Queen of Abaddon

Raven shoved herself to her feet, pulling from willpower she didn't know she had, to scramble to the railing that overlooked the remainder of the library seven floors below.Drake of Tanith stood at the base of the stairs, looking up. The gray marble flooring at his feet appeared to have been scorched; a black scar of searing evidence radiated out from his boots in a star pattern. The smell of smoke filled the air. An angry magic-formed wind ripped through his hair and tore through his cloak, and yet he remained unmoving, a statue of absolutely beautiful darkness, with glowing eyes.Those eyes imprisoned hers. Time stopped.In that new stillness, he held her fast and slowly began to climb the stairs, a predator stalking skittish prey. The rest of the world fell away, and they were alone."Raven," he said.His voice was that of the king of Abaddon now, and echoed with the power of his title. It was the embodiment of promise and need, that duo that tore down a strong person's last...