"Maybe it is." She rolls onto her stomach, presenting her ass in clear invitation. "Maybe I want to see just how overwhelming you can be."
The position sends primal satisfaction through me—my omega presenting, trusting me enough to be vulnerable, choosing to submit in the most explicit way possible.
"Dangerous game," I warn, positioning myself behind her.
"I like danger," she says, looking back at me over her shoulder. "Especially when it's wrapped in ice and promises to break me."
"Careful what you wish for, little omega."
"I'm not careful." She pushes back against me teasingly. "That's your job."
The bond hums between us—teasing, challenging, affectionate. This is what I never knew I wanted. Not just submission, but partnership. Not just claiming, but being claimed in return.
I grip her hips and thrust forward, beginning round four of what will likely be a very long heat cycle.
But for the first time in six centuries, I'm not counting the rounds. I'm savoring them.
Every single one.
CHAPTER 24
ELISE
DAYS 62-65
The heat breaks at dawn,and I wake to silence.
Not the usual quiet of early morning, but the profound stillness that comes when your body finally stops screaming for something it can't name. For days, every part of me has been burning with desperate need, every breath focused on the next claiming, the next knot, the next moment of completion.
Now there's nothing. Just the soft whisper of silk against my skin and the steady rhythm of Aratus's breathing beside me.
I lie perfectly still, afraid to move and break whatever spell has finally given me peace. Through the crystalline windows, morning light filters in shades of rose and gold, painting frost patterns across the walls. The sight should be beautiful, but all I can think is how clear my mind feels. How present I am in my own body for the first time in what feels like forever.
"How do you feel?" Aratus asks, his voice rough with sleep and caution.
I take inventory slowly, like someone checking for broken bones after a fall. My pussy is tender, thoroughly used, but the desperate emptiness is gone. My ass aches in ways that speak ofthorough claiming, but the need to be filled has quieted. My skin still carries frost patterns, but they pulse gently now instead of burning.
"Different," I say finally, testing my voice. It sounds like me again. Not the heat-drunk creature who's been begging and pleading for days, but the woman I remember being before biology took over. "Like I'm myself again."
But even as I say it, I know it's not quite true. I'm not the same woman who entered this heat. Something fundamental has shifted in ways I'm only beginning to understand.
"The bond is stronger," he observes, his hand finding mine under the silk sheets. "More stable. I can feel the difference."
I can too. The connection between us has settled from desperate clinging into something solid, like roots that have finally found purchase in good soil. It should comfort me, this stability. Instead, it makes me acutely aware of how much has changed.
"What day is it?" I ask, suddenly realizing I've lost track of time completely.
"Tuesday. You've been in heat for four days."
Four days. It feels like minutes and lifetimes all at once. Four days of losing myself in sensation, of existing only for the next touch, the next claiming. Four days where the world could have ended and I wouldn't have noticed.
"Has anything..." I trail off, not sure what I'm asking. Has anything happened? Has the world kept turning while I was lost in biological need?
Something flickers across his face—pain, maybe, or exhaustion I'm only now noticing. "Kieran died yesterday," he says quietly. "While you were... indisposed."
The words hit me like ice water. "What?"
"The illness finally took him. Yesterday afternoon." His voice is carefully controlled, but I can feel the grief underneaththrough our bond. "He went peacefully. Asked for you, actually, but I told him you couldn't come."
