Page 42 of Claimed In Darkness

42

NAIRA

T he area is silent now, the echoes of battle fading into the night. The air is overflowing with the stench of pine and blood, the remnants of a fight that changed everything.

Zephiran stands a few feet away, his back to me, his shoulders tense, his sword still gripped tightly in his hand. He hasn’t spoken since we left the clearing. Since I made my choice.

I want to explain. To tell him why I did it.

To make him understand that this isn’t about betrayal—it’s about survival. But the words stick in my throat, heavy and useless. He wouldn’t understand. He can’t.

Not when he still believes in me. Not when he still thinks there’s something left to save.

“Zephiran,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. It’s not an apology. Not an explanation.

Just his name, hanging between us like a thread stretched too thin.

He doesn’t turn. Doesn’t move. But I see the way his grip tightens on the hilt of his sword, the way his shoulders stiffen, as if he’s bracing himself for what comes next. And maybe that’s why I step closer. Even now, even after everything, I can’t stop myself from reaching for him.

My hand brushes his arm, and he flinches, a sharp, involuntary reaction that makes my chest ache.

But he doesn’t pull away. Doesn’t tell me to stop. So I let my fingers trail down his arm, over the curve of his elbow, until I’m gripping his wrist, turning him to face me.

His eyes are dark, unreadable, but there’s something there, something raw and broken, something that makes my breath catch in my throat.

“You don’t get to leave me,” he says, his voice low, rough, like the edge of a blade dragged across stone. “Not like this. Not without a fight.”

I don’t respond. Don’t move. But I feel the way my body reacts to his words, the way my pulse quickens, the way my breath hitches in my chest.

Then his hands are on me, gripping my shoulders, pulling me closer, until there’s no gap between us. Until I can feel the heat of his body, the steady beat of his heart, the way his breath mingles with mine.

“Zephiran,” I whisper again as if it’s the last time. But he doesn’t let me finish.

Instead, his lips crash into mine, fierce and desperate, as if he’s trying to erase the distance between us, as if he’s trying to hold onto something that’s already slipping away.

I kiss him back because I’m a coward. Because I want to pretend, just for a moment, that this isn’t the end. That I’m not already gone. That we still have time.

His hands slide down my back, pulling me closer, his touch rough, urgent, as if he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he lets go. And maybe I will. Maybe I already have.

But right now, I let myself forget. Let myself feel. Let myself be the woman he still believes in, even if it’s only for a moment.

My fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss, until there’s nothing left but the two of us, the heat of his body, the taste of his lips, the way he makes me feel alive, even as I’m slipping away.

He breaks the kiss first, his forehead pressed against mine, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “Naira,” he murmurs, his voice rough, broken, like the sound of a man who’s already lost everything.

I don’t respond. Don’t tell him the truth. Instead, I kiss him again, slow, sweet, savoring the way he feels beneath my hands, the way he tastes, the way he makes me feel like I’m still human.

He backs me into the closest tree. Zephiran hands are everywhere, rough and desperate, as if he’s trying to memorize every inch of me before I’m gone.

His lips leave a trail of fire down my neck, his teeth grazing my skin, marking me as his, even as I slip further away. I arch into him, my fingers digging into his shoulders, my breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps.

I whimper as the bark of the tree dig against my back but I don’t care.

He doesn’t slow down. Instead, his hands slide down my body, gripping my hips, pulling me closer, until there’s no space left between us. Until I can feel the hard length of his cock pressing against me, hot and insistent, demanding my attention.

I reach for his pants, my fingers trembling as I fumble with the clasp. He doesn’t help me. Just watches me with those dark, unreadable eyes, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his body tense, coiled, like a spring about to snap.

Then the pants is off, the fabric of his pants pushed down, and he’s free, his cock hard and heavy in my hand.

I stroke him once, twice, feeling the way he shudders beneath my touch, the way his breath hitches in his chest.

“Oh, Naira!” he says my name as if I’m the only thing that matters. He trembles, every part of his body shaking.

Then I’m pushing him back, guiding him to the ground, the forest floor cool beneath us, the firelight casting flickering shadows across his skin.

“Let me do this,” I moan, licking his lips and trailing to his ears.

“Do it,” he moans. He doesn’t resist. Just lets me take control, his eyes never leaving mine, his hands gripping my hips like he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he lets go.

I straddle him, my clothes bunched around my waist, the cool air brushing against my bare skin. His hands slide up my thighs, rough and calloused, sending shivers down my spine.

And then I’m guiding his cock in my cunt, sinking down onto him slowly, inch by inch, until he’s buried deep, until I can feel him everywhere, filling me, stretching me, making me whole.

“Oh, Zephiran!” I gasp, savoring every sensation and feeling. God knows, I might never be able to feel this again. My nails rake on his chest, digging on his muscles.

“You’re killing me, Naira!” He groans, moving his hips to meet mine.

And then I’m moving, rocking against him, my body taking over, my mind shutting off. I want o lose myself in him. To forget, even if it’s only for a moment.

His hands slide up my body, and they find my nipples. He flicks them, and roll one nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

I let out another scream, “Fuck!”

And then his lips are on mine, fierce and desperate, his tongue tangling with mine, his breath mingling with mine, as if he’s trying to erase the distance between us, as if he’s trying to hold onto something that’s already slipping away.

“I’m coming!” I croak, my voice raw and tight.

“Come with me!” Zephiran moans against my breasts as he buries himself in between.

I feel the tension building, coiling tight in my belly, my pussy clenching around his cock, my breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps. And then I’m falling, shattering, my body convulsing around him, my nails digging into his skin, my voice crying out his name.

He follows me over the edge, his cock pulsing deep inside me, his voice rough, broken, as he whispers my name.

And for a fleeting, desperate moment, I let myself believe that this is enough. That we are enough.

But then the moment passes, and reality comes crashing back in. And I know, deep down, that this is the end. That no matter how I want this, no matter how much we fight, we can’t stop what’s coming.

We can’t stop the inevitable.

As I collapse against him, my body spent, my heart breaking, I know that this is the last moment for us.

When it’s over, when the sun rises and the world comes crashing down, I’ll be gone.