Blood Song: A Fantasy Romance (Warriors of the Five Realms Book 3) by Hollee Mands

Author:Hollee Mands [Mands, Hollee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-12-17T18:30:00+00:00

SEVENTEEN

Gabriel stormed from his bedchamber and straight to the bar on the first floor. For once, the riotous energy of the gambling hall did nothing to calm him. He snagged a bottle of Mujarin from the bar.

He must have carried death in his eyes, because everyone who saw him stayed wisely out of his way. He took a swill of Mujarin—the only liquor he’d found potent enough to allow him stupor—and hoped he’d succumb to its effects. Experience told him he’d have to down the entire bottle in less than ten minutes to achieve it.

He took another gulp and grimaced. Gods, how he hated the taste of alcohol.

The conversation with Shyaree replayed in his mind, as unwelcome as gnats on his skin.

Your arrogance is stifling . . . My body would react the same to any male.

Gabriel took another swig, but the sear of magekind’s most potent liquor could barely compare to the burn of her words. She’d eyed him as though he were nothing more than a replaceable stud. Indeed, wasn’t that what he’d been over the ages? Women always saw him for who he was, and they had always wanted him in their bed—but they would never keep him. None had ever chosen him, for good reason.

Shyaree had been right to stop him.

She was right to hate him.

Who was he to demand her submission? He was a selfish hypocrite, carried away by his own wants. He did not deserve a single kiss, much less her desire . . .

“Guildmaster,” purred a soft, feminine voice at his back. A hand slid over his thigh. “You look like you could use some company.”

Gabriel turned to see one of the succubi smiling suggestively at him. He studied the redhead over the rim of his bottle. Like all succubi, Arulla—or was this Jeniska?—was made to please the eye. And because beauty was in the eye of the beholder, succubus magic masked their true features and presented the most pleasing vision to every eye—creating an unmatchable walking fantasy.

And in Gabriel’s eyes, Jeniska—or so he assumed—was stunning. Pale, creamy skin. Thick, wavy tresses that fell past a generous bosom, and curves made for pounding. Perhaps he should lose himself in her arms. It would be intensely pleasurable. It always was with the succubi. But . . .

“I’m not in the mood,” he heard himself say.

Jeniska pouted. “Are you sure? The unspent energy you’re radiating would keep me sated for days.”

Gabriel shook his head with a chuckle and took another gulp of Mujarin. Blinked.

Jeniska’s red curls were darkening before his very eyes, straightening to a sleek, glossy waterfall of black. Green irises turned a glorious stormy gray. Creamy, pale skin to a rich, brown tan. Her facial structures morphed, too. Her narrow jawline took on a stubborn, angular curve that made his fingers itch, and her lips widened to a luscious pout that caused his loins to throb.

Perfection had a face, and she wore it. Right down to the constellation of three tiny moles on her temple.

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