Page 80 of Gods of Prey
When his lips finally meet mine, it feels like worlds colliding. Life meeting Death. Beginning meeting end. His warmth against my cool skin creates steam that rises between us in the night air. His mouth tastes of whiskey and something sweeter—something uniquelyhim.
I sink into the kiss, centuries of animosity transforming into something else entirely. My hands find his chest, feeling his mortal heartbeat thundering beneath my palms. Every point of contact between us creates that same electric charge. Life energy meeting Death magic, creating something new in the space between.
This isn’t anything like his dreams. There’s no doubt he knows exactly what is happening here.
He pulls back just enough to look at me, his eyes filled with wonder. “I’ve imagined this so many times,” he confesses.
“Me too. I can’t maintain this form for long,” I warn him, even as I pull him closer, my fingers coiling around the wispy hair at his neckline.
“Then we shouldn’t waste time,” he murmurs against my neck. Strong arms wrap around my waist, guiding me on top of him as he leans back against the hard concrete so my wings can splay out behind my back.
His hands explore me with worship, tracing the constellations that shimmer across my skin. Warm palms cup my breasts, teasing my nipples a bit before they continue south and begin rubbing circles against the soft flesh of my center through my pants. I respond with the same enthusiasm, marveling at the heat of him, the solid reality that is so different from my usual existence. When clothing becomes a barrier, it dissolves at my touch—a trick of Death magic that makes him laugh in surprised delight.
We move together on the rooftop, hidden from mortal eyes by the veil between worlds that always surrounds me. Each touch is a revelation, each kiss a connection between realms that shouldn’t exist.
His body covers mine, strong and vital where I am ethereal and dark. The contrast between us is breathtaking—his golden skin against my midnight hues, his warmth against my cool touch. When he lines himself up with my center and we join completely, it’s like nothing I’ve experienced in all my long existence.
Life energy surges into me with each thrust, making my divine form glow brighter. I understand now—the allure of Aurelys. Now that I feel it within me. He’s larger than any male I’ve been with before, which leaves a small bite of pain every time he reaches the deepest parts of me. Or perhaps it’s just been too long since I’ve physically done this with anyone.
In return, the pleasure of my cool Death touch makes him gasp—not painful but intense, like standing at the edge of a precipice and choosing to fall.
Our time together in his dream scape was a diluted version of the passion we have now. A small taste that hardly prepared me for the pure ecstasy of this moment.
“Sienna,” he breathes against my skin, my name a prayer on his lips. “My goddess.”
Stars burst behind my eyes as we move together, faster and more desperate as my form begins to flicker. I’m losing my hold on corporality, the effort of maintaining it under such intensity becoming too much.
“Stay with me,” he pleads, sensing my struggle.
“I can’t,” I gasp, feeling myself beginning to fade. “Revel, I?—”
He captures my mouth in one last desperate kiss as we both tumble over the edge of euphoria, the pleasure crashing through us like a wave breaking against the shore. For one perfect moment, I am fully present—fully alive in my true form—before the magic gives way.
As the ecstasy subsides, my form shifts back to spectral blue-white, my body becoming translucent once more. His arms pass through me when he tries to hold me, and I see disappointment flash across his face before he masks it.
We lie there side by side—him solid, me ghostly—looking up at the stars.
“Do you regret it?” he asks finally, his breath forming clouds in the cool night air.
I consider lying. It would be easier. But something has changed between us, a shift as fundamental as Life and Death themselves.
“No,” I admit quietly. “But it complicates things.”
He laughs softly. “Everything about us is complicated.”
“This can’t happen again,” I insist, but my voice holds less conviction than ever before.
“Of course not.” He turns his head to look at me, a smile playing at his lips. “We hate each other, remember?”
I can’t help but smile back. “Absolutely.”
“And tomorrow, I’ll probably blame it on the whiskey.”
“As you should.”
His expression turns serious. “But we’ll both know the truth.”
I nod slowly, unable to deny it any longer. “We will.”
