Page 33 of Obsidian and Frost

Before I could even begin to processthatmajor mind-fuck, he gestured at his offered hand. “Shall we then?”

I sucked in a breath, then took his hand.

Heat infused me in the very next moment and a gasp escaped me at the unfamiliar rush of his magic wrapping around mine, fusing together.

His grip tightened and his eyes locked with mine, glowing vibrantly with his dark-red power. He looked absolutely entranced and taken with this joining, even more than I was.

His other hand was fisted down by his side and shaking a little.

I frowned. This sort of spell should be nothing for a necromancer of his caliber.

He’d also gone abnormally quiet—especially from what I knew about him.

He was concentrating, but not merely on the spell.

I studied him. Wait. Was he… measuring something, cataloguing our interaction and fusion? Why?

Because I’d impacted his power accidentally once before?

I went to pull away instinctively, something feeling off, but it was too late, my shadow magic swirling around us,just as tendrils of his dark-red power wrapped around them, encompassing us wholly within moments.

I gritted my teeth then called my Dark Fae magic to stabilize it, watching as my purple power infiltrated the swirling matrix enveloping us.

It calmed within moments, then all the color drained from it and it became a translucent film, undetectable to anyone beyond it, melding into our surroundings.

“Well done,” Sylas said.

I stared at him.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing.” I turned back to the magical doorway.

And then, with him connected to me via the spell, I finally took that step forward.

Holy hell.

The Fadewas really something.

An experience fused together by special magic and illusion.

Shadow-chutes coiled from the trees. They were long, twisting slides made of shadow and cold smoke. Riding one was like sliding through a tunnel of pure night, like floating through icy fog. They were honestly a treat to experience and I’d actually done it once before with Nyx when we’d had some downtime at Crossborn.

Above, blood-colored clouds pulsed and silver upside-down trees twisted out of stone ceilings like ghostly veins. Stars sparkled in amongst it all.

Vines snaked across the curved cavern walls and magical fog drifted past my ankles.

Everywhere power flowed freely. Magic-wielders levitated above as they danced, some holding vampires and wolves there with them, the erotic beat reverberating around.

Beyond this main area, there were several specially conjured environments.

One area flickered in and out of focus, its glass walls showing people’s deepest desires—most sexual in nature. Because it was that kind of party where inhibitions didn’t exist.

There was a crimson pool where students floated and drank elixirs, some laughing and chatting, some playing catch with a shimmering levitating magical golden ball of light, others immersed in some erotic play right there in front of everyone else. I winced at that… definitely not my thing.

There was a magical arcade area as well where games, dares, and contests were taking place—some Dark Fae and Shadowmancers engaging in shadow duels. Some creating mini-illusions with each contestant vying to produce the most creative one. And then there were vampires leaping and speeding from tree tops and racing. There was even an arm-wrestling contest taking place where many were gathered around.

My breath caught as I saw Lazriel there engaging with a sorcerer whose hand was glowing with his auburn magic—the same color as his spiky hair—while Lazriel’s eyes were narrowed with what appeared to be barely-checked fury, as he somehow eclipsed even the strength of a magic-wielder and pushed against the guy, overpowering him.