Page 28 of Obsidian and Frost

The Dark Fae took advantage of it and fired his power mercilessly with both palms, making Lazriel roar and shudder, keeping him down.

But then I saw his claws drop and he actually pushed off the ground, glaring at his opponent, seething and gnashing his teeth, his eyes on fire, a moment before his fangs dropped as well, a stunning combination of wolf and vampire all at once.

He rose and rose and the Dark Fae stepped back worriedly.

And then Lazriel flashed a bloodied grin and lunged at him in a burst of speed, driving him down to the floor.

What followed next was one hell of a gory display, Lazriel roaring and snarling as he beat and beat and beat.

It was the raw, caged energy of a beast who only felt free immersed in mindless, no-holds-barred violence.

My cock twitched, unbidden.

Because, fuck me, I wanted to play with that.

With the volatile fire that was at the heart of it all for him.

With the truth buried beneath all the rest.

With the damage that called to my own.

A flicker of power touched me, startling me.

Familiar power.

I spun from the fight and caught sight of a glimmer of white light over by one of the entrance tunnels.

Hewas here.

I’d recognize that power signature anywhere.

After all, it had saved my life.

I swung back to the fight briefly just as Lazriel was crowned the winner yet again, and then I followed after the unexpected visitor.

I rushed through the tunnel and came out at the rear of the campus grounds far away from the main building itself. Warmth came and went as I passed back through the protective enchantment.

The unprecedented interloper wasn’t immediately visible, but before I needed to search him out, his voice rang out.

“How dangerous is he?”

I turned to my left as he emerged from a mammoth willow tree.

I walked to him out of the way of everything and everyone and met him halfway.

“Cassius,” I greeted. “Long time.”

And that long time had certainly altered him.

His new look definitely reflected his changed status as a Fallen and the rejection of ceremonial grandeur. His white-blond hair was shorter now, barely brushing his shoulders. He was clad in dark colors almost blending entirely into the night with his charcoal shirt with rolled sleeves and a pair of blackslacks, along with a black jacket worn at the edges. There was also an odd burst of color from a beaded bracelet that was a stark contrast to the rest.

“Indeed. You look well.”

“Appearances can be deceiving.”

There was no point hiding the truth of my health from him, because he’d seen me severely desiccated before, almost to the point of no return.

He gestured at Graverun now several feet from us. “Is that the case with Lazriel Thaine? Or is the surface of what I’ve observed truly who he is?”