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I woke to a body that felt shattered despite the taste of ripe blackberries and the sunlit forest on my tongue. Bastian’s blood. He must have just given it to me for me to still feel like I’d been hit by a Mack truck.

Every muscle screamed, every bone ached, while memories flashed through my mind in fragments: my untrained magic wreaking havoc in the Selenarium, Bastian’s chaotic transformations, my consorts’ fears unleashed, their memories revealed, my surrender required.

I peeled my eyelids open to find I was in my new bedroom—my mom’s old bedroom. I tried to sit up, but the world tilted, and nausea turned my stomach.

“Careful, Soph.” Bastian’s voice reached me from the shadows. “You’ve been out for nearly a day. Isador wouldn’t let us give you blood until you started to wake on your own. We’ve been taking turns watching over you.”

I turned my head carefully and found him by the moon altar in front of the arched window, deliberately keeping his distance. Moonlight outlined his silhouette. The tattoos visible beyond the reach of his T-shirt seemed different—more substantial, with faint golden threads running beneath the black ink. His muscles were coiled tight, ready to flee.

“The others?” My voice came out rough.

“Nearby.” His jaw tightened. Through our bond, I felt him wrestling with shame and fear. “I can get one of them, if you prefer. I wouldn’t blame you, not after…everything.”

I remembered with sickening clarity what had happened, how I flubbed the ritual and had forced my consorts’ greatest fears upon them. I had stripped away Bastian’s control over his shifter powers, forcing his body to change into something monstrous. The pain through our bond had been excruciating, his consciousness fracturing. I did that to him.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

Bastian laughed without humor. “ You’re sorry? I nearly tore you apart. If Javier hadn’t tackled me…” His amber eyes finally found mine. “I didn’t know that was inside me, Soph. I still don’t know what it was, but it wasn’t me .”

I sensed the war within him—the scholar wanting to understand, the predator fearing what he would become, and something deeper that had awakened in that ritual chamber. Something that had reveled in the chaos.

As Bastian spoke, I felt the immortal blood working through my body, restoring me. The ache in my muscles subsided, replaced by an awareness of Bastian’s presence and the bond thrumming between us, giving me a front-row seat to his self-loathing.

“Come here,” I said, patting the edge of the bed.

He hesitated, fear flashing across his features. “I shouldn’t.”

“Bas,” I said, gentler. “Please. I need you.”

His resistance crumbled, and he crossed the room with fluid grace. The mattress dipped as he perched on the edge, maintaining careful distance. He traced the line of a tattoo snaking onto the back of his hand with his index finger. A line I was almost certain hadn’t been there before.

“Talk to me,” I said. “Please don’t shut me out.”

Staring at the wall, he was quiet for so long I thought he might not answer. His jaw worked, and his eyes held a storm of emotions.

“What happened in the ritual chamber…” His voice roughened. “That wasn’t just a normal shift gone wrong. That was something else.” His eyes met mine, fear laid bare. “Something that shouldn’t exist.”

I reached for his hand, but he pulled back, out of reach. “Don’t, Soph. Please. I’m not sure I can control it if you touch me right now.”

The admission hit me hard, sending fissures through my heart. “What if you don’t have to control it?” I asked softly.

His head snapped up. “Soph—”

“What if what happened wasn’t a mistake?” I continued, sitting up despite the lingering weakness. “What if it was a revelation?”

“A revelation ?” Disbelief tainted his voice. “That I’m a monster ?”

“That you’re more than you thought,” I corrected, extending my hand. “Show me,” I whispered. When he shook his head, inching away, I pressed further. “Don’t pull away, Bas, please. Please . I need you. All of you.” I took a deep breath, rethinking my next words about a thousand times. “Show me what’s inside you. Let’s face it together.”

Gold sparked in his eyes even as fear clouded his expression. Through our bond, I felt the wild energy responding to my invitation—not just shifter magic but something deeper. Older. Untamed.

“I don’t know what will happen,” Bastian admitted. “If I let it out, I don’t think I can control myself like I can with my normal shifts.”

“Then don’t,” I said simply. “I trust you. Even that part of you.” I tugged the oversized shirt someone had dressed me in for sleep over my head, tossing it to the far side of the bed. The cool air kissed my flesh, tightening my nipples to stiff peaks, and moonlight stained my skin silver.

