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“Your skin is darkening again.” Her analytical observation somehow makes this moment more intimate rather than less. “And your temperature…” Her free hand brushes my face, then traces the curve of my horn in a gesture that steals my breath.

“Blair.” Her name emerges as a growl as I catch her wrist. “You shouldn’t…”

“Shouldn’t what?” Her pulse races beneath my fingers. “Shouldn’t care? Shouldn’t want to understand?”

“Shouldn’t want this.” Despite my words, my tail tightens around her waist, drawing her closer. “Want me.”

The room is silent long enough for my ardor to turn to terror. Did I overstep? Misunderstand what every part of me was beginning to believe? That she wants me? Not as much as I want her, perhaps, but her tells, her hints… have I imagined all of it?

Finally, her gaze collides with mine as she lifts her chin defiantly to ask, “Why not?” Her fingers continue their maddening exploration, trailing from my horn to my jaw. “Because you look different? Because you have secrets?”

“Because… I’m a monster.” The words scrape out of my throat. “Adevil.”

“No!” The fierce certainty in her voice makes me look up. “You’re beautiful.”

The sincerity in her expression undoes me. With a sound that’s half-growl, half-surrender, I pull her tighter. Connection blooms between us, urging closer contact, deeper connection. What I feel transcends anything I’ve felt before.

The first brush of my lips against hers is gentle, questioning. She tastes like honey and herbs, a mix so uniquely her it makes me burn even hotter. Her fingers tangle in my hair, carefully avoiding my horns as though she’s memorized exactly where they curve from my skull. The delicate touch only inflames me further, especially when her fingertips graze the sensitive base where horn meets scalp.

When she sighs into the kiss, parting her lips, my control shatters. My wings curl around us both, creating a private world of shadow and sensation. The crystal lights filter through my wing membranes, casting her in a rosy glow that makes her look otherworldly.

Her quiet gasp as my tongue traces her lower lip sends fire racing through my veins. The sound she makes—somewhere between a whimper and a moan—nearly undoes me completely.

My tail tightens possessively around her waist as I deepen the kiss, drawing her fully against me until I can feel her heartbeat thundering in perfect counterpoint to my own. Her clever fingers find the sensitive junction where my wings meet my shoulders, and I can’t suppress the growl that rumbles up from deep in my chest.

“Dante,” she breathes my name against my lips, the single word carrying both wonder and desire. The sound of it ignites something primal within me, something I’ve kept carefully leashed until this moment.

My claws card through her unique hair, cradling her head as I angle her face to better claim her mouth. She responds with unexpected boldness, her tongue meeting mine in a dance that sends electric currents arcing through me. The crystal formations around us pulse with subtle light, responding to the energy crackling between us.

Her hands aren’t idle—they explore with scientific curiosity and unmistakable passion, mapping the texture of my skin where scales meet flesh, discovering places that make my breath catch and my tail curl tighter around her. When her fingers graze the base of my horns, I shudder visibly, my skin shifting to that iridescent shade I’ve never shown anyone else.

She doesn’t flinch from my inhuman features—not my sharp teeth that I try so carefully to gentle, not wings that must feel alien against her softness, not even my clawed hands that cradle her face like she’s something precious and breakable.

Instead, she presses closer, her body arching into mine with a trust that steals my breath. I find the sensitive spot at the nape of her neck, drawing circles with my thumb until she melts against me, her scientific detachment completely abandoned.

The kiss transforms into something deeper, rawer—a communion of souls as much as bodies. Through half-lidded eyes, I watch her expression, memorizing every flutter of her eyelashes, the exact shade of peach that colors her cheeks.

The world beyond my wings ceases to exist; there is only this moment, only her mouth moving perfectly against mine, only the soft sounds of pleasure that escape her when I do something that lights her on fire.

My fangs graze her lower lip, carefully controlled yet unmistakably present—a reminder of what I am, what we are to each other. Instead of fear, I feel her respond with a soft moan that vibrates against my mouth. Her hands clutch at my shoulders, nails digging in slightly as if afraid I might pull away.

“You’re trembling,” I murmur against her jaw, trailing kisses toward her ear.

“Scientific… observation,” she manages, her voice deliciously breathless. “Elevated neural responses to… unprecedented stimuli.”

I can’t contain the quiet laugh that escapes me, warmth blooming in my chest at this quintessentially Blair response. Even now, with her pulse racing and her body pressed against mine, she reaches for scientific terminology like an anchor.

“Would you like more data points, Dr. Andrews?” I tease, my voice low as I press a kiss to the sensitive spot just below her ear.

Her sharp intake of breath is answer enough, but she surprises me by capturing my face between her palms and bringing my mouth back to hers with newfound confidence. This kiss is different—deliberate, exploring, her scientific mind clearly cataloguing exactly what makes my skin shift colors and my wings tremble.

Time loses meaning. There’s only the silk of her hair against my palms, the sweet pressure of her mouth against mine, the way she trembles when my claws carefully scrape along her spine.

My injured wing aches from staying extended, but I barely notice the pain—not when she’s making those soft sounds of pleasure, not when she’s kissing me like she’s discovering something miraculous.

Finally, the need for air forces us apart. She looks dazed, her lips slightly swollen, her cheeks flushed. The sight makes something possessive clench in my chest.

“Your skin…” She touches my face with wondering fingers. “It’s iridescent. I’ve never seen that color before.”