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I can’t move.

I'm not entirely sure I want to.

Warmth wraps around me, delicate yet all-consuming, like I’m nestled between silk sheets beneath a summer sun. A soft sigh slips from my lips, contentment keeping me suspended between awareness and sleep. Every nerve hums with lazy pleasure, my limbs heavy, relaxed, unwilling to leave the cocoon of heat and softness.

A low, familiar rumble reverberates through my body, blending seamlessly with my heartbeat, spreading from my chest down to my toes. Something deep and delicious coils in my belly, warmth becoming something hotter, sharper—more demanding.

Slowly, my awareness returns, drawing attention to a pleasant weight settled atop me, pressing deliciously against my skin. The sensation blooms, my breath quickens, and small gasps replace my sighs. The warmth builds, not lazily now but hungrily, as if it's devouring me from the inside out.

I gasp again, blinking open my eyes—right as a thousand pink stars pulse across the dark ceiling above, casting everything in a surreal, glowing haze.

And there he is.

Steo.

Hovering over me, glowing orange eyes locked onto mine, his expression somewhere between reverence and ruin. His cock, ridged and unreal, stretches me open in a slow, grinding stroke that pulls a moan from my throat.

“I attempted to rouse you, Snow Pea,” he rumbles, voice wrecked and breathless. “You would not wake… and I could not wait.”

His shadows flicker around us, coiled tight at my hips, my thighs, the base of his cock—vibrating with something like anticipation. I try to focus, to process what’s happening, but my body is already responding, hips tilting up to meet him, seeking more.

“Steo, your shadows… they’re back,” I gasp, voice cracking on a breathy laugh, “this is one hell of a wake-up call?—”

“I am famished,” he snarls, burying himself to the hilt with a rough thrust. “And your scent brought my shadows back. It is driving them feral.”

I whimper, slick gushing between my thighs, coating him. The wet sounds of our bodies meeting fill the air, obscene and delicious. My head spins as the shadows ripple across my skin, sliding downward to explore every inch of me.

Steo murmurs distractedly, “Foolish, defiant things...” His pace remains ruthless, yet his gaze drops down between us, curiosity suddenly overtaking him.

I follow his eyes, gasping at the sight—my thighs are glistening, soaked in my own slick. His cock, rigid and thick, is pumping relentlessly into me, spreading my pussy wide. It’s erotic and intoxicating. I’ve never been so wet, never felt so utterly claimed.

And then I see it.

His shadows, glowing a cheerful, impossible pink, have wrapped themselves tightly around the base of his cock—almost like they’ve developed a will of their own.

“What are they—” My question cuts off abruptly as the pink shadows twist and tease my nipples with deliberate precision, another coiling possessively around my clit, pulsing rhythmically.

Like a woman possessed I grab his throat, testing how far he’ll let me push him. His hips piston harder in response, his shadows pressing against every inch of me inside and out, overwhelming, relentless.

My climax builds like a rising storm. Pleasure explodes within me, white-hot and consuming. The veins in the tree above us burst into blinding pink supernovas, mirroring the intensity of our combined climax. My scream blends seamlessly with Steo’s roar, our bodies shuddering together in perfect synchronization.

Panting, I lie limp beneath him, basking in aftershocks as shadows glide gently over my overheated skin, satisfied—at least for now.

“You are exquisite,” Steo growls softly, hands still gently digging into my hips. His eyes glow fiercely, the hunger tempered but still present.

“You know,” I breathe out shakily, chuckling softly, “that’s not how you usually wake a human up, Bone man.”

He frowns, though the faintest smirk tugs at the corners of his lips. “Bone Daddy,” he corrects, shadows flickering in mild agitation. “Or Steo. Not ‘Bone man’. I am not a man. I am Death. Harbinger of?—”

I cut him off abruptly, sitting up and sliding his cock out of me, the embarrassing gush of fluids staining the makeshift bed. Before he can protest, I wrap my arms around his neck, pressing my lips against his in a teasing kiss, still testing that newfound control I seem to have over him.

He stiffens for a moment, then relaxes slightly, holding me in tentative confusion.

“Alright, hot stuff. Bone Daddy it is.”

Pulling away, I quickly become aware of how desperately human my current needs are.

“Oh my god,” I snort in sudden laughter, the absurdity of everything hitting me while staring down at the vivid pink puddle on the sheets. “Your cum is pink too!”

His eyes narrow. “God has nothing to do with this. That’s entirely you and you’d do well to remember it.”

I chuckle again, my cheeks heating with embarrassment. There are more things we need to discuss, more questions I need answered, more feelings I need to explore, but my more urgent needs reclaim my attention.

“…Steo?” I mumble, wincing. “I really need to pee.”

His head tilts. A slow, birdlike motion. Like he doesn’t understand.

After a beat, he lifts a hand and gestures toward the crude basin along the far wall—awkward, almost hesitant.

