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Her lips part, and my name escapes in a breathless moan.

“Alaric, please,” she whines, and the sound is nirvana.

“Tell me,” I demand, my voice like gravel. “I want to hear what I do to you. Tell me how I make you feel, Myrrin . Now.”

I pinch her clit gently. But firm enough to pull a gasp from her lips, then roll it between two fingers while I curl the others inside her.

My pinky teases the edge of her tight little ass, claws retracted. This touch is not about pain.

Not tonight.

Tonight is pleasure. Only pleasure.

I lower my mouth to her again, tongue working in tandem with my hands. She cries out louder, fists tangling in my hair as her thighs spread wider for me.

“Feels so good. You feel so good. Please, don’t stop,” she whimpers, raw and undone. Her voice shreds what’s left of my restraint.

“Call me your viyen ,” I growl against her thigh, the word thick with longing. “Here. Now. I want to hear you claim me like you did at the spring. Tell me I’m yours. I want to be yours.”

I suckle her clit, tongue fluttering with purpose, and she comes undone in my mouth— shaking, gasping, calling out.

“Yes, you’re mine, Alaric. My viyen. Fuck, like that—yes!”

Her head tips back, lips parted, flushed and radiant as she rides the high I give her.

That right there?

That is my favorite sight in all the realms. Jules, completely wrecked by my touch, with my name on her lips and my title bound to her breath.

When her spasms ease, and she returns to herself, her gaze finds mine.

She’s still trembling, still panting.

But her fingers cradle my face with exquisite tenderness.

“Alaric,” she whispers. “Viyen.”

My name, my role, my truth. Spoken in her voice, it becomes holy.

“Yes. Yours, Myrrin . And now,” I growl, rising to my feet in one smooth motion, “I take what’s mine.”

Her legs lock back around me, and with one thrust of my hips, I sink into her heat.

She’s soaked, welcoming, clinging to me like a lifeline.

We both gasp— one breath, one body.

With a flick of magic, the dining room vanishes, fading into mist.

The world bends and reshapes to our desire.

We land together on the bed, the silken sheets cool against fevered skin.

And then I move.

Each thrust is deep and deliberate, hips snapping forward as I brace one hand behind her head, the other gripping her hip to hold her steady.

She cries out with every drive of my cock, meeting me thrust for thrust, body writhing beneath mine.

Another push, another roll of our hips together— and I swear we scatter stars.

They burn in our blood. In her screams. In my roar.

We don’t just come— we ignite.

And as we fall, wrapped in magic and sweat and each other, I know one thing for certain.

There is no more illusion, no more deceit between us.

Whoever that bastard at the market was, he didn’t break us apart. He pushed us closer together.

Jules is my viyella.

And I am her viyen.

She lies bare beneath me, sated and breathless. Radiant in her honesty. Her lush curves bare and glistening with sweat.

She is irresistible.

Her breasts rise with each breath, nipples peaked, skin flushed.

“So beautiful,” I whisper. “By the stars, Jules, you are magnificent.”

I kiss down her neck, her collarbone, the valley between her breasts.

This time I will go slow. Take my time. Taste and adore every inch of her like only I will ever do.

Her hands fist in the sheets, her body arching for more.

And I give it.

I trail lower, over the soft curve of her belly, down to the wet, waiting heat between her thighs.

She gasps when I part her folds with my fingers, slick and eager for me.

I sink two fingers inside her, slow and deep, curling them just right—and gods, the way she writhes.

“More,” she begs, voice cracking. “ Viyen, please.”

I growl low in my throat. “Say it again.”

“ Viyen .”

I can’t get enough of hearing her say that.

Lust and love twist together, and I lose the last thread of my restraint.

I rise above her, letting her see all of me.

My scars, my power, the hunger in my eyes.

My cock is thick and ready, flushed dark with need.

She reaches for me, eyes wide with trust.

And I slide inside her in one smooth, deep thrust.

We cry out together, her walls gripping me tight, like her body knows mine, like we were made for this.

I rock into her slowly at first, each stroke dragging pleasure through both our bodies until she’s clawing at my back, whispering my name like a chant.

Her nails rake over my shoulders.

My rune-marked hands grip her hips, guiding her as we move together.

Not just fucking.

Claiming.

Her breath shatters.

Her body tenses, shivering on the edge.

“I’ve got you,” I promise. “Come for me, Viyella .”

She does— with a cry that echoes through the stone walls, her magic exploding with mine in a storm of silver fire.

I follow, roaring her name as I spill inside her, stars crashing behind my eyes.

I feel it. And I know she does. Our bond. Our zareth , tightening, almost burning in its intensity.

We collapse together, breathless, tangled in each other.

And when I feel the lingering heat pulse between our hearts again, steady and sure, I know the truth I’ve been avoiding.

This has never been part of a strategy.

This has always been about us. Jules and me. Bound forever.

And when I open my eyes, I’m astounded.

“Your—your hair,” I murmur, seeing her once dark locks laced now with the stars themselves.

And I know she is a blessing.