Page 155 of Immortal Sun

He bends and presses his lips to mine. “What now?” he asks softly.

A grin slides over my face. “Maybe it’s your turn to run.”

I slide from beneath him, startling him enough that I push and he falls off balance, landing on his back.

“Oops, too late,” I say with a laugh. “I warned you…”

Moving faster than I ever have in my life, I leap onto his thighs with his engorged cock jutting just in front of me.

“My turn to play,” I whisper as I raise myself up and settle again over his weeping dick. Then I begin to gently move up and down.

His breathing hitches and his eyes flare brilliant white then darken again as he moans my name. Knowing that I’m doing this to him is the most powerful feeling in the world.

But time…still goes on.

Tick. Tock.

And as I ride him and lean over onto his chest, I see the flash of the sunrise as if an alarm is going off.

As he comes again.

I know.

It isn’t just the end.

It’s the end of us.

CHAPTER 38

CLEO

“Trust not him whose father, brother or other kin you have slain no matter how young he be, for often grows the wolf in the child.”– Volsunga Saga, ch.21

I’m exhausted. Between all the sex and emotional trauma, I don’t know how I’m even able to still stand.

The mood has already shifted. We went from celebrating…to the feeling of mourning.

Cyrus—Ra. Did not stay.

He left me.

I woke up just as he was leaving, as if he couldn’t bear to look at me last night after our last few moments together. His body was sated, his eyes nearly black. It seemed like the more we had sex the more he lost part of his light as if he was doing everything in his power to give it to me.

My eyes burned with tears. “You promise he’ll be safe?”

Cyrus laughed, but it was so fake, as if we weren’t connected anymore. He was doing it for me. Even though I knew he was detaching so it wouldn’t hurt me, it still did. After all, I am no immortal.

I’m only Cleo.

He swallowed, throat moving slowly. “Even now, you worry about him when you should be worried about yourself.” His stare was cold, distant, very purposeful in his way to make me want to hate him for taking parts of me when he knew in that moment I gave them willingly and would do it again and again even if it was him driving that knife through my heart in the end.

I would give.

For always…he’d be mine.

“Wait!” I called after him, then grabbed the parchment and the knife on the table. My hands shook so much that it was hard to even hold both items, I pricked my finger. Silver blood suddenly turned red and ran down my hand. Still shaking, I wrote my name across the final page in giant red letters.

Cleo Apet.

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