I don't care.
I slide my hands up to his shoulders, digging my fingers into the calcified joints where his wings connect to his back. I can feel the rigid tension in the membrane, the way his body is fighting against the petrification.
I press harder.
Harder.
My tears mix with the sweat dripping onto his chest.
"Don't you fucking dare," I say, my voice breaking. "Don't you dare leave me like this."
I shift my weight again, repositioning my knees for better leverage. My thighs press against his sides, my hips grinding down slightly as I drive my full body weight into his shoulders.
The friction generates heat.
Intense, searing heat.
I can feel it radiating up through my palms, through my forearms, through my entire body.
I press my forehead against his chest, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
"Please," I whisper. "Please, Cyprian. Come back."
His heart hammers beneath my hands.
Erratic.
Desperate.
Alive.
I press harder.
And then I feel it.
A shift.
Subtle. Almost imperceptible.
But there.
The stone beneath my palms softens. Just slightly. Just enough.
I lift my head, my eyes locking onto his chest.
The crystalline amber veins flicker.
Once.
Twice.
And then they flare.
Bright.
Warm.
Gold.
