“You feel it, don’t you?” he whispered against my mouth. “The way my saliva makes you... sensitive.”
“I feel... everything.”
He shed his clothes, and when he settled between my legs, I was ready. I arched my hips, needing him.
He entered me in one smooth, deep thrust, and I cried out. The stretching was intense, but the friction... those soft flanges I’d only felt once before were relentless now, designed to grip and pleasure. He filled me completely.
“Carys,” he breathed, his voice wrecked.
He began to move, long, deep strokes that built a fire deep in my belly. The euphoric agent in his system, combined with the impossible friction of his anatomy, was pushing me toward a ledge I’d never known existed.
I was climbing, faster than I thought possible, my body tightening around him. He felt it, his rhythm becoming harder, more possessive.
“Brevan, I’m close?—”
“Not yet.” He growled, shifting his angle slightly. The broad head of his cock pressed against a nerve deep inside, and I screamed. “Now.”
He drove into me, his hands gripping my hips, and I felt the overwhelming, primal instinct to mark me, to make me his, surge from him. He pulled my head to the side, exposing my throat and shoulder. His fangs, sharp and hot, pressed against my skin.
“Now, Carys?” he asked, his voice a guttural command. “Forever?”
The world was exploding. I was coming apart at the seams. “Yes! Brevan, yes!”
He bit down.
The universe dissolved. It wasn’t pain. It was... everything. Pleasure and fire and a jolt of pure energy that went straight to my soul. I felt the sharp pierce of his fangs, followed by the hot rush of his saliva—his DNA, his life—flooding into me.
The bond snapped into place.
It wasn’t a sound. It was a feeling. A golden light exploding behind my eyes. I felt him. His relief. His fierce, protective love. His absolute, soul-deep possession. Mine.
The pleasure of the orgasm and the shock of the transformation collided. It was too much. My body convulsed around him, my vision tunneling.
I heard him whisper my name, felt his love pour through the new bond, and then the healing darkness claimed me.
BREVAN
Iheld my mate.
Carys was limp in my arms, her breathing deep and even, her body burning with the fever of the transformation. I felt the bond settle between us, a quiet, steady golden light in my chest. It wasn’t loud or intrusive; it was just... there. A new, permanent part of my soul that was connected to hers.
I carried her to the bunk, my movements careful. I laid her down and pulled the thin blanket over her, though the transformation fever would keep her warm. She was so pale, but her face was relaxed, free of the tension she’d carried since her capture.
I sat on the edge of the bed, unable to look away, and watched the miracle I had just invoked.
The skin around the bite mark on her shoulder shimmered. Faint, beautiful lines of gold—my gold—spread from the wound, branching across her collarbone like delicate frost. They weren’t glowing; they were just there, static, perfect lines of tracery embedding themselves in her skin. My mark. My claim.
Flinx leaped onto the bed, his optics a soft blue. He nudged Carys’s hand with his head, then looked up at me. A low, electronic purr rumbled in his chest.
He made a soft chirping sound that I’d learn the meaning of when Carys woke.
I reached out and ran a hand over his synthetic fur. “Watch the door. Protect her.”
Flinx hopped to the floor and took up a guard position by the door, his optics shifting to a vigilant red.
A soft chime echoed through the room. “Brevan. Briefing room. Now. Varrick found something.”
Rylos’s voice was as cold as ever.
