Page 26

Night descends, bringing with it the anxious hush of our last hours in this makeshift sanctuary. I gather my meager belongings—a satchel of dried food, a waterskin. Korrin readies his own gear, which is little more than a small bag containing flint, extra bandages, and a few stolen jars of herbs. He’s as lightly burdened as I am. Survival out here demands minimalism.

By the time the moon rises, we’re sitting across from each other at the dying fire, the collar chain coiled between us like a serpent. My entire body feels wound tight, as if anticipating a final confrontation.Or a final goodbye.But Korrin and I are set to travel together; we’re not parting ways. The realization stirs a trembling feeling in my chest, part dread, part something else.

He breaks the silence first. “We leave at first light. We’ll keep off the main paths. Follow the ravines north until the foothills. It’ll be dangerous.”

A shiver runs down my spine. “I’m ready.”

His gaze flicks to the chain around my throat, then back to my eyes. An echo of that old guilt haunts his expression. “I can’tremove it yet,” he murmurs. “If we run into gargoyles, they’d know I freed you willingly.”

I press my lips into a thin line. “I understand,” I force out, though it hurts. “Just remember your promise.”

He inclines his head. “I do.”

Moments tick by, the fire crackling softly. The tension is thick as pitch. My heart thuds at the memory of how we once sought solace in each other, if only for a night. The knowledge that we might not see tomorrow’s sunset in one piece churns a reckless impulse inside me. Fear of the journey, fear of the dark elves, fear of Korrin’s kin—some chaotic swirl of all that fear draws me toward him, the same way it did that first time.

I catch him staring at me, gold eyes gleaming. It’s the same look he wore in that heated moment, the one that saidI can’t kill you, but I don’t know what to do with you either.My pulse kicks.

“Korrin…” I whisper, uncertain what I’m about to say.

He shifts closer, wings rustling. “Yes?”

A hundred emotions tangle on my tongue—gratitude, longing, resentment, terror. I can’t voice them. Instead, I slide my hand over the chain, grasping it like a lifeline. My gaze flicks to his face, seeking an unspoken answer.Should I push him away or draw him in?

He exhales shakily, as if reading my confusion. Then, moving with a predator’s grace, he leans forward, bracing a clawed hand on the stone floor beside me. Our faces hover inches apart. My throat constricts. My mind screams that this is dangerous, that trusting him again might break me. But an even deeper hunger roars back, fueled by the knowledge that tomorrow we plunge into the unknown.

Without conscious thought, I close the distance, pressing my lips to his in a kiss both desperate and defiant. It crackles with the same tension that’s been building all week—a friction thatneither of us can resist. My collar chain clinks against his chest as I rise onto my knees, ignoring the twinge in my ankle. He groans softly, arms sliding around my waist to pull me closer. The heat of his body seeps through my clothes, and I shudder at the memory of how intimately we fit before.

We break apart briefly, breath mingling in ragged gasps. The look in his eyes is equal parts caution and need. “Elyria,” he murmurs, voice low, “you want to do this?”

I nod, though tears prick the corners of my vision. “Yes,” I whisper. “I’m tired of being afraid of everything. Just… let me feel alive tonight.”

A flicker of anguished longing crosses his features. Then he kisses me again—this time slower, as if he’s trying to taste every second. My heart pounds, fear and desire tangling. The world outside fades, overshadowed by the press of his mouth, the careful sweep of his claws up my arms. I recall the violence he’s capable of, but here, his touch is deliberate, coaxing. I arch into him, an electric current skating over my skin.

He lifts me gently, carrying me to the bedding we’ve shared only in uneasy distance. The chain drags across the stone, an unwelcome reminder that I’m still bound, but I cling to him anyway, swallowing my resentment in the face of raw longing. We settle among the blankets, my palm pressed to the hard plane of his chest, feeling the thunder of his heartbeat.

In the flickering firelight, I catch glimpses of his inhuman features—the horns curving along his brow, the ridges of his powerful shoulders. Once, these details would have chilled my blood. Now, they spark a deep, breathless fascination. Perhaps it’s madness, or survival, or some new bond forged by shared danger, but I can’t deny the pull.

We undress cautiously, hands tangling. My chain tangles too, but he shifts it aside, brushing apologies across my skin each time it catches. My breath turns ragged as I let myselfbe vulnerable, letting him see me fully. The hush of the ruin envelops us, brightened only by the guttering fire. Our bodies align, and I release a trembling sigh when he leans in, pressing a hot kiss to my throat where the collar rests.

A swirl of conflicting emotion hits me: I hate this metal ring, but for now, I can’t escape it. I hate needing him, but right now, I crave the sense of security he offers, even if it’s fleeting. My fingers knot in his hair as I draw him closer, surrendering to the flicker of heat that consumes us both.

We come together with a shiver of both fear and longing. It’s different this time—less frantic, more laden with the knowledge of all that stands against us. My heart hammers as he rocks into me, his cock stretching me with a slow, deliberate pressure that borders on unbearable. I gasp, my nails biting into the scars along his back, my body arching to take him deeper. The fullness is overwhelming, a molten ache that blurs the line between pleasure and pain.

He stills for a breath, his forehead pressed to mine, his claws flexing against my hips. “Tell me,” he rasps, voice rough with restraint. “Tell me if it’s too much.”

I can’t answer, only drag him closer, my legs locking around his waist. The chain at my collar jingles as I shift, the sound a cruel counterpoint to the slick heat between us. He growls, low and approving, before rolling his hips in a long, torturous stroke. My pussy clenches around him instinctively, drawing a ragged groan from his throat.

“Korrin… fuck me,” I urge him to move faster, wanting him deep inside me. I want him so bad, it’s driving me to insanity.

Then he moves, and the world narrows to the friction of his cock inside me, the way my body yields and tightens with every thrust. He fucks me with a controlled hunger, each motion measured, as if he’s memorizing the way I pulse around him. The drag is exquisite, a building fire that coils tighter with everysnap of his hips. I’m panting, my fingers tangled in his hair, my cries muffled against his shoulder.

“Korrin!!!” I scream his name repeatedly, egging him on, and needing more.

“Elyria… you feel so good around me. I can’t stop…” he moans as he pulls out and slams into me. I feel the world narrow around me, keeing noise escaping my lips.

“Gods!” I gasp, my eyes rolling back as the sensations overload my brain.

The pleasure crests in waves, each one sharper than the last. His wings shudder behind him, half-spread in the firelight, casting jagged shadows across the ruins. I’ve never seen him like this—unraveled, his usually rigid control fraying at the edges. His claws prickle at my thighs, not enough to break skin but enough to remind me of what he is: dangerous, other, mine in this fractured moment.