Chapter 9

Evie

Barataria Preserve, Marrero, Louisiana

H oly mother of witches, he was so beautiful that it almost hurt to look at him. Ebony hair, high cheekbones with a sharp chin, lightly tanned skin, those piercing green eyes lit with intensity and fire. He was so tall that she was all but looking straight up, his tall, lean frame dwarfing her. Even as he drew her towards him, one hand in her hair, she knew she could stop this at any time, but she didn’t want to. The scent of smoky mint wrapped around her, and it smelled like home. His eyes were locked on hers, and, suddenly, she couldn’t breathe. Could barely even think.

She needed to think, though. He had asked her a question, not that she could remember what it was. What she did remember was that voice. She had heard it countless times before in her life. So hearing it for real? Gods, she needed to hear it again, but the only way for her to do that was for her to open her cursed mouth and freaking speak. That’s how conversations worked. Only it felt like the connection between her brain and her mouth had been severed as her body settled against his, his hand still in her hair, the other hand now settled low on her back, practically grabbing her ass.

“Evangeline?” he repeated, unraveling his finger from her hair before cupping her cheek in his hand, his thumb rubbing absently along her face.

She flushed at his touch, heat crawling down her spine, and she couldn’t help but rest her face against his palm. A low rumble sounded in his chest, and she pressed closer into him, wanting nothing more than to feel that vibration against her body.

His thumb traced along her cheekbone. “ Un petit ange ,” he murmured, so low that she wasn’t actually sure he even meant to say it aloud.

Finally, her mouth received her brain’s order to speak. “Evie,” she corrected hoarsely. Her voice cracked on her own name as it fell from her mouth, but she couldn’t even blame herself for that. She had never felt like this before. There was fire under her skin, and her magic positively purred at the feeling of his body against hers, power seeping uncontrollably from her pores.

Around them, the devastated forest clearing shifted, tree roots coming to life and shoving their reformed roots into the ground, rising back to their original stance as if a giant hand had lifted them and put everything to rights.

At the center of it all, unaware of the chaos around them, she and her mystery man stood, staring deep into one another’s eyes. She needed to know his name more than she needed her next breath. “Who are you?”