Elara Voss had hunted shadows since she was old enough to wield a blade etched with ancient runes. At twenty-eight, the raven-haired sorceress was a force of lethal grace,slender yet athletic, with full breasts that strained against her fitted leather corset, a narrow waist, and hips that swayed with dangerous confidence.
Her emerald eyes glowed faintly when she channeled magic, and her long legs were sheathed in thigh-high boots perfect for both running and wrapping around a lover.
Thorne Blackwood was the opposite of her controlled elegance. A brooding demon hunter in his mid-thirties, he stood six-foot-four of pure, scarred muscle. His broad chest and powerful arms were marked by old claw wounds and infernal burns. Dark hair fell over piercing silver eyes that had seen too many hells.
