Blade & Rose by Miranda Honfleur

Author:Miranda Honfleur
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9780999485408
Publisher: Preview of the first five chapters

Chapter 4

When someone knocked at her door, Rielle jumped out of bed, flushed, heart racing. It was still dark. Jon should be sleeping—what could he want at this hour?

Divine, just like her dream. She laid a palm over her chest, willing her pulse to slow. It was the Proctor’s fault. He’d planted the thought in her mind with his baseless accusation that Jon was her lover.

Blood rushed to her face. If only the Order of Terra mandated the mutual exclusivity of celibacy and attractiveness.

Perhaps it hadn’t been a knock. An illusion of the night, and no more...

She took a deep, calming breath. Her anima sought resonance; that was it. Yes, that was all. That deep, replenishing connection with another mage, which somehow made the sum greater than its parts, the greatest coming from complementary mage pairs. Yet practical need to brighten anima wasn’t the only draw to resonance. Greater than any other, it was pleasure, a spiritual sensation unlike any other.

Like others of her kind, she needed a fellow mage from time to time.

But Jon was no mage.

It was an urge, no more, like hunger or thirst, and she could control it. If she had to, she could live off crumbs of brightening and just meditate for a few days instead of resonance.

Another soft knock. She lit a candle at her desk with a flick of her wrist. A simple spell, it barely dimmed her anima.

She darted to the wash basin, splashed her face to freshen up. For modesty’s sake, she grabbed her silk nightgown’s matching robe. No need to taunt the poor man. Her heart raced like a gust spell, and she covered her chest with a palm, willing it to slow.

What did he want? She headed for the door and stopped in front of it, taking a few breaths.

The knock sounded again. Farther away. It wasn’t from the adjoining door but from the hallway. Not Jon.

She stilled, blinking too fast, and pressed her lips together. Idiot. She blew out a breath. Someone was at the hall door.

Eyebrow raised, she went to it. At least whoever was in the hallway hadn’t featured in her latest dreamy insanity, and wasn’t looking to escape. She gathered her wits about her and opened it.

Leigh Galvan stood in the doorway—a tall, slender wild mage in his early thirties and her former master. His black almond-shaped eyes, a gift of his mother’s Kamerish heritage, contrasted sharply with his platinum-white hair, the mark of a survivor and master of wild magic.

Heredity wasn’t the only door to magic. Harnessing the wild magic of the land from a Vein was usually fatal, but rarely, an exceptional person could control the massive primal force and come away a mage, and a strong one at that.

Someone like Leigh.

When she’d been his apprentice, she’d gotten to know him better than any apprentice should ever know a master, but she’d never learned why he’d taken such a risk.

He leaned against the doorjamb, disheveled. So he’d spent the evening and most of the night up to no good, like most nights.

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