CHAPTER FOURTEEN #5
The bond wasn't just humming anymore; it was screaming. It was a physical weight in the water, a high-tension wire vibrating between our heartbeats.
"You're very quiet, Maddox," I murmured, my voice drifting over the mist. I glided through the water toward him, the ripples I created lapping against his broad, scarred chest. "Cat got your tongue?"
He let out a breath that was more of a ragged snarl. The shadows beneath the water's surface began to churn, dark ink swirling around his hips and tangling with the golden light of the pool.
"You keep looking at me like that," I said softly, "and I'll start thinking you actually want me."
He smirked, dark and sharp. "Darling, I do want you."
The way he said it—low, edged with hunger—lit a fire under my skin.
"You have no idea," he rasped, his voice sounding like it had been dragged over broken glass, "the kind of fire you're playing with, Ava."
"Then burn me," I challenged, stopping only inches away.
The heat radiating off him was more intense than the enchanted water. I could feel the thrum of his pulse in the air between us. Up close, the droplets of water clinging to his eyelashes looked like diamonds, and the scent of him—rain and dark, dangerous magic—was dizzying.
My bare chest brushed his—nipples hard, grazing against warm, solid muscle—and gods, the contact made my breath catch. His eyes dropped for a fraction of a second, his silver gaze darkening with a primal intent.
"I want answers," I said, barely able to focus.
"I want peace. But every time I'm near you… I can't think. I can't breathe. My mind's a mess, my emotions are—gods—they're everywhere."
I bit my lip, the bond snapping taut like a stretched wire. Asher's walls finally dropped. It hit me like a physical wave. Possession, control, a need so sharp it burned through every layer of my resolve. My whole body shuddered.
"This pull… it's unbearable," I whispered.
"I warned you," he murmured, his voice tight with a restraint that was visibly fraying.
His hand finally made contact, his fingers curling around the back of my neck with a possessiveness that made my toes curl in the silt of the pool. His thumb traced the line of my jaw, and the bond surged—a violent, beautiful collision of our magics.
For a heartbeat, the water around us glowed a brilliant, blinding white.
He leaned down, his lips a fraction of an inch from mine, his breath a scorched vow against my skin.
"Fuck it," he growled, the silver in his eyes disappearing into the black. "Your funeral, Princess."
And then he closed the distance.
His lips crashed into mine, and the world didn't just fade—it incinerated.
Gods. I whimpered, completely undone by the sheer, tectonic force of the kiss. It felt like he was claiming me, devouring me, needing every breath I had just to sustain his own.
My nails raked up his chest, dragging over wet, slick skin and the hard ridges of his muscle, desperate to anchor myself as the bond exploded in my veins like a wildfire hitting a gale.
He kissed me harder, one hand tangling deep in my damp hair to tilt my head back, the other gripping my waist so tightly I knew there would be bruises tomorrow. I didn't care. I wanted the marks. I wanted every jagged, beautiful piece of him.
When he finally pulled away, his chest heaving, his silver eyes searched mine—blazing, unguarded, and stripped of every mask he'd ever worn.
"Gods, Ava," he breathed, his voice wrecked and reverent. "You'll be the death of me."
My hands were raking down his back, and he groaned—a low, feral sound—as if my touch were a physical blow that shattered his