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“I’m not cuddling you,” I warned, already knowing where this was headed.

“I wouldn’t allow it,” he said, deadpan. But something in his eyes flickered—a heat that had nothing to do with the malfunctioning environmental systems.

Ten minutes later, I was definitely cuddling him.

It wasn’t like I had a choice. The heat pressed down like a weighted blanket soaked in lava. And he...well, he radiated cool calm like an enormous space AC unit, his body somehow maintaining a comfortable temperature despite the inferno around us. I justified every inch I scooted closer with science. Body heat regulation. Shared survival tactics. Shut up.

We lay side by side on the mat, his massive body dwarfing mine, careful inches of space between us that grew smaller with each passing minute. His breathing was measured, controlled, while mine came in shallow pants as I fought the dual discomfort of the heat and the proximity to him.

“Try to rest,” he rumbled, his voice vibrating through the small space between us. “Conserve energy.”

“Easy for you to say,” I muttered. “You’re not the one whose brain is being slow-cooked.”

His response was to shift slightly, one arm extending beneath my head like an offering. “Elevated position will improve circulation. It will help.”

I hesitated, pride warring with practicality. But the heat won out. I allowed myself to rest against his arm, my head pillowed on his bicep, which was approximately the size of a small tree trunk. The effect was immediate—blessed coolness radiating from his skin to mine.

“Oh,” I breathed, unable to stop myself from pressing closer. “That’s... better.”

A sound rumbled in his chest—not quite a growl, not quite a purr. His tail curled loosely around my ankle, the touch so light I might have imagined it.

“Sleep,” he commanded softly. “I will monitor the systems.”

But that night, sleep didn’t come easy.

Instead, vivid dreams wrapped around me like a net of silk and fire. Hands I recognized but shouldn’t. A mouth on my skin. My name in that gravel voice, turned reverent and hungry.

I was in a different place—still a desert, but beautiful rather than deadly. Golden dunes stretched to the horizon under a sky painted in impossible colors. And he was there, Rhaekar, but different—his full alien nature on display, magnificent and primal. The markings on his skin gleamed like burnished gold, his eyes fierce and hungry as they locked on mine.

“Kassari,” he called, the word unfamiliar yet instantly meaningful. “My fate mate.”

He stalked toward me with predatory grace, and instead of running, I moved to meet him. His hands found my waist, hotand possessive, lifting me effortlessly. My legs wrapped around him as if they’d always belonged there.

“This is a dream,” I murmured against his mouth.

“This is unity,” he corrected, his voice deeper, rougher. “The sharing of mates.”

His kiss devastated me—hot and demanding and perfect. I opened for him instantly, his tongue sliding against mine in a dance that felt like coming home. His taste was exotic and familiar all at once, sending sparks of pleasure cascading through my body.

We were suddenly on the ground, the sand beneath us impossibly soft. His weight pressed me down, delicious and commanding, as his mouth traveled from my lips to my jaw, my neck, my collarbone. Every touch ignited new fires beneath my skin.

“I need—” I gasped, arching as his sharp teeth grazed my pulse point.

“Tell me,” he growled, his hands sliding beneath my clothes, which seemed to melt away at his touch. “Tell me what you need, little flame.”

“You,” I breathed, shameless with desire. “Inside me. Now.”

He growled again, the sound vibrating through my bones. His claws extended, carefully shredding what remained of my clothing without scratching my skin. Then his mouth was on my breast, hot and wet, tongue circling my nipple before sucking hard enough to make me cry out.

“Fuck,” I moaned, threading my fingers through his hair, surprised to find it soft despite its wild appearance. “More, please?—”

He obliged, his mouth working magic on my sensitive flesh while his hand slid lower, across my stomach, between my thighs. When his fingers found my center, already slick with need, we both groaned.

“So wet for me,” he purred, his golden eyes meeting mine as he stroked through my folds. “So ready.”

“Yes,” I hissed, bucking against his hand. “Don’t tease me, Rhaekar.”

The sound of his name on my lips seemed to break something in him. With a fluid motion, he positioned himself between my thighs, the blunt head of his cock pressing against my entrance. He was huge, intimidatingly so, but my body welcomed him as if made for this—for him.