“Good.” His lips brushed the corner of my mouth, not quite a kiss, but close enough that we both trembled. “I hate myself more.”
For one heartbeat, the bond won. His mouth crashed down on mine. It wasn’t gentle. It was starving. Tongues and teeth and the raw, possessive need of two people the universe had decided belonged together. His hand slid between us, cupping me through my pants, pressing the heel of his palm against my clit while I moaned into his mouth.
I was right there again—standing at the cusp—when reality crashed back in. I wrenched my head sideways, breaking the kiss with a gasp.
“No.” My voice cracked. “I won’t be owned again. I won’t bebredfor anyone, not even you.”
Thyros froze.
For a long second, the only sound was our ragged breathing. Then he pulled back so fast his shoulders hit the opposite wall. His chest heaved. His hands shook at his sides. The look of devastation that flashed across his face cut deeper than any blade.
“I know,” his voice was raw with self-loathing. “I’m the last thing you should ever want. I was forged in fracture. I carry the darkness they couldn’t burn out. If I let this bond take you, I’ll drag you into the Abyss with me.”
The emergency lights flickered back to full, and seconds later, the guards reappeared. I shoved past Thyros without another word, shoulders squared, chin high, even though every step sent another pulse of aching need through my core, and the bond still screamed between us like a live wire.
They led me down a wide, softly lit corridor that felt more like a luxury cruiser than a warship. The guest quarters were simple but elegant, with clean lines, a wide viewport showing the curve of Earth below, a large bed, and a small sitting area. The door sealed behind me with a quiet click. I was alone.
For the first time since my capture, the tension in my shoulders eased a fraction.
I walked to the viewport and pressed my palm against the cool glass. Earth turned slowly beneath us, blue and white and heartbreakingly familiar. Every rebel briefing I’d ever sat through flashed through my mind. The rebels had taught me things the Order never wanted us to know. That humans hadn’t always been scattered across the stars. That they had once lived on a single world before the Sythari came harvesting. That ourGiftsweren’t random mutations but something older. Something that echoed the stories of Ashera and Caelor.
What Ella had said earlier… it matched too cleanly. The names. The fleeing pair. The sanctuary world. Making me wonder now if they weren't a myth at all. And if they weren't, if they were indeed a memory, what did that mean for our worlds? I listened deep inside me. And the more I thought, the more convinced I became that something in my blood remembered it, even if my mind was still catching up.
I exhaled shakily and dragged a hand through my braid, loosening it until dark strands fell around my shoulders. The pull in my chest—the one that had started the moment Thyros stepped into the holding block—hadn’t faded. If anything, beingaway from him made it sharper. Like an itch under the skin I couldn’t reach.
“Stop it,” I muttered to myself. “He’s an Arkhevari. A god who thinks he can own you with a look. You don’t need that kind of complication.”
But my body clearly disagreed.
I took my clothes off and headed for the washroom, desperate for anything that might clear my head. The door slid open to reveal a shower that looked more like a small temple than hygiene tech. Smooth black stone veined with glowing gold circuitry. A wide circular platform in the center.
When I stepped onto it, soft lights bloomed overhead, and the air warmed instantly.
“Manual or sensory?” a calm, synthetic voice asked.
“Sensory,” I replied, curious despite myself.
The floor rippled. Warm water—almost too warm—rose from hidden jets in a swirling mist that smelled faintly of citrus and ozone. It wasn’t just falling water; it moved like living silk, sliding over my skin, massaging tight muscles, finding every knot and bruise from the capture. Tiny glowing particles drifted in the mist, clinging to my body before dissolving into a tingling heat that sank straight into bone.
For one blessed moment, my mind quieted.
Then the bond slammed into me.
Thyros.
His face flashed behind my closed eyes—burning amber stare, golden skin, the way his aura had flared crimson and gold when he looked at me in the cell. The memory wasn’t mine. It was ours. The bond fed it to me in vivid, merciless detail: his large hands pinning my wrists above my head, his mouth on my throat, teeth scraping, the thick press of his cock against my entrance as he growled my name like a vow and a threat.
My nipples tightened instantly, almost painfully. Heat pooled low in my belly, slick and sudden, dripping down my inner thighs. I sucked in a sharp breath.
The mist thickened, turned oily, gliding over my breasts like a lover’s palms. The particles pulsed hotter, circling my nipples in slow, deliberate swirls. I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood.
No.
But the bond didn’t care. It pushed deeper. Another flash—me on my knees in front of him, his hand fisted in my hair, guiding my mouth down his cock while he watched with that same hungry, possessive stare. The phantom taste of him flooded my tongue. My pussy clenched hard around nothing.
A broken sound escaped me. My hand moved before I could stop it, sliding down my stomach, between my thighs. I was soaked, embarrassingly, shamefully wet. Two fingers brushed my clit, and my knees buckled. The shower caught me, the mist curled around my waist like arms holding me up while I stroked myself faster, chasing the pressure the bond demanded.
Thyros.
