The Vesna Legacy

Josefine, a doctor, uses the magic of her hands to heal people and is not afraid to use this ability against the will of the Magic Council. Valentin Lazar, the last of the dragons and the most powerful of all shapeshifters, is supposed to put the unruly healer in her place. But Josefine resists his power. Passion quickly flares up between the two rivals. Could Josefine really be a descendant of the Vesna people, the legendary dragon companions? When the Dark Alves invade the human world and everything is on the brink of destruction, Valentin is the only one who can stand up to them. But the dragon is guarding a terrible secret that could mean the destruction of them all

Excerpt:

He had scraped together the last of his reserves of strength and unleashed his power on her. But she had been completely unimpressed. Which was impossible. Nothing and no one was unimpressed by his power. After all, he was the One, the last of his kind.

But she didn't seem to care. Instead of trembling and sinking to her knees in front of him, she had stared angrily into his eyes as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

She had had to support him on the way to the bed. Her grip on his waist had been firm. Firm and secure. Somewhere, far away, a feeling emerged at that touch. A distant memory that made him painfully aware of how long it had been since anyone had been this close to him.

Her cool hands on his hot skin brought surprising relief to his agony. He should have stopped it, but he had no strength left to resist. And he didn't want to. Her presence was strangely comforting, and so he let her be. As his mind drifted further and further away, he clung tightly to this feeling of closeness.

The inferno inside him erupted like a volcano, spewing its first load of lava into the world. The beast was there and took over without further ado.

Her voice came through the rubble of his collapsed consciousness, strangely distorted, but clearly angry. "Breathe, damn you!"

He ran a hand carefully over his forehead. The expected all-consuming pain in his skull did not materialise. He slowly opened his eyes and waited until the black streaks in his vision disappeared.

She was above him. Her red curls were sticking out in all directions and her hands were firmly on his temples, massaging them. This doctor wasn't just kneeling over him, she was sitting on him. He could now feel the pressure of her weight on his hips. She was so close to him, and he blinked in confusion.

"Damn, you were convulsing so hard, I thought you were going to die under my very eyes."

She exhaled audibly and carefully shifted her weight backwards on him. Reflexively, he reached for her hands. If she let go of him now, his head would explode. He was sure of that.

He wanted to hold her tight, to hold her close to him, but she skilfully wriggled out of his weakened arms. He instinctively clenched his teeth, held his breath and tensed up again to be prepared for the next wave of pain, but it didn't come. He slowly relaxed and exhaled carefully.

After a moment, she placed her palms on his chest, and his vision suddenly became crystal clear. He landed in reality as if nothing had happened. The physical weakness fell away from him. His whole body wasn't trembling as it usually did after these attacks, nor was there the familiar pain in his chest. Nothing.

Dettagli