Bastian stared, transfixed. His breath quickened, his pupils dilating until only a thin ring of amber remained. Another flash of gold. A shiver within his pupil, threatening to split. “Sophie,” he breathed, my name a warning and a prayer.

“I want this,” I told him, bringing his hand to my breast. “I want you, Bas. All of you.” His thumb swept across my nipple, like he just couldn’t resist, and his touch sent sparks dancing along nerve endings and heat pooling low in my belly. “Let me see you too,” I whispered, tugging up the hem of his T-shirt.

He remained tense as I stood on my knees to pull the shirt up over his head. His tattoos shimmered golden in the moonlight.

“You’re so beautiful,” I told him, tracing the lines across his chest. When my fingers trailed over black ink, gold rose to the surface, an inner glow attracted by my touch.

His control broke on a groan. He gripped me by the hips and pulled me closer, dragging me onto his lap so my legs straddled him. His mouth found mine, his teeth grazing my lower lip, drawing blood, and I gasped at the wild, unrestrained response after such hesitancy. He gripped my ass, his fingers sinking in almost painfully. Possessively. Hungrily.

I gripped his hair at the nape of his neck and pulled his head back, breaking our kiss.

A sound rumbled from his chest—not quite human, not quite animal. His amber eyes flickered gold again as he fought against his nature.

“I’m not afraid,” I promised, my stare locked with his. “Stop holding back, Bas. Please.”

Something shifted in his expression. His form blurred slightly, not the violent shift from before, but something controlled. His eyes changed first, amber bleeding to rich gold, with pupils narrowing to feline slits before splitting, forming what looked like infinity signs in his eyes. His bone structure sharpened, his canines lengthened into vicious fangs.

“Like this?” he asked, vulnerable despite his inhuman appearance and deeper voice.

I nodded, my throat dry with wanting. “Yes,” I rasped, unconsciously rubbing myself against him. “Just like that.”

His transformed hands found my waist, the whisper of claws against my skin teasing the possibility of violence as he shifted our positions on the bed, laying me on my back. Seeing his partially shifted form hovering over me sent liquid desire pulsing between my thighs.

His mouth traced down my neck, teeth grazing where my pulse hammered, then moving lower. His tongue flicked over my nipple. The unexpectedly rough texture making me arch, a cry escaping my lips.

“Gods, Soph,” he growled. “The things I want to do to you…”

“Then do them,” I urged, my fingers tangling in his hair, now longer and wilder. “ Please .”

His mouth traveled lower, leaving a blazing trail across my abdomen. His hands parted my thighs with deliberate gentleness, the bite of his claws a tease rather than an attack. When he settled his shoulders between my legs, golden eyes gazing up with naked hunger, I thought I might combust.

The first touch of his tongue through the thin cotton of my underwear tore a sound from my throat I barely recognized. In this form, the texture was different—rougher and possibly ribbed, perfectly suited to drawing pleasure. His clawed hands held my thighs apart as he teased me with devastating precision, soaking my underwear with a combination of his saliva and my arousal.

“Bastian,” I moaned, my hips rising to meet each stroke of his tongue. “Please, I need—”

With a dark chuckle, he hooked my underwear with a claw and tore the fabric, baring me to him. His pleased rumble sent shivers cascading over me. The first stroke of his altered tongue made me tremble. The sensations were so intense, so different from anything else I’d experienced. Rough against my soft. Ridged against my swollen.

He growled against me, the vibration sending shockwaves through me. His tongue circled my clit before he wrapped his lips around me and sucked none too gently, flicking the tip of that rougher tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves. The combination of sensations sent me over the edge. My release crashed through me in waves, my body arching as pleasure radiated outward from my core.

Before I could recover, he moved higher, pushing his pants down and positioning himself between my thighs. The head of his cock pressed into my swollen heat, and he fucked my slit, dragging his shaft back and forth over my clit, letting me know his tongue wasn’t the only thing ribbed in this form. Making me desperate to have him inside me.

“Show me, Bas,” I groaned, my nails digging into his back. The texture of his skin had changed, becoming somehow both smoother and bumpier. Scales, I realized. Another layer of his mask removed. “Show me all of you.”

“Like this?” He changed the angle of his hips and pushed inside me, making us both groan. The stretch was delicious, overwhelming, perfect. The ridges added an extra layer of sensation as he pulled out and pushed back in, going deeper with each thrust. “Is this enough of me?”

