Page 25

We kiss until air becomes a secondary need, until the flickering fire almost dies for lack of attention.

Our bodies align, my claws pressed lightly to her back, her hand snaking beneath my wrap to feel the curve of my side.

Every brush of skin sends molten sparks through my veins.

The gargoyle side of me—predatory, dominant—surges in my chest. Yet something deeper, gentler, tries to tether that ferocity, mindful of her recent wounds.

When we break apart, panting, her eyes shine with tears or desire—or both. “I don’t want to lose control,” she breathes, voice quivering. “After what happened with my magic?—”

I rest my forehead against hers, inhaling the faint floral note that envelops her. “Then let me ground you,” I murmur, runes still flaring with an unholy glow. “We can anchor each other.” Or plunge together into the chaos. I try not to recall Nerezza’s twisted journey. Sariah is not her.

She bites her lip, a shudder coursing through her. A flash of lightning illuminates the cavern, revealing the swirl of unspoken hunger in her gaze. “Just… promise me we won’t let this bond devour us.”

A pang resonates in my chest. “I promise.” My gargoyle instincts bristle with need, but I force them to yield. This moment must be more than mindless rutting. We’ve both lost so much. Gently, I guide her down, my wings folding around us, a dark canopy that wards off the storm’s furious light.

She exhales, tension uncoiling as she allows me closer.

The small flame sputters at our side, shadows dancing across stone.

Outside, the hail intensifies, hammering the earth, as if the planet itself roars its disapproval.

But in our cramped sanctuary, we forge a different tempest—one of heated skin, ragged breaths, and the trembling vulnerability that comes from defying fate.

With careful hands, I trace the curve of her body, mindful of the bandages on her shoulder.

She arches against me, each movement stirring the tether.

A faint glow emanates from our combined magic, lighting the cavern with a ghostly aura.

She moans softly, burying her face in the crook of my neck, lips brushing the runes at my collarbone.

“Sariah,” I whisper, losing myself in the feel of her breath.

My mind reels with conflicting emotions: protectiveness, lust, fear, longing.

I slip a clawed finger under the edge of her cloak, revealing more of her chilled skin.

She doesn’t protest—her trembling is from desire, not reluctance.

She meets my gaze, nodding once, giving silent permission that floods me with relief.

This is consent. This is need. This is the moment we choose to cling to life, no matter the cost.

In the hush, we shed what garments we can, though caution rules our movements.

Our injuries demand care, but urgency spurs us onward.

Each brush of skin electrifies my senses, her presence weaving with mine until I can hardly separate where my body ends and hers begins.

The tether pulses in time with our pounding hearts, forging a loop of shared sensation.

She gasps as my lips trail along her collarbone, and I fight the urge to lose all coherence.

“I need you,” she breathes, voice trembling with raw honesty. It’s not a plea of helplessness, but a confession of shared desperation.

My response is a husky growl, part agreement, part promise.

Our mouths collide again, tongues tangling.

The primal side of me demands to claim her, to brand her as mine, but I wrestle with it, refusing to let pure ferocity overshadow the fragile trust blossoming here.

Instead, I hold her in a protective embrace, letting my tail curl around her ankle, a gentle tether of its own.

Time blurs. We succumb to the storm raging inside us—an onslaught of touch, taste, whispered names.

Every movement is rough, almost feral, but underpinned by a silent vow not to inflict further harm.

She moans into my ear, nails raking across my shoulders.

I hiss at the exquisite sting, wings trembling.

The cavern resonates with our ragged breathing and the hiss of sleet outside. Our bond flares, fueling the intensity.

Midway through this fevered embrace, something shifts in the air.

A swirl of raw power floods the space, cresting like a wave.

My runes blaze, reflecting the synergy between us—a synergy we only glimpsed in training.

Sariah arches her spine, magic crackling around her fingertips, illuminating the stone with flickers of bluish light.

The mark on her wrist pulses, and I feel its rhythmic beat as if it’s my own heartbeat.

“Kaelith—” she gasps, eyes half-lidded, face contorted in rapture and awe.

She’s letting me sense her magic’s full potential: wild, untamed, lethal.

Yet in this moment, it melds with the earthen might coursing through my gargoyle veins.

The energies entangle, forging a current that leaps between our bodies with soft static pops.

