Choosing to say out of the Alliance, the Cinders are isolated in their own conflicts, and when Helia Cinder reaches to the void for answers, she inadvertently draws a creature out. Expecting to be eaten alive, she is instead left with a man with no...
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"I'm spending the weekend with my father for his slave training," Helia called around the shelves of books as Zane loaded up her messenger bag with her order. Books passed through her hands like water falling through the leaves, quickly cascading until they hit the ground with a splat. She dropped a stack next to her bag on the library's main desk, and Zane gave her a look of abject horror. Zane Fleet was an ash-haired book nerd of a mage general, but the sheer volume of reading Helia did outclassed anyone at the integration college. That's what they called this place anyway.
Skytower College was named after the town's origin function, but after the years, it had settled as an educational institution for mages and vampires alike to work together. It had been centuries since the high watchtowers of the Fleet mages had stood as beacons of power and protection. Now one was a clock tower in the center of town, and the others had grown buildings on them, from apartments to the local dentistry. 'Watching out for cavities' was the lamest slogan Helia had ever read.
"I pity you, Helia," Zane said with a sigh, his shoulders sinking, and they were nice shoulders indeed. Wide and covered in a green and yellow, plaid work shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, they complimented his thick muscles nicely. Zane Fleet was book nerd, sure, but he was also a battleground-trained general class mage. "You can stay if you want." Zane smiled with his perfect teeth, licking his eyes up and down her body that was thankfully buried in layers of mage robes.
Fluffy white sleeves over a loose red undershirt, all wrapped around a tight, protective bodice, guaranteed that Zane would never know the actual shape of her body. All he got to see was her nice face–smooth, blushed peach skin, full lips, and eyes that could char a man's wing ding off if they thought they were getting in her pants. Cinder blood ran her veins, full of power and flame magic that dyed her eyes sunset orange, churning darker to crimson when she fought and lightening to vermillion when she laughed. They were unique, passionate, and greatly desired by every man she passed.
The Cinders, as a house, produced some of the most powerful leaders and warriors in mage history, and any prominent male mage wanted to bed and breed her like a prized mare. Helia was the youngest grand mage in history, receiving the title on her twenty-first birthday a few months back. Flames called to her with a ferocity that crushed her enemies and rivals alike. Many Cinders had difficulty controlling their magic, often resulting in injury to allies if they lost hold of the flames, or their spells would sputter weakly if the mage was too afraid to tame it.
Helia suffered neither affliction.
Since a child, she'd danced with fire, conjuring flames with ease and corralling them to her bidding with confidence that they would hold steadfast and obey her commands. A lot of it was genetics, as she was the direct heir to the Cinder's main line, but some was her father's strict upbringing, and the rest, her own desire to grow strong, stronger than her mother who'd vanished in her youth.
No one would ever make her disappear.
That strict adherence to her regiment kept her pretty disinterested in guys. Was Zane hot? Yeah. Short grey hair ran the top of his head in airy, natural spikes, and his eyes glittered the same deep grey when he smiled and laughed. The guy'd already scarred her six ways to Sunday copulating in the back room of the library. Sometimes she could leave, but others she needed the books that were locked up in the mage vaults, and only Zane had access. Those days, she just thumped her forehead repeatedly on a wall while some girl screamed his name and moaned for more.
