Page 114 of Beneath the Desert Bloom
She just felt it.
The aftermath.
The realness.
The hum inside her.
Her mark at the base of her throat no longer burned. It glowed.
She reached up slowly, fingertips brushing the skin.
Raised. Etched. Not a wound.
A seal.
She sat up carefully.
The ache deepened with the shift. Her inner thighs screamed. Her breasts were sensitive. Her hips were sore. She could feel everything.
She glanced down at her legs.
Veins of light threaded her thighs. Faint. Subdermal. Glowing like minerals under blacklight. She touched one and shivered.
Asher hadn’t moved. His eyes remained fixed on her, full of a mix of awe and fear. Like he wasn’t sure if touching her would ground him or break the spell.
“You’re different,” he said again. The same words, but softer now. Full of reverence.
She nodded, his gaze so wide, so open that it made her heart stutter.
She turned slightly, drawn by the glint of light off water.
She crawled the last few feet to a shallow pool nestled in a cracked stone basin. The remnants of rainwater or ritual runoff, still and clear. She leaned over it.
Her reflection looked back.
Not wrong. But not hers.
Her hair was the same, though tangled and threaded with petals. Her lips were bitten raw, her skin still dusted with bloom and ash. But her eyes. Gold-ringed. Not just glowing. Alive.
Something inside her had risen to the surface.
And it wasn’t leaving.
She sat back on her heels.
“I feel…” she began, then trailed off.
There was no word for it.
Changed didn’t cover it. Reborn was too clean. She felt wild. Made of too many things. The light. The storm. The sex. The vow. The heat in her belly.
He sat up beside her. His hand hovered near her shoulder, then dropped.
“You’re glowing,” he said softly.
“So are you,” she murmured.
She reached for him.