I groan, every nerve electrified as her hips roll against mine, her wet heat grinding along the length of my cock. The sensation is maddening—like drowning in fire and lightning at once. My tail lashes, coiling tighter around her thigh, dragging her closer until there’s no space left between us.

“Gods—Kaelith—” Sariah gasps, her voice breaking as my hands grip her waist, lifting her just enough to angle her perfectly before slamming her back down. She takes me in deep, her tight walls fluttering around me, and I hiss through my teeth, my wings shuddering.

“Look at me,” I demand, voice rough as gravel. Her eyes snap open, hazy with pleasure but still holding mine. “You feel that? How fucking perfect you take me? I think you’re made for me to do this, Sariah. To experience this.”

She whimpers, nails biting into my shoulders as I thrust up into her, each movement sharp and desperate.

“Y-yes— gods, yes—” Her head falls back, long hair spilling like ink over her bare skin, and I seize the chance to scrape my fangs along her throat, not hard enough to break skin but enough to make her cry out.

“You taste like ambrosia. I swear, nothing can compare to your taste.” I lick her neck, holding my breath. It has been centuries since I last fel a woman’s body like this. Nothing can compare to Sariah’s warmth, though.

“Oh, what are you doing?” she gasps as I kiss her chest, trailing to her nipple. I such the circular tip softly, and rolling it in my mouth.

“Kaelith!” she screams, grabbing my hair as magic crackles between us, her power surging in time with each ragged breath.

The runes along my arms blaze hotter, matching the pulse of the mark on her wrist. I can feel her—every shudder, every clench of her pussy around me, the way her thighs tremble as I drive her toward the edge.

“Come on, Sariah,” I growl against her lips, my tail tightening possessively. “Let go. I want to feel you come on my dick. You have to get my cock so wet, so you can clean it up later.”

“Kaelith!” her eyes sparkle as he gazes at me. “Yes! Yes!”

Sariah sobs, her back arching as the first wave crashes over her. “Kaelith—ah!” Her climax rips through her, magic sparking like live wires between us, and I’m lost in the sensation—her pulsing around me, the way her body bows like a drawn arrow, the raw, shattered sound of my name on her lips.

“Yes, I’m coming, too!” I don’t last much longer. With a snarl, I flip her beneath me, pinning her to the stone floor as my thrusts turn erratic, brutal. “Mine At least tonight,” I rasp, my claws scoring the rock beside her head. “Say it.”

Her legs lock around my hips, pulling me deeper. “Yours,” she gasps, her voice wrecked. “Never felt this good?—”

The admission undoes me. My release slams into me like a storm surge, my wings flaring wide as I spill inside her, our magic detonating in a shockwave of light and heat. Sparks arc across our sweat-slicked skin, the cave trembling around us as the force of our union rattles the very earth.

For a heartbeat, I’m certain the ceiling will collapse—until the energy dissipates, leaving only the echo of our panting breaths and the distant howl of the wind.

Sariah’s fingers trace the curve of my horn, her touch featherlight. “That was…” She trails off, dazed.

“Insufficient?” I smirk, though my voice is still rough with spent desire.

She laughs breathlessly, swatting my chest. “A start.”

When the flare of lust and magic subsides, I find myself trembling, every muscle spent.

The bond pulses in the aftermath, heavy with new threads woven between us.

Sariah lies against me, her chest rising and falling in shallow gulps of air.

My heart races as if I’ve run a marathon, and the runes on my chest flicker like dying embers.

A hush wraps around us, broken only by distant thunder and the muted hiss of hail on the rock outside.

My mind grapples with the enormity of what just happened.

It wasn’t merely physical—our magic fused, tangling more intricately than ever.

A primal part of me rejoices at the closeness, while another part cowers, recalling how such bonds can lead to destruction if left unchecked.

Sariah shifts, wincing at her bandaged shoulder. I cradle her gently, careful not to aggravate her injuries. The rawness of my own body smarts, but I can’t bring myself to disengage. Her breath tickles my collarbone, the brand on her wrist pressed to my chest as if she’s unconsciously marking me.

A swirl of guilt, relief, and wonder tangles in my chest. “Sariah,” I whisper, voice thick. “What have we done?”

She lifts her gaze, cheeks flushed. Her lips part, a thousand emotions warring in her eyes—vulnerability, lingering passion, a flicker of alarm. “I… I don’t know,” she admits softly. “That was—” She falters, searching for words.