Page 131 of Claimed In Darkness

And then his lips are on mine, fierce and desperate, his tongue tangling with mine, his breath mingling with mine, as if he’s trying to erase the distance between us, as if he’s trying to hold onto something that’s already slipping away.

“I’m coming!” I croak, my voice raw and tight.

“Come with me!” Zephiran moans against my breasts as he buries himself in between.

I feel the tension building, coiling tight in my belly, my pussy clenching around his cock, my breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps. And then I’m falling, shattering, my body convulsing around him, my nails digging into his skin, my voice crying out his name.

He follows me over the edge, his cock pulsing deep inside me, his voice rough, broken, as he whispers my name.

And for a fleeting, desperate moment, I let myself believe that this is enough. That we are enough.

But then the moment passes, and reality comes crashing back in. And I know, deep down, that this is the end. That no matter how I want this, no matter how much we fight, we can’t stop what’s coming.

We can’t stop the inevitable.

As I collapse against him, my body spent, my heart breaking, I know that this is the last moment for us.

When it’s over, when the sun rises and the world comes crashing down, I’ll be gone.

43

ZEPHIRAN

She is still asleep when I realize I love her.

That I always have.

And I have already lost her.

That there is nothing I can do to stop it.

The fire has burned low, the embers casting dull orange light across her skin.

She sleeps too still.

No tossing. No turning.

No shifting like she used to when she was human.

It pains me that she’s not anymore.

And I have been lying to myself, pretending I don’t fucking see it.

But I can’t deny it no longer. Her pulse barely flutters beneath her throat.

It’s in the way she didn’t hesitate when she stopped me from killing that High Council bastard.

It’s not because she wanted to spare him.

She has already taken their side.

She just hasn’t told me yet.

Even in sleep, she feels different. Not my Naira.

I reach for her.

My fingers trail down her arm, pressing against her skin, searching.

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