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Undid the laces with one hand, rough and impatient.

Shoved his trousers down just enough to get his cock free.

One stroke. Then another. He exhaled through clenched teeth, closing his eyes—and just like that, there she was. Taly. No more walls, no silence. Just bare skin and the weight of her body sliding over his.

She was built to ride a man straight into the afterlife: a slim waist, strong thighs, and tits that bounced like a prayer being answered. His blood pounded as she notched him into place. As she eased onto him, tight and slick.

He never got tired of it—of watching his cock disappear into her inch by inch. Of the way her eyelids always fluttered as she took a moment to savor. The little twitches of her inner walls. How she wriggled, finding her seat.

He could see it all. Almost feel it as she began to move.

He could hear the sounds she made—those breathless little gasps, the way she whimpered when she found just the right angle.

How she clenched around him like she couldn’t bear to let go.

And then—fuck.

She tilted her head. Offered her throat. He could see the pulse there.

It was no secret that Fey liked to bite their mates. But sharing blood, sharing aether—he’d never done it. Never trusted anyone enough.

Neverwantedanyone enough to wonder what their magic tasted like.

He jerked himself now, sharp and needy, matching the rhythm of her hips in the fantasy—grind, drag, clench.His breath came in gasps.

She tipped her head again—inviting. Exposed. Like she knew what he wanted and was daring him to take it.

And fuck it—he did.

He surged up in the fantasy, sank his teeth into her throat—and came.Hard. It tore through him, fast and brutal, like it always did with her.

He probably should’ve figured out what that meant back when the fantasy was Taly slipping into his bed in the middleof the night, straddling him without a word, and using him to chase sleep while he tried not to lose his fucking mind. He’d told himself it was normal. A natural response to an objectively beautiful girl sleeping right across the hall.

Fist clenched, hips jerking off the sand, heat spilled over his knuckles. Each wave hit softer than the last. Until he was still. Spent. Breathing hard, but too tired to care.

The waves crashed nearby. He didn’t move. Just let the stillness sink in.

Somewhere, his mother would be weeping. All that precious seed, wasted on the beach, instead of going into someoneapproved.

And definitely not into Taly. Which, let’s be honest, was the only place he actually wanted it.

A flicker of memory—her beneath him, thighs spread, skin slick, while he trickled out of her.

That was all it took. One stray, errant thought. His cock twitched in his hand like it hadn’t emptied itself a minute ago.

“Gah!” He flung himself to his feet, ripped off the rest of his clothes, dropping them in the sand as he stalked toward the water.

If he couldn’t fuck her out of his system, maybe hypothermia would do the trick.

He dove into the surf.

The ocean was freezing. Perfect.

The cold knifed through him, numbed everything that still ached. Skye stayed out there, watching the aurora lights shimmer over the water until the heat in his blood felt manageable.

The wind met him with a sharp slap as he emerged—bare, dripping, and unbothered. The moonlight painted his skinsilver, catching on the sharp angles of his body. Salt clung to him. His muscles were still tense, his jaw set, but he felt clearer. Not calm. Not fine. But something closer to himself again.

He should’ve known it wouldn’t last.