Illicit: Challenge of the Immortals, #1

By Kym Dillon

In the immortal world, mating between species is strictly forbidden…

Interbreeding among the five immortal realms:
Vampires, Lycans, Dragons, Sorceresses, and Fairies,
is punishable by death.
But, accidents happen…

When record label executive, Forester James, first sees Songstress Dahlia Danzer, he knows he should stay away.
But the chemistry is so intense, that it's nearly impossible not to give in. Even when yielding may prove fatal.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lovestruck Romance
• Release date: Jun 27, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201804770

Book preview

The immortal world, where mating between species is forbidden…

For centuries, the five immortal realms:

Vampyres, Lycans, Dragons, Sorceresses, and Fairies,

maintained a shaky peace, but only because they shared a common enemy—mankind.

---

Eventually, mankind forgot immortals existed.

They became nothing but legends and old wives’ tales.

It was what immortals had hoped for.

They’d been waiting for their chance to rule.

---

That day has finally arrived.

---

Every immortal realm feels change in the air.

Laws bend and dissolve during this time of conflict.

But one rule remains steadfast:

---

Interbreeding is forbidden.

Period. No exceptions.

The punishment for breaking this sacred rule

is most certain DEATH.

PROLOGUE

Stephan threw a glass at her head, but Dahlia had been expecting it. Her long fingers caught it easily before it could shatter at the wall behind her. She faced the inebriated bastard with narrowed, contemptuous eyes.

What the hell have I told you about all that wailing and shrieking in this house? Stephan slurred, his eyes bloodshot as he lumbered toward her, obviously incensed about the fact that she wasn’t afraid.

You would think he’d be used to it by now, she mused bitterly. Knowing that he doesn’t scare me.

Dahlia reasoned that was half the problem. The less she reacted, the more it infuriated him. That fact, however, did nothing but inspire her to maintain her cold stoicism. She was stubborn that way.

Keep pushing me, old man. Come on, she willed him, her eyes locked on his reddening face. Just a few steps closer…

Leave her alone, Stephan! her mother cried, stepping between them, her eyes wide with fear. She’s just practicing!

She sounds like a dying cat! Dahlia’s stepfather hissed, his breath reeking of cheap liquor as he neared her. You think anyone wants to listen to you, little bitch? You think you’re going to be some world-famous singer? You’ll be lucky if you end up turning tricks at the Super 8.

They were not unfamiliar words, certainly not coming from him, but they stung all the same, no matter how many times Dahlia heard them spew from his vile mouth. Stephan raised a hand to slap her, but Carina took the blow before her daughter could stop him. Fury spiked through Dahlia’s veins. Before she could retaliate, her mother turned and cast her a warning look. The fear in Carina’s eyes had nothing to do with Stephan—she was terrified of what Dahlia would do.

Dahlia wished her mother would focus as much attention on leaving the sonofabitch as she did on playing mediator. The thought was useless. Carina Davies wasn’t going anywhere. It was just something that Dahlia was going to have to get used to.

Honey, go practice in the garage, Carina whispered urgently to her daughter, and Dahlia scoffed. There was no point in arguing that the house was hers too, that she had just as much right to stay there as Stephan.

Practice? Is that what she’s doing? The neighborhood hounds are howling in misery; the windows are on the verge of shattering. Spare us all our eardrums. Stephan taunted, and Dahlia felt her fists clench at her sides. She knew he was egging her on so that if he hit her, he could later claim he was provoked.

Please? Carina begged, and Dahlia had no choice but to obey. What else could she do? The twelve-year-old was well accustomed to Stephan’s drunken outbursts, and the result was always the same—Carina would intervene before her headstrong daughter could inflict any real damage on the man her mother claimed to love.

She was too young to understand the dynamics of her parents. To Dahlia, it defied all logic that a woman like her mother could find anything remotely appealing about her stepfather. He was an ugly, cruel man without a single redeeming quality.

Carina, by all accounts, was beautiful, smart, and far more powerful.

