Dana Ilic and the Shadow Door (Lightwielder Chronicles #1) | ✔️

Everybody loves Indira Goel?

"Dress shirt—check. Tie—check. Dress slacks—check." Blake leisurely waved a printed out immaculate sample of "8th Grade Dance" invitation at me.

Then he graciously slid inside with a single hop from the window sill like a big, purring tomcat, and gestured at his impeccable all-black attire.

"Wait a friggin' minute. Is that a Ralph Lauren shirt? Armani dress slacks? O.M.G." My jaw dropped. "And... No way! Christian Louboutin Louis Junior Orlato Low Top Sneakers?"

Blake smirked and tightened his mercury grey tie around his neck with a smug movement. "With the obligatory signature scent: "Silver Shadow," by Davidoff." He ran his fingers through his hair with a self-contented sigh, and took a step toward me.

Silver Shadow. Of course.

Sima growled and it made me shake off my stupor.

The crisp edge of the pavement glistening after the warm summer rain, pine wood branches and the scent of the moonlit night combo could not sway me, no sir-ee!

This was a bloody Shadow Drake himself standing in my bedroom!

As if nothing had happened, as if I had not seen him command hundreds of Shadow Soldiers, in a shape of a formidable three-story building sized dragon.

As if we had never dueled a mere week ago.

As if...

I had not seen him and Morana take off with Max.

Grr!

I firmly placed my hands on my hips and bent forward, soo ready to give him a piece of my mind.

"Blake? Where the hell did you get all that stuff? What are you doing here? Why are you here? How did you find me?"

"You're like a question machine." A corner of his mouth twisted upwards. 
"And most importantly, why are you wearing 8th Grade Dance dress code garments?"

"Maybe I like playing dress-up?" He teased.

"That's enough! I've had it with you!" I lifted my hand and a fist-sized light ball flew at his head.

Blake ducked in an effortless fashion and returned himself in the upright position in a matter of split second.

The light ball continued its merry journey through the window and towards the afternoon sky and soon the sighs of ooh, aah, and what is that thing, mommy were heard.

I slapped my forehead.

"Didn't they teach you not to play with fire... Or in this case, light?" He chuckled.

"Is everything alright up there, Dana?" I heard my aunt's worried voice asking from the ground floor. "I thought I heard some strange noises."

Blake had that smug let's-see-how-you'll-explain-your-aunt-you-have-a-boy-in-your-bedroom gaze.

The bastard.

I swung the door open and yelled down: "Everything's a-ok, auntie! It's... It's, um... Sima. He was barking at some bird. I was just telling him I've had it with his noise."

"You sure you don't want me to come upstairs?" I heard her Wellington-boot clad foot step on the first rickety stair.

"No, no, no, I'm perfectly fine! No need to come up! Just, err..."

Dammit brain, think fast!

Blake ran his fingers through his hair and winked at me.

"Yes! I'm just... Doing my hair! Will be right down!"