Phantasma: A dark fantasy romance (Wicked Games) by Kaylie Smith

Author:Kaylie Smith [Smith, Kaylie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Second Sky
Published: 2024-09-03T00:00:00+00:00

26

TASTE

“Come on,” a deep voice murmured, cool hands running over her face, brushing back the hair on her forehead. “Wake up for me.”

Ophelia didn’t want whoever was touching her to ever stop.

“Mmm?” she muttered, trying to open her eyes, but they were much too heavy.

“I’m going to start healing you,” the voice told her.

She hummed an incoherent response as they began running their fingertips over the damaged skin of her hands and arms. A staticky, vibrating sensation rippled through the places they touched, and she found herself giggling.

“That tickles,” she gasped.

It didn’t take long for the strength to return to her limbs, the pain fading so quickly she nearly forgot how it felt only seconds before, and when she finally opened her eyes, a beaming smile stretched across her face as she gazed up into Blackwell’s emerald eyes.

“I think you must have been heaven-sent,” she told him as her head finally cleared.

He lifted a brow in amusement. “That’s a new sentiment for me. Here.”

He offered his hand and pulled her to her feet. She stretched her arms out above her, inspecting the now-smooth skin of her palm where the wounds had been festering just a moment before. Brand-new. Meanwhile, Blackwell’s hands were now covered in her blood.

“Sorry about that,” she told him sheepishly.

He lifted a shoulder with a smirk. “It’s only blood.”

She reached out to give his hand a squeeze. “Thank you. You got me through that.”

He took a step toward her, lifting her chin with his finger so he could look her square in the eyes. “You got yourself through that. I’m proud of you.”

Her breath hitched. No one had ever said those words to her before. Not Genevieve. Not her mother. Her mother might have told her she’d done something well, but never that she was proud. Tessie Grimm had never been the kind for flowery sentiments.

As quickly as his words had warmed her, his next sentence made her blood run cold. “I want to talk about the Shadow Voice.”

She ripped her chin from his grasp and shook her head. “No. In fact, why don’t you just wipe everything that happened in that level from your memory forever?”

There was something about being in excruciating pain that had postponed her embarrassment. But now that her senses had returned, sharpened from the power of his magic, she couldn’t help but be mortified by everything he just witnessed. She had cried.

Next time, just take the plummet into the ocean of lava, she chided herself.

His expression turned frustrated. “If this voice is making you hurt yourself⁠—”

“I can fix myself without your help.” She huffed. “I was just under a lot of stress. It gets louder when I’m stressed.”

“Ophelia.” His tone was firm now. “You don’t need to fix yourself. You’re not broken. But it’s okay to get outside help if it gets too loud.”

“I can control it,” she insisted. “Just drop it.”

“It was making you beat your hand into a bloody pulp,” he stated bluntly. “Excuse me for being concerned.”

“You don’t get it,” she whispered.

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