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“Is it dangerous?” Marisol’s voice was soft and her breath warm against Zuri’s mouth. She wasn’t worried anymore, she was teasing.

Only for me.

“I’m going for more of a controlled burn than a wildfire.” She smirked before kissing her, hands tangling in her hair.

“I don’t think this is the way to do it,” Marisol whispered between soft, slow kisses.

Remembering her desire not to exclude Elena, Zuri started to pull away before an idea sprang to life. “It wasn’t just being turned on,” she said after breaking the kiss but remaining in her arms. “Elena’s bite triggered your need to heal me.” Her thoughts were racing faster than her mouth moved. “Maybe your thoughts being occupied with desire… Maybe it let some natural instinct take over.”

“You think that’s possible?” Marisol looked equal parts hopeful and worried that it wouldn’t work.

“Let’s find out.” Zuri’s heart raced with hope. “Elena?—”

“Can I be of service?” Elena asked from the doorway, as if there was any doubt in Zuri’s mind that she’d been listening to every word they’d said.

Rolling her eyes, Zuri pulled off her T-shirt. “Bite?—”

In a blur, Elena was behind her, arms wrapped around her waist. When she bit into her, flooding her system and weakening her legs, Zuri lost her purpose.

The world dissolved into sensation. Elena’s fangs sank deep, sending a jolt of pure pleasure that reverberated through every atom in her body. Marisol’s lips were soft and insistent against hers, a counterpoint to the sharp, exquisite agony of Elena’s bite.

Fuck. It was too much. Too good. Zuri’s thoughts scattered, her focus fracturing under the onslaught. She arched her back against Elena and pulled Marisol closer.

In a haze of heat and need, of tangled limbs and ragged breaths, she was drowning in pleasure, unable to break free. And then, through the fog, a flicker of light. A whisper of energy.

Zuri forced her eyes open, her vision blurry, her senses overloaded. But she saw them. Through the shadowed embrace of Elena’s bite, Marisol’s wings unfurled, shimmering and translucent and nearly too big to fit in her kitchen. They were gorgeous.

“Holy shit,” Zuri gasped, the words a strangled whisper against Marisol’s lips.

Elena released her neck, letting the blood stream down Zuri’s chest instead of chasing it with her tongue. “Gods,” she whispered.

Marisol, oblivious to their observation, looked confused when Zuri broke the kiss. A soft hum emanated from her wings, a vibration that resonated deep inside Zuri’s soul. It was a healing energy, pure and potent. Zuri recognized her power charging the air. All untapped potential.

“Do your thing, Bambi.” Zuri cupped Marisol’s jaw before moving out from between them.

Eyes wide, her wings flickered like a lightbulb about to burn out. “I don’t know?—”

“Don’t think.” Zuri pulled her in, offering her the puncture wounds in her neck. “Just don’t think about it.”

Pressing her lips to the sore skin, Marisol’s kiss filled her with a warm rush. And then, as if doing her best to relax, Marisol turned towards Elena. Her wings spread wide were impossible to look away from.

The hum intensified, the air crackling with energy. Elena gasped, her body bathed in a warm, golden light. Zuri watched, breathless, as Marisol’s power flowed into Elena. Illuminated like this, Zuri saw the girl Elena had once been. The one who hadn’t lived lifetimes of disappointment and loss and grief. The girl of her first life.

Marisol moved down Elena’s body. Hand sliding down her back until she was on her knees at her feet. As if they’d communicated telepathically, Elena pulled up her T-shirt while Marisol yanked her underwear down to the top of her thigh. But the move was more loving than erotic.

When Marisol pressed her lips to Elena’s left hip, she set off a lightning strike in Elena’s body. Her wings flickered again, but this time they didn’t fade – they turned nearly corporeal.

Holding her breath, energy emanating from Marisol in exhilarating waves, Zuri didn’t let herself blink. Every press of Marisol’s lips sent another current of light visibly cracking under Elena’s skin. They were lashes up her chest, over her arms, across her belly, down her leg.

When the light faded, Marisol’s wings retracted, disappearing like mist in the morning air. Elena looked down at herself, posture straight, movements fluid, eyes glowing bright.

“I’m whole,” Elena whispered, gaze darting down to a kneeling Marisol.

Zuri’s first thought shouldn’t have been regret. A sense of loss for what they were about to leave behind.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Marisol hadn’t really neededa nap after healing Elena. It had left her exhilarated rather than depleted. But when Zuri insisted, she hadn’t argued. She’d even tried to sleep, but the realization that it would be her last time in Zuri’s bed—that her pillows at home would never smell like the three of them together—caused the lump in her throat to spread to her chest and made sleeping impossible.