"I thought you'd appreciate the facilities," Thorian says, and his voice wraps around me like warm honey. "Everything you'll need for your research is here."
He's dressed more casually today—still elegant, but in ways that highlight his massive frame rather than disguising it behind academic robes. Dark pants that hug powerful thighs, a shirt that does nothing to hide the breadth of his shoulders. When he moves, I catch glimpses of golden skin and the suggestion of strength that makes my mouth go dry.
"My research?" I manage, trying to focus on his words instead of the way his presence affects me.
"The fertility magic development we discussed. Your participation will generate data unlike anything we've collected before." He gestures to a series of charts covering one wall—complex diagrams that track magical energy patterns and biological responses. "You'll be documenting the entire process from the inside."
From the inside. The words send a shiver through me that I don't entirely understand.
"What exactly will that involve?"
"Daily sessions to monitor your adaptation to increasing magical exposure." Thorian moves to a workbench covered in instruments I don't recognize, his hands gentle as he arranges them with obvious familiarity. "We'll track changes in your physiology, your magical sensitivity, your body's response to fertility magic specifically."
The way he says "your body" makes heat pool low in my belly. There's something about his voice that affects me on levels I've never experienced before—like every word is designed specifically to make me want things I don't understand.
"How will you monitor those changes?"
"Careful observation. Physical readings. Some hands-on assessment of your magical development." His golden-green eyes meet mine across the laboratory, and I forget how to breathe properly. "Nothing invasive. Nothing you're not comfortable with."
Comfortable. The word is almost funny, considering I haven't felt truly comfortable since the moment I met him. Comfortable doesn't cover the way my skin tingles when he looks at me, or how my heart races when he steps close, or the strange ache that builds between my legs whenever he says my name.
"Let's begin with a baseline reading," he suggests, moving to what looks like a more elaborate version of the magical reader from the ceremony. "I need to understand your current magical sensitivity before we start the development work."
I nod and move toward the device, trying to project more confidence than I feel. The magical reading yesterday left me feeling raw and exposed in ways I'm still processing. The thought of going through something similar while alone with Thorian makes my pulse jump.
"Just relax," he says, positioning himself directly behind me. "This will be much gentler than yesterday's assessment."
Gentler. The word shouldn't make me disappointed, but it does.
His hands hover just above my shoulders, not quite touching but close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from his skin. When the magic starts flowing, it's like being wrapped in warm silk instead of yesterday's overwhelming intensity.
"Perfect," he murmurs, and his voice is rougher now, closer to my ear than strictly necessary. "You're already adapting beautifully to the magical environment."
The praise hits me like a drug. After years of being overlooked, dismissed, treated like I don't matter, having someone as powerful as Thorian tell me I'm perfect makes me want to do anything to hear it again.
"What does that mean, exactly? Adapting?"
"Your natural magical channels are opening more readily than expected. Most humans require weeks of gradual exposure before they can process fertility magic directly." His hands move slightly, still not touching but following the lines of power that flow between us. "You're responding like someone born to it."
Born to it. Like I was meant for this, meant to be here with him instead of struggling in anonymity back home.
The reading continues for what feels like forever and no time at all. Thorian's presence behind me becomes the most important thing in the world—his scent, his warmth, the careful way he guides the magic through my body without ever quite making contact.
"Extraordinary," he says finally, stepping back. The loss of his proximity leaves me feeling strangely cold. "Your compatibility readings were impressive, but this surpasses all projections."
I turn to face him, and there's something in his expression that makes my stomach flutter. Hunger, carefully controlled but unmistakable.
"Is that good?"
"Very good." He moves to record readings on charts that track more variables than I can process. "It means the development work will progress faster than anticipated. You'll be able to handle more intensive magical exposure sooner."
More intensive. The words make me shiver with something that's definitely not fear.
"What will that feel like?"
Thorian pauses in his note-taking, golden eyes fixing on me with an intensity that makes my knees weak. "Overwhelming at first. The magic will change you on cellular levels, awakening parts of your biology that have been dormant your entire life. Some humans find the process... intense."
"Intense how?"
