Recent content by Imogen Celreos

Imogen sipped from her glass slowly, buying herself one more precious second of composure, though her pulse throbbed hot in her ears. Her lips curved into a languid smirk as she watched him squirm before her, and gods, she liked seeing him undone like this. She needed more of that. Her teeth...

Her breaths grew shallow, tight, each one dragging through her chest as though she’d run for miles. Her pulse pounded in her throat and between her ribs, loud enough she was certain he could hear it. She could not take her eyes off of him, the sight of Greydon Tomyris, the face she’d thought of...

Her eyes never left him as he crawled to her, her face a picture of calm composure and subtle amusement, but her mind and heart were anything but calm. She should tell him to go. She really, really should. And yet… every inch of her skin prickled alive under the weight of his gaze. Her...

How many men in her life had, much to their later regret, called her things like darling or sweetheart? Quite a few. And never, not once, had she ever felt herself swoon. Never had her cheeks betrayed her like this, pale skin warming under the weight of the word as though he’d just lit a match...

Imogen stared down into her glass, the amber liquid catching the light as her thoughts turned cold. “Yes…” she said quietly.. “I know what kind of man he is.” Each time Ilir’s hands had been on her, his touch had been a cold, cruel thing that made her skin crawl. A reminder of the bars around...

Gods, even the way he was looking at her made her blood heat, and the graze of his fingers against hers had sparked a fresh flame. “Nor am I…” she murmured, watching him over the rim of her glass as he tipped his head back, column of his throat bared - a perfect target, and yet the last thing...

It was the most she’d ever heard him say in one go, and for a moment she simply looked at him, her expression softening despite herself. She had not expected him to speak of anything so raw, or to see that quiet vulnerability in his face. “I'm sorry to hear that.. Drazhan is in good hands with...

Her breath caught in her throat at the word distraction. As though thoughts of him hadn’t already been exactly that - her one escape from the cage her life had become. More than once, Ilir or Ivan had said her name with a sharpness that snapped her out of it, accusing her of daydreaming, as...

Emerald eyes tracked him as he moved toward the door, her heart lurching when she thought he meant to open it, only to feel a strange rush of relief when she heard the lock click into place. It should have made her tense. Gods, she had drawn a blade on him once. But it didn’t. She shouldn’t be...

There was an unmistakable sinking in her chest at his words — two days ago. As though some foolish part of her had expected him to come straight to her the moment he was able, as though she had some right to be the first thing on his mind. He was the only place her mind went when she needed to...

Imogen blinked at the soft tapping, her brow furrowing as her head lifted from her book. “What is that dragon doing..?” she muttered under her breath, swinging her legs off the bed and padding across the room, her bare feet silent on the carpet. “Vaelith, I s—” The words died in her throat...

Imogen allowed herself only a few minutes. A few ragged breaths, a few hot tears spilled into the pillow before she forced herself to sit upright. Enough. Her mother had always told her that crying was an indulgence a Celreos could not afford, and she had abided for the most part, her mother...

The height of a horse and just a little wider, Vaelith prowled beside Imogen like a shadow come alive, his long, sleek body weaving through the street with predatory grace. His kind were the most venomous creatures known to Thanasian, and as usual, people scattered, clutching their children to...

A gasp escaped her as Ilir slammed her into the wall, the wood shuddering beneath the force. Her body went rigid, every muscle locking tight save for the ragged, shallow breaths forcing her chest to rise and fall. She had nothing — no blade, no poison, no power at all. For the first time, Imogen...

Imogen’s brow arched at the mention of Eira, though she didn’t flinch. She had heard the story, but she also knew that her cousins had been out for blood. “Perhaps that is why Eira and I are so similar…” she said, letting the words linger, letting him wonder what she meant. Her smile was faint...