“I don’t want to go back.” I bite his lower lip hard enough to draw blood, and the taste of him on my tongue makes my Bloodfire roar. “I want to burn with you. Always with you.”
He makes a sound that’s half groan, half snarl, and then he walks me backward until my back hits a tree, the rough bark scraping through my shirt, grounding me in reality even as magic swirls around us in increasingly violent patterns. His hands are everywhere, tearing at my clothes with vampire speed, shredding fabric as if it’s paper, exposing skin to cool night air and scorching magic.
I return the favor, my Bloodfire-enhanced strength letting me rip through his shirt, buttons pinging off into the darkness as I bare the expanse of his chest. His skin is pale, unmarked now that Oracle and Hades finished healing him, perfect in a supernatural way that makes me want to mark it, claim it, make it mine in ways that go beyond any Heart Bind.
“Mine,” I hear myself growl, the word carrying that layered quality of the Voice of Lilith bleeding through.
Not commanding.
Stating an unmovable fact.
“Yours,” he agrees, and the surrender in his voice makes something primal surge inside me.
Our mouths crash together again, all teeth, tongues, and desperate need. His fangs descend, scraping my lower lip, and when I taste my own blood mixing with his, the magic between us explodes.
The ground beneath our feet cracks, fractures spreading out in jagged lines. The tree at my back groans, bark splitting as power surges through it, leaves withering and falling in acascade of dying green. The orbs of light multiply exponentially, filling the clearing until it’s as bright as day, crimson, gold, and black swirling together in patterns that hurt to look at directly.
Crave’s hands grip my thighs, lifting me effortlessly, and I wrap my legs around his waist as he pins me against the tree. The rough bark digs into my back, painful, grounding, and precisely what I need to keep from floating away on a tide of magic and sensation.
“Need… you!” I gasp against his mouth, my Bloodfire burning so hot now that small flames dance across my skin, licking at his hands where he touches me. They don’t hurt him. They never hurt him. Instead, they merge with his Apostate power, becoming something new, something that makes the shadows around us twist into shapes that shouldn’t exist.
“Need… you,” he echoes, and there’s desperation in his voice that mirrors my own. His hips rock against mine, and even through the layers of clothing still between us, I can feel him, hard and ready and exactly what I need.
He tears away the rest of my clothes with a feral efficiency, need given purpose. My skin is hypersensitive, every brush of air registers as a caress, every point where he touches me lighting up as a brand. When his fingers find the heat between my legs, I arch into the touch with a moan that echoes through the clearing, loud enough to startle birds from their roosts.
“So wet,” he growls, his fingers circling, teasing, driving me higher without giving me what I actually need. “So ready for me.”
“Then take me,” I demand, my hands working at his belt, fumbling with the button and zipper until I can finally get my hands on him. He’s hot silk over steel, pulsing against my palm, and when I stroke him, his hips buck involuntarily.
The ground shakes. A minor earthquake originating from where we stand.
“Fuck,” Crave hisses, his control fraying at the edges. “Sloane, we need to—”
“Now,” I interrupt, guiding him to where I need him most. “I need you inside me now.”
He doesn’t make me ask twice. He surges forward in one smooth thrust, filling me completely, and the sensation punches a cry from my throat that’s equal parts pleasure and power. My Bloodfire explodes outward in a wave of crimson-gold light that scorches the earth around us in a perfect circle. His Apostate magic responds instantly, shadows rising to meet my flames, vampire darkness, and witch fire merging into something that defies natural law.
The tree behind me groans louder, then splinters completely, the trunk snapping in half with a crack of thunder. We fall backward, but Crave twists mid-air with supernatural grace, landing on his back with me straddling his hips, never breaking our connection for even a moment.
Above us, the sky warps. Stars flicker and dim as our combined power reaches upward, pressing against the fabric of reality itself. Below us, the ground continues to crack and split, radiating outward from where our bodies connect.
I brace my hands on his chest and move, rolling my hips in a rhythm that makes us both groan. Each thrust sends new shockwaves of power rippling through the clearing. Trees bend and sway despite the lack of wind. The orbs of light multiply until they’re countless, filling the air, pulsing in time with our movements.
“More,” Crave demands, his hands gripping my hips hard enough to bruise if I were still fully human. “Give me everything, Sloane. Stop holding back.”
So I do.
I let my Bloodfire fully ignite, flames cascading over my skin until I’m burning from the inside out, glowing crimson-gold inthe darkness. His Apostate power rises to meet mine, shadows wrapping around us both, intimate and possessive.
We move together, faster, harder, chasing something that feels bigger than just physical pleasure. Every thrust drives us higher, sends more cracks spreading through the earth, and causes more destruction to the wilderness around us. A boulder nearby splits cleanly in half. More trees fall, unable to withstand the pressure of our combined magic pressing against reality.
My power spirals higher and higher, feeding on the pleasure, the love bleeding through our Heart Bind, and the absolute certainty that this is where I’m meant to be. His power matches mine pulse for pulse, vampire hunger and witch passion twisting together into something that makes the very air around us shimmer and warp.
“Crave,” I gasp, feeling the edge approaching, that moment where control shatters, and instinct takes over. “I can’t… I’m going to—”
“Let go,” he commands, his voice layered with that same resonance my Voice of Lilith carries, Apostate power making even simple words carry weight. “Come for me. Burn for me. Show me exactly what we are together.”
His thumb finds my clit, pressing and circling with devastating precision, and that’s all it takes. My orgasm crashes through me, ripping a scream from my throat that carries the Voice of Lilith whether I intend it or not. The command bleeds into him through our connection, and I feel the exact moment his control shatters, and with the roar of a predator, he follows me right over the edge.
