Rosalie “Rosalie, are you alright?” Somewhere in amongst the confusion, I must have fallen to the floor. Landon’s face coming back into view as he pulled me into an upright position. “Just breathe Rosie. Everything is OK, you are home now.” He eyed me worriedly. His blue eyes darting around my face. Becoming increasingly aware of how close he was, and the fact I could feel every single inch of his body touching my skin, I try to pull away. But it was no use. It would seem Landon was in no hurry to let me go. My cheeks begin to warm under his scrutiny. His worry soon began to harden into what looked like anger. “Where the hell have you been Rosalie.” He spat out, not necessarily viciously, but close to it. “You disappear without a trace for eight years, and now you decide to come back. Do you have any idea how worried we have all been?” His words stung. Of course, I knew. In fact, for weeks, months even, after I first fell through time, all I wanted to do was return home and comfo

Rosalie Estelle had once been the bane of my existence. Baying for my crown and doing her best to push me away from Alex. Thankfully, none of her exploits had worked. And eventually, even she, the Germanic witch, had managed to find true love herself, despite everything. Estelle had rarely set foot back into Castle Black in the years that followed. And if she did, she certainly didn’t show her face into court. “Estelle is here to answer some questions.” Alex spoke before Estelle could answer for herself. She didn’t even flinch at his tone. Just carried on eyeing me with a smug grin plastered to her face. There was no reason why Estelle’s presence should affect me the way it did. She was hardly a rival anymore. But there was something about her assumed superiority of me. And the very fact that she knew secrets about me that no one else did, was enough for me to dislike her. “Questions about what?” I ask, moving into the room and around the large office table to stand behind Alex. Es

It was said many moons ago that Tamara, the first witch in the Walker blood line, fell in love with a mere human. The coven was known as the Votadini then. They had settled in what was the small village of Alauna, or more commonly known as the city of Edinburgh in more recent history. Tamara was the daughter of the coven elder. A man of great power and respect. It was he that created the Coven of Votadini. Amadeus was one of many who had been turned away from his own village after showing signs of unworldly gifts. Magic was rich in the lives of everyday people, the air we breathed was considered to be magic. Growing crops and flowers was believed to be magic. Magic brought riches that no one could explain, but it was also a dark time to be alive. Demons wondered the earth freely, destroying all that stood in their paths. Sickness and plagues devoured whole villages and destroyed livelihoods, all set about by a witch casting a curse, or allowing a stranger to pass over the threshold.

Rosalie “Tamara banished the demon to a realm that no one could enter. And no one, least of all Tenebris could leave. She cursed him to live in solitude, whilst she lived on the outside, a full and happy life I can only assume. And when she passed away, so too did any chance of Tenebris enacting his evil on the world.” Estelle brough her story to a close. A story which had opened far more questions that it hoped to answer. “If this is the case, and Tenebris was really vanquished when Tamara passed away. Then why now am I dreaming of his resurrection?” This was the one part of the story that did not add up for me. “I only know of the legend. Tamara came from old druid magic. A dark blood magic. Unlike my own earth magic. Blood magic comes at a price and often comes with strings attached. There are often conditions that not even the caster will know about until it is all too late. I would assume that Tenebris found a loophole, a way to escape being vanquished.” “But that would mean

Rosalie My breath was coming in short, fast intakes. My heart hammering as I come down from my orgasm. Alex’s lips continuing their lazy assault as they wonder up and down the length of my neck. “Go and kneel on the edge of the bed.” He whispers, his voice taking on a husky edge, his eyes weighing heavy on me as they peer at me over my shoulder and through the thick locks of my red hair in the mirror. I couldn’t help but notice how flushed and wanton I looked. The perfect picture of a woman in lust. Although he had all but crippled me with his touch, he had left me wanting more. The evidence of his own arousal sitting heavy against my backside. With one last kiss to the shoulder, he pushes me gently in the direction of the bed. With three unsteady steps, I do as he asks, and kneel on the bed, my feet dangling off the edge waiting in anticipation for what was to come. He wasted no time in getting his clothes off. The sound of fabric being ripped over his head and thrown to the