I touched his face, tracing the sharper angles. “Mmmm…no,” I moaned. “All of you, Bas. Oh my fucking god, let me see all of you.” I lifted my hips to meet his thrusts. “Let me fucking see you.”

His control slipped further. Curved horns like burning metal sprouted from his curls, and wings erupted from his back, black as midnight, each feather dusted with gold around the edges. The muscles beneath my hands grew more powerful as he surrendered to what lived within him. His thrusts became deeper, more primal, forcing sounds from my throat I hadn’t known I could make.

“Mine,” he growled. “You’re mine .”

“Yes,” I gasped, my fingers gripping the top edge of his wings, where they sprouted from his back. They flared out before curving over me like a sheltering cocoon. “Yours. Always yours.”

His rhythm faltered. He lowered his head, grazing his teeth along my neck, and the teasing threat of pain catapulted me into another climax, more powerful than the first. My inner muscles clenched around him, drawing his own release with a roar.

Wave after wave of pleasure washed through me, carrying me away into an ocean of ecstasy. As I floated back to reality and my awareness returned, I found Bastian still above me, his form gradually shifting back to normal though his eyes remained gold.

“I didn’t hurt you?” he asked, his voice rough with emotion.

I laughed out loud. “Ah, no. Unless you count my sanity, because apparently, I like to fuck around with monsters.”

Bastian relaxed visibly, his familiar, cocky grin sliding into place. “Sophie, Sophie, Sophie,” he practically purred. “You come every time a vampire sinks his fangs into you.” He traced his own elongated canines along my jawline, and I shuddered out my next exhale. “We already know you like to fuck around with monsters.”

I laughed again, low and throaty, running my fingers through his tousled curls. “I like the horns,” I admitted, dragging my nails over the part of his scalp where they had been.

“Somebody watched Beauty and the Beast a lot as a kid, didn’t she?” he teased, nuzzling my neck.

I snorted a laugh. “I can neither confirm nor deny that,” I said, despite it being one hundred percent true.

Chuckling, Bastian stretched out beside me, blunted claws drawing sigils lightly on my abdomen. “I lied earlier,” he confessed. “I think I knew it was inside me, this beast , especially after my mom… Like it was just waiting for the right moment to break free.”

“How old were you?” I asked softly, curling toward him to lay my head on his shoulder. “When she…”

His heart beat steadily, marking time as he gathered the courage to respond. “I was seven when her shift went wrong,” he finally said, words carrying the weight of decades of silence. “It didn’t happen all at once. Each time she changed, she came back less her . More beast .” His voice caught. “Until one day, she didn’t come back at all.”

I held him tighter, my silent acknowledgment of such painful truths.

“Abomination,” he continued. “That’s what they call it when a shifter gets stuck between forms. Veris had her exiled to Atlantis.” His voice hardened. “ Exile —a pretty way to say execution by drowning. The city’s been underwater almost as long as the Houses have existed, and she didn’t have sea form, so…there’s no way she survived.”

“Was it the curse?” I asked, fearing the answer but needing to know. “Is that what caused her to lose herself? Did my people take your mom from you?”

He was quiet long enough that I lifted my head to see his face, his pained expression.

“No,” I said, sickened by the truth. “Bas, I—I’m so sorry, I—”

“It’s not your fault, Soph.” He pressed a kiss to my temple. “She could have stopped. Could’ve stayed in her human form, and she would’ve been fine.”

My brow furrowed. A shifter not shifting sounded about as healthy as a vampire not drinking blood, and having been the latter out of necessity for far too long, I knew firsthand that she wouldn’t have been fine. She would have been there for Bastian, but she would have lost herself in other ways.

“I’ve always been scared of ending up like her—of losing myself to the shift.” He skimmed his claws lightly over my back, sending goosebumps cascading over my skin. “But what happened in the ritual chamber, and just now… I think that was different. Something else.”

“How so?” I asked. In the Selenarium, he had seemed more wild, more at risk of losing himself, but maybe that had been my will pulling his fear to the surface. Maybe the beast that had come forth was this something else . Something that stepped in during the ritual, not to take him over but to protect him. Moments ago, when he had let the beast out to play, he certainly hadn’t lost himself. If anything, he had seemed more himself than ever.

“Letting go felt…right,” he said, echoing my thoughts. “Like finding myself.”

I frowned, tracing the curved line of a tattoo, watching the gold beneath the black rise to meet my touch. “Any idea what it means?”

“Not a fucking clue.”