touched her forehead and gently stroked her hair. Even if she was still unwilling to make any move, she managed to slowly open her eyes and peaked at her surroundings.
The familiar different shades of purple walls greeted her. A warm smile reached her lips. She was back in Blackwell's palatial mansion.
"Good morning, love," a deep masculine voice greeted her. Her eyes wide-open this time, she turned to admire Dravon who sat on the edge of the bed, looking flawless in a grey shirt and black ripped jeans. His blue eyes were focused on her face. She flushed a bit under his intense gaze which seemed to be looking right through her soul.
As she pulled off the dark amethyst lush cover off her body, she realized that her black outfit had been replaced by a white long dress. "I had to get rid of your tattered clothes and take care of your bruises," Dravon informed. Her cheeks reddened at the thought that he had seen her naked. "White suits you by the way," he teased.
"For how long was I unconscious?," she asked, flushed, in need to change the topic. "A whole 32 hours." Her eyes widened in bewilderment. Thirty two hours... it can't be.
He bent forward and kissed her forehead gently. "I'm glad you made it, my precious Campbell witch."
"But how? I thought it was impossible for me to survive," she muttered slowly, still unable to believe that she was alive and with Dravon. It still felt like a dream. Dravon traced a line on her cheekbone with his finger and held her chin up. "Our situation was already chaotic with everyone in the coven severely wounded. We had no chance of winning at all." He looked beyond her, his eyes darkened to a stormy black ; eyes that were shadowed by the incidents of the past.
"When you obliged me to cast the blue fire spell of destruction, every inch of my body seemed to rebel against my soul. You gave me no chance but to choose the coven over you." He grimaced and a line formed on his forehead. "Hell... I still regret that moment for making you go through all of that." Quinn gave his arm a light squeeze. "The prophecy is over now, Dravon." She gave him a warm smile. "It's all over now."
She gazed at him for a long moment, pensive. "That still doesn't explain how I got saved," she remarked. "When you fainted, I had a meagre amount of time to save you and I knew only one option left." He leaned backwards and made himself comfortable on the other side of the bed. He held her in a loose embrace with her head safely pinned on his shoulder, his fingers laced with hers. "Your bloodline saved you Quinn. The powerful Campbell witches might have been rebellious, but they also shared a common weakness." His head tilted, he held her curious gaze. "They always protect their own. Your bloodline had marked history by fiercely protecting each other. So, I took you to the infamous Wickedly Evil Sorceress woods." Heaving a sigh, he went on. "The Campbell spirits had rules however. I had to leave you at their mercy with the seven crystals and follow all their instructions. I was asked to sit in a circle with you, cold in my lap. You had stopped breathing, Quinn."