What was the point of having powers if she wasn’t allowed to use them? Dahlia thought furiously, making her way into the garage through the kitchen entrance. She was trembling with anger but there was nothing she could do but force herself to calm down.

For ten years, she had known nothing but this life, with an intoxicated father figure and a mother trying to keep the peace. Every day, she had waited for her mother to come to her senses about the waste of skin that was Stephan Davies, and every day, she was disappointed.

It was becoming clearer and clearer to Dahlia that the only escape she’d ever have would come when she was old enough to leave the house. So, she counted the days.

Dahlia slammed the door to the garage with enough force that the windows truly did shake on the house. She knew she was silently daring Stephan to come and confront her again, but of course, Carina wouldn’t allow it.

One of these days, Dahlia vowed silently. Mom won’t be around to protect him, and I’ll see he gets what’s coming to him.

But even as she thought it, Dahlia knew it would never happen. She was old enough to know the rules and the consequences of breaking them. She was bound to adhere to the laws of the sorceresses, just like her mother. There would be no teaching Stephan a lesson, not without facing the punishment of the Council.

And she wouldn’t be treated as a child anymore if she was brought before the Coven again.

Dahlia forced her mind away from the Council and Stephan. She didn’t want to think about all the things wrong with her life.

She didn’t care what Stephan said about her voice. One day, she was going to be a singer, and then she was going to openly humiliate Stephan on a world stage.

It was the petty thought of a hurt child, but it did seem to refocus her energy on what was important—singing.

With a deep, quavering breath, she permitted herself to begin her song, one she had written and composed herself. It was only when she was singing that she felt free, removed from the confines of all which weighed her down in life.

As the first note escaped her lips, she closed her jade-colored eyes and relished the breath escaping loosely from her diaphragm to overtake the garage.

Ethereal… she began. One day, you’ll know just how I feel.

A feeling of peace blanketed her, and the ire she’d harbored toward Stephan began to dissipate.

Music. That was her cure-all. It released endorphins and transcended all the realms. It brought everyone together, even in times of uncertainty.

Wrapped up in her music, Dahlia forgot about everything else, allowing herself to become transported by the warmth flowing through her. Music was what would save her.

But before she could start the second verse of the song, there was a muffled crash beyond the garage door, and Dahlia choked off midword.

Now what was that jackass doing?

Her heart began to race again as she listened, but there was no other sound, and Dahlia clenched her teeth together as she made her way back into the house.

Mom? she called out. Are you okay?

I’m here, hon. Everything’s fine.

Dahlia hurried toward the living room and paused, her mouth becoming a line of discontent. Stephan had flipped the tables, and glass was strewn all about.

Don’t come in here, Dahlia, Carina warned. There’s glass everywhere.

Dahlia rolled her eyes, entered anyway, and began to help her mother clean up the mess. Any cut she might get would heal in seconds. That wasn’t Carina’s concern.

Just leave it, Dahlia, Carina insisted. Please. This isn’t your problem.

That was only partly true.

No, he’s your problem, Mom. What are you doing about him? Dahlia snapped, unable to stop herself. It was a conversation they’d had hundreds of times before to no end.

Why did she even keep asking that? The answer was always the same.

Dahlia, he’s your father—

HE IS NOT MY FATHER! she hissed, her voice barely audible despite the force of the words. You won’t tell me who my father is, remember?

Carina balked at her daughter’s statement and looked away.

I’m not doing this with you right now, Carina mumbled. I know Stephan can be difficult, Dahlia, but he is the only man you’ve ever known as your father.

Some father. He calls me a whore and throws things at me. Mom, you could put a stop to this so easily—

STOP IT! Carina cried, whipping her blonde head around to glare at her daughter. You’re old enough to know better.

In truth, Carina was the older, spitting image of her daughter with deep green eyes and ash-blonde hair, but there was an unmistakable sorrow inside her, which seeped from her pores and seemed to stifle the air around her.

So are you! Dahlia shot back. "You know better, and you have the power to do better. You could make him act like a proper human being—"

I can’t and you know it! Carina growled. It’s against the rules.

"Then, if you