First Ritual (#1)
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Chaos Pact (#2)
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Last Gift (#3)
I’m Tempest Corentine—twenty-one, single, and already dreading the next twenty-one years. Except one month ago, the impossible happened. I formed a magical bond with someone I’ve never met. The link appeared in my darkest moment, and finding this person is my sole purpose.
Two issues:
The magus probably lives in The Buried Knolls.
The coven there might have murdered my family.
My plan? Kiss the hot guy at the bar in case I die tonight. Knock on the coven’s door. See if the council kills me at the next full moon. Foolproof.
Whether it’s fake relationships, a supernatural game, or unfathomable matching runes showing up on me and a gorgeous male grimoire, I’ll do whatever it takes to find the person on the other end of this bond.
Just try to stop me.
“And we do have a choice, you’re wrong.”
I cut him off. “I choose to love who and what is good for me.” I wrenched the door open.
“Even if the bad feels fucking perfect?” he called.
I paused in the entrance. He’d summed up this dangerous, painful thing between us in one sentence. The bad did feel fucking perfect.
“Even then.”
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"If you go into chaos, then I’ll follow you there.”
“To live in darkness?”
“To live with you in whichever state. I’d prefer to exist in balance, but if it comes down to it, I’ll take chaos with you over peace elsewhere. Without doubt.”
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“I want to break you into so many pieces that only I know how to put you together again. And when I do, there will only be me.”
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“Everything about me makes you crazy. My weenus probably turns you on too.”
“A weenus better not be what I think it is.”
I smirked. “It’s the loose skin on the back of the elbow.”
His brows rose. “Really?”
“Yep.” I held my arm up for him. “See?”
He touched my elbow. “Yeah, that works. I’m hard. I wonder why. Has anyone else touched your weenus?”
“You’re the first, handsome. The last too. I was saving it for someone special.”
“This is one of the weirdest fucking conversations I’ve ever heard,” Corey muttered.
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