“I’m sure.” I place my hand over his heart, feeling it pound beneath my palm. “I’m terrified and uncertain about a thousand things. But not about this. Not about you. Not about us.”
He searches my face, looking for any hesitation. Then, finding none, he cups my face in both hands and kisses me.
Not the gentle kisses we’ve shared before. This is hunger and promise and need all tangled together. His mouth claims mine with an intensity that makes my knees weak, and I grab his shoulders for balance, pulling him closer.
We break apart gasping, and his eyes are moltensilver. “Are you absolutely certain? Because once we start, I won’t want to stop.”
“Good,” I say, already reaching for the laces of his shirt. “Because neither will I.”
His control snaps.
Magnus lifts me in one fluid motion, carrying me toward the hot spring. We shed clothing frantically—my borrowed Mountain Cat garb hitting the stone, his leather and fur following. I catch glimpses of his body in the ice-light—allpowerful muscle and pale skin marked with scars that tell stories of battles and survival.
“You’re stunning,” I whisper, tracing one particularly long scar across his ribs.
“You’re perfect,” he counters, his hands spanning my waist, thumbs brushing the underside of my breasts.
We sink into the hot spring, the water exactly the right temperature—hot enough to ease muscles without burning, deep enough to float in. Magnus pulls me against him, and the sensation of skin against skin makes me gasp.
“Tell me what you want,” he says, his voice rough with desire. “Tell me what you need.”
“You,” I say simply. “Just you. All of you.”
He kisses me again, deeper this time, one hand tangling in my hair while the other explores my body beneath the water. Every touch sends heat through me, building pressure that demands release.
I explore him in turn, learning the landscape of his body—the hard planes of his chest, the curve of his shoulders, the way he shudders when I trace lower, wrapping my hand around him beneath the water.
“Lyra,” he groans, his head falling back. “You’re killing me.”
“Good,” I say, emboldened by his response. “Because you’ve been killing me for days with wanting you.”
His hands grip my hips, lifting me slightly. “Then let’s stop the torture.”
He positions me over him, and I feel him pressing against my entrance. The stretch is intense as I sink down slowly, taking him inch by inch. We both freeze when I’m fully seated, adjusting to the overwhelming sensation of connection.
“Okay?” Magnus asks, his voice strained with the effort of staying still.
“More than okay,” I manage. “Move. Please, Magnus, move.”
He does, lifting me and pulling me back down in a rhythm that builds steadily. The water helps, buoyancy making the movement smoother, but it’s the bond between us that makes it extraordinary. Through our connection, I feel his pleasure mixing with mine, amplifying everything until I can’t tell where I end and he begins.
Our magic rises without conscious call—his ice and my storm merging, creating visible patterns of frost and lightning that dance across the water’s surface. The cave fills with our combined power, and somewhere in the back of my mind I understand: This is what mating should be. Not force or theft, but free exchange, two people choosing to merge completely.
Magnus shifts position, bracing against the edge of the spring, changing the angle so every thrust hits perfectly. I cry out, pleasure building impossibly higher, and he captures my mouth in a kiss that swallows the sound.
“Look at me,” he demands. “I want to see you when you come apart.”
I force my eyes open, meet his gaze, and the intensity there pushes me over the edge. My climax crashes through me, pulling a scream from my throat, my inner muscles clenching around him rhythmically.
Through the bond, I feel his release follow—feel his body tighten, feel the waves of pleasure that mirror my own, feel the moment our magic completes something that was always meant to exist.
We cling to each other in the water, both trembling, both gasping for breath. Magnus holds me against his chest, one hand stroking my hair, while our combined magic slowly fades from visible manifestation to a quiet hum that will always exist between us now.
“That was...” I can’t find words.
“Everything,” Magnus finishes. “That was everything.”
We stay in the spring until the water begins to cool, then move to the furs Magnus apparently prepared earlier. He wraps us both in warmth, his wings folding around us to create a private cocoon.
