Page 24

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RHAEGAR

S he’s still trembling in my arms when I kiss her.

I don’t mean to. It isn’t planned. It’s instinct—raw and involuntary, like a beast snapping at the only light in a long, cursed darkness. One second, I’m holding her, trying to stop her from unraveling. The next, my mouth finds hers, desperate to devour the terror bleeding from her soul before it tears her apart.

But it’s not just her fear anymore. It’s mine too.

She kisses me back with the same ferocity, as if we both know there’s no turning away from this edge we’ve been circling. Her fingers curl into the collar of my tunic, dragging me closer until we’re pressed together in the ruin’s heart, surrounded by shattered stone and spectral memories that scream of who she was—who she might still be.

Our magic flares—dangerous, volatile. Hers crackles along my skin like frostbite, while mine burns in molten pulses beneath the surface. We’ve barely touched, and already I can feel her slipping deeper into me, her essence threading through my bones like smoke through cracks.

But I don’t stop.

Because I need her. Not just her body or her touch. I need this to remind myself that she’s here , now. Not Medea. Not a ghost. Not a vision. Nora. The woman who defies me, challenges me, saves me without even knowing it.

We stumble together, blindly, into the chamber’s shadows. I press her against a cracked pillar, kissing her harder, rougher. She whimpers, it’s not because of pain, but from need—and the sound undoes something primal inside me. I growl low in my throat, and she shudders as I hoist her up with too much ease, her legs instinctively wrapping around my waist.

Her breath is fire against my neck. “Rhaegar…”

I kiss her throat, her shoulder, the corner of her jaw where I feel her pulse racing beneath fragile skin. She smells like fear and power, like arcing magic and wildfire.

I want her. Gods help me—I need her.

Clothing tears. Hands roam. Teeth graze.

We are not gentle.

This is not slow.

This is not tender.

It’s brutal. A storm of flesh and magic and buried grief. We crash together like tectonic plates, breaking open things inside me I didn’t know could still hurt. Her nails dig into my back as I press into her, and I feel her magic spasm violently through her skin—sparks bursting from her fingertips, carving lines of silver heat into my stone-flesh. And I don’t care. I want her to leave marks.

Her moan is the only music this cursed city has known in centuries.

I move inside her like I’ve been waiting a hundred lifetimes for this. Maybe I have. Maybe I’ll spend another hundred paying for it.

Her pussy clenches around my cock, hot and tight, as if her body is trying to claim me just as fiercely as I’m claiming her. Every thrust is a collision of need and desperation, her hips rising to meet mine, her breath hitching in time with the rhythm we’ve created. I can feel her magic pulsing around me, a wild, electric current that mirrors the way her walls grip me, pulling me deeper, urging me to take more.

“Rhaegar!” she moans, her eyes widening a fraction as pleasure explodes all over her.

The pleasure seeps into every cell of my stone flesh, shooting mind-numbing sensations straight to my brain.

Her magic is pouring into me with every movement, every breath, every arch of her spine beneath my hands. Her nails rake down my back, leaving trails of fire that mingle with the icy sparks of her magic. I can feel her merging with me, feeding me, sustaining me. Her essence is a flood, and I’m drowning in it, drunk on the taste of her power and the way her body yields to mine.

“Oh, Gods!” I roar as it overflows in me.

And I can’t stop it.

I should. I really should.

But I don’t.

Her legs tighten around my waist, her heels digging into the small of my back as she pulls me closer, deeper.

Her moans are ragged, desperate, and they echo through the ruins like a siren’s song. I kiss her throat, her collarbone, anywhere my mouth can reach, my teeth grazing her skin as I thrust harder, faster. She’s so wet, so ready, her pussy gripping my cock like she never wants to let go.

“Rhaegar—” she gasps, her voice breaking as her head falls back, exposing the delicate column of her throat. Her hands fist in my hair, tugging sharply, and I growl in response, the sound primal, feral.

“I’m coming, come with me!” I groan, my hips moving in short bursts but deeper as I chase that high with her.

The climax hits us like a detonation—white-hot and blinding, our magic fusing in a violent burst that shatters a portion of the ceiling overhead. Dust rains down around us, stone cracking, the entire ruin moaning like a dying beast.

Her pussy convulses around my cock, milking me as I come her, my release crashing through me like a tidal wave. My cum overflows out of her cunt, mingling with hers.

And still, neither of us pulls away. We cling to each other like wreckage, like we’re drowning together and neither of us cares. Her body trembles against mine, her breath coming in shallow gasps as I press my forehead to hers, our sweat-slicked skin sticking together.

Only when I feel her go limp against me, panting and too quiet, do I realize what I’ve done.

Her skin is pale.

Her essence hums inside my chest—louder than it ever has before.

I lower her to the ground gently, cradling her trembling body against mine. Her eyes are half-lidded, drowsy with exhaustion. Not from our bodies—but from her magic.

I took too much.

I fed on her magic like a beast. A curse meant to starve me, twisted into something worse. Something parasitic.

“Gods,” I breathe, brushing her hair back. “Nora?—”

She hums in response, curling into my side like a child seeking warmth. She doesn’t even realize it yet.

But I do.

I am stronger now—more whole than I’ve felt since the moment she awoke me.

But it wasn’t a gift. It was theft. Beautiful, necessary, monstrous theft.

I wrap my arms around her tighter, guilt gnawing at the edges of my elation.

She gave herself to me freely. I didn’t ask. I didn’t force her.

But I still took.

And the most dangerous part is, I know I’ll want to take again.

She is in me now. Permanent. Irrevocable.

And if I’m not careful… I will consume her completely.