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A growl escapes him, and then his shadows wrap around my wrists, pulling them away and binding them above my head, pinning me to the bed. He reaches between us, wraps his hand around himself, and presses against me.

“Tell me you want this.” His voice is barely recognizable.

“I want you.” I don’t even have to think about it. “I want all of you.”

He pushes inside, stretching me, filling me, claiming me in a way nothing else ever has. The sensation hovers between pleasure and discomfort as my body adjusts to him, my nails digging into his back. He stills, forehead pressed to mine, barely holding himself together.

“Look at me, Mel’shira,” he whispers. “See me.”

I open my eyes to find him watching me, eyes fully black, features sharper, shadows swirling, control over his appearance gone.

I lift a hand, and press my palm to his cheek. Shadows reach out, wrapping around my fingers, and his head turns into the touch, lashes lowering against the sudden vulnerability in his expression .

Then he moves .

A roll of his hips, starting slow before giving way to something more urgent. A groan rumbles from him, deep and guttural. His control fractures as pleasure overtakes him, each movement drawing new sounds from me.

Our powers are no longer merely touching, they’re completely blended. His darkness flows through me, my light pours into him. The boundaries between us blur with each shared breath, each point of contact.

For a moment I feel what he feels, and the double stimulation is almost overwhelming, sending white-hot pleasure surging through me.

His fingers slip between us, finding my clit, rubbing, stroking just right . Pleasure spirals tighter, higher, until I can barely stand it.

“Stay with me.” His voice is strained.

When I break apart this time, it’s different. More complete. More devastating. Silver light explodes outward, not in delicate patterns but in a blinding flash. His shadows surge through me, covering the brightness, drawing it down until it’s nothing more than a subtle glow.

His name leaves my lips. My body unravels around him.

He follows me with a final, powerful thrust, and a shuddering groan as he buries himself deep, spilling into me, magic entwining, mingling, sealing something unspoken between us.

We collapse together, limbs tangled, breathing ragged, and in this moment, I understand the truth that’s been building since the tower.

I belong to this now. To him . To whatever we’re becoming together .

We lie in silence as our breathing steadies, bodies still humming from what we’ve done. But it’s more than that.

Silver and shadow still flow between us, moving in slow, lazy currents where our skin meets. The energy is quieter now, softened, but still there .

His fingers trace idle patterns along my arm, shadows skimming over my skin, silver answering with slow, pulsing light. I watch, mesmerized.

"What is this?" I ask finally, my voice barely above a whisper. His hand rests on my waist, and I see it again. The way our energies weave together, not blending but binding. "Between us. What’s happening?"

His gaze meets mine. The black has receded now, but they’re still different. Deeper, darker than usual. Shadows stir in his irises, shifting like restless tides, occasionally parting to reveal something else buried beneath.

"I don’t know," he admits. The honesty should unsettle me, but strangely, it doesn’t. It steadies me.

"That’s not very comforting." The corner of my mouth betrays me with a small, tremulous smile.

"Would you prefer a convenient lie?" One eyebrow lifts.

I shake my head.

" No. " I lift a hand, tracing the sharp line of his jaw, feeling the warmth of his skin, the way my silver rises when I touch him, as if answering a call only he can make. "I've had enough of those to last a lifetime."

His fingers close around mine, pulling my hand to his lips .

The moment his mouth brushes my skin, a ripple of power skates through me. Shadows curling upward, silver streaking toward them in a mesmerizing swirl. The reaction is slow, almost lazy. His lips part slightly against my palm, pressing a light kiss in the center.

I want to stay here. I want to stay in this moment where nothing else exists.

But then this head lifts, and the connection strains, and frays. The space between us suddenly feels colder, as though a tether has snapped.

"Whatever this is." His voice is rough, low, stripped of its usual guarded edges. The shadows around us seem to pulse with his heartbeat, reaching for my silver light even as his words push me away. "It can’t change what comes next. My ring. Your way home. We must continue as intended."

It feels like a door closing. A quiet, irreversible severing. The warmth of moments before cools, replaced by the familiar weight of purpose and plans. Of course he would pull away. He’s spent years working toward freedom and revenge. This … I was never part of that plan.

I swallow, the intimacy of our tangled limbs at odds with his words. Even now, after everything we've shared, he still holds himself apart.

Still thinks carefully about what he wants to share with me … and what he doesn’t.

For a moment, I can’t speak. Can’t breathe past the ache rising in my throat. But I can’t stay silent for long .

"What if my dream was a warning?" My voice is softer now, less certain.

The images from my dream fill my mind again—shadow consuming everything, silver light burning through darkness, screams breaking the world open.

"What if something goes wrong?"

His fingers find my face, brushing over my cheek with a tenderness that only twists the knife deeper.

"Then we adapt. As we have done since the tower."

It should be reassuring. Maybe it is . But the knot low in my stomach pulls tighter.

Something is coming. I can feel it breathing against my skin … Waiting.

Still, I nod, letting my head rest against his chest. His heartbeat is steady beneath my ear, strong and certain. As if he believes every word. As if this —the warmth between us, the pull neither of us can deny—changes nothing.

Maybe it doesn’t. Maybe it changes everything.

His shadows stir again, spreading over my back, slipping around my shoulders, curling over my legs, wrapping around us both like a living blanket.

A shield. A promise. A tether.

And yet, as my eyes close, as sleep begins to pull me under, I can’t shake the feeling curling low in my gut.

Tomorrow will change everything .

For him. For me .

For the fragile, impossible connection we’ve only just begun to understand.

The dream resurfaces with startling clarity. Shadow devouring everything in its path, silver slicing through it like lightning across a storm-wracked sky.

And I know, with bone-deep certainty, that whatever happens when the sun rises tomorrow, neither of us will emerge unchanged.