“I have been... constructing the burrow for your needs,” he says, voice rough, uncertain. “The basin was meant for... cleansing. I did not account for other mortal requirements.”

Of course he didn’t. Why would he? He’s not human. God, I doubt he even has to eat, let alone... pee.

I sigh, stumbling awkwardly across the room to dig beneath the small sink for something that could help my situation. Since it’s the only cabinet in this place, I’m hoping to find anything at all or else I’ll have to perch over the sink.

Thankfully, a bucket sits waiting, and without a shred of dignity left, I squat over it and relieve myself, letting out a long sigh of relief.

Steo watches, fascinated, his pink-tipped shadows hovering nearby like curious pets. It’s unsettling but oddly endearing, especially that I used to associate them to fear.

When I finish, my stomach lets out a monstrous growl.

Steo doesn’t ask. He just lifts me, carries me to the chair, and drops a paper bag on the table.

“Eat.”

My stomach instantly lets out another loud, desperate growl, as if agreeing wholeheartedly with Death himself.

The bag he passes me holds a gas station mystery haul—chips, licorice, soda, a single mustard packet. I tear through everything in minutes, downing a blue Gatorade and licking the mustard like it’s caviar. Steo watches, stone-faced, as if unsure if I’m dying or performing a ritual.

Did my shadow monster seriously go snack-shopping for me in the human realm?

My heart squeezes with something dangerously close to affection. Awww.

Two minutes flat, and everything’s gone.

My stomach promptly rumbles again.

“Your mortal frame requires further sustenance,” he declares, dead serious—as if announcing a war council. “I will fetch more.”

“Something with protein this time?” I call after him. “And maybe water?”

He vanishes without a word.

A chill rushes into the room the second Steo disappears, seeping into my bones, raising goosebumps along my skin. I’ve somehow grown accustomed to the warmth of his shadows in the short amount of time I’ve been here, and I’m not quite sure I’m ready to analyze why as exhaustion crashes down hard, tugging at my eyelids and weighing down every limb.

Another nap wouldn’t hurt, right? Maybe just until he returns. Then I’ll ask more questions.

Dragging myself toward the makeshift bed, I look around for my clothes to get dressed, but can’t spot them in the pink glow of the burrow. Did the shadows steal my clothes?

So I pick up the thin, scratchy blanket from the floor instead and wrap it around my shoulders, careful to avoid the puddle of embarrassing pink at the foot. I curl onto my side, closing my eyes, drifting in and out of a restless half-sleep as feverish heat wars with chills beneath my skin. Until?—

A deafening thud shakes the entire shelter.

I jolt upright. “Steo?” My voice sounds small, fragile, swallowed by the eerie stillness of the room. But he’s gone, his presence no longer filling the space with warmth and shadows. It feels empty. Hollow.

Another crash, louder this time, shakes the walls, vibrating the bed beneath me. My breath catches as the veins of pink light flicker and pulse rapidly around the room, agitated, frantic, like a warning siren.

“What the hell is happening?” I whisper, standing shakily, pulling the thin blanket tighter around my body. My eyes dart around the room, desperate for answers. But there's nothing. Just the oppressive silence and mounting dread.

Another impact, louder, closer, makes the entire shelter groan and sway beneath my feet. The sound reverberates through my bones, and suddenly, an unnatural warmth pools beneath my toes. I gasp, staring down.

The delicate veins of glowing pink that had been threading through the walls and ceiling now race toward me, gathering beneath my feet, climbing slowly up my ankles, then my calves. It’s a gentle, tingling sensation—soothing, warm, like stepping into a bath after being chilled to the bone.

But this heat doesn’t feel like Steo’s shadows. It doesn’t wrap around me—it comes from within, radiating outward from my very bones. It feels strangely… familiar. Like it’s always been a part of me, just waiting to be awakened.

Another thunderous crash, even closer now, jars me from my thoughts, sending panic rising sharply in my chest. The walls tremble, groaning under the strain.

Then—a faint voice, barely audible, drifts through the wooden barrier. I freeze.

I know that voice. I'd recognize it anywhere.

But that’s impossible. Not here. Not in the Evergloom.

“Hudson?” My whisper is barely a breath.

Another violent impact shatters my hesitation, shaking the shelter so forcefully it feels like the whole thing will collapse. Pink energy surges into me with increasing urgency, flooding my body, making my heart race and my skin buzz.

A loud crack echoes as wood splinters somewhere nearby. Pressure builds inside me, intense and burning, threatening to burst free. My vision blurs, overwhelmed by brilliant pink light, as panic claws its way up my throat, choking me silent.

I stumble back, disoriented, suffocating under the rising pressure, until suddenly twin orange flames cut sharply through the blinding pink glow.

“Parker!” A desperate roar rings through the chaos, just before the world around me erupts in a brilliant explosion of color and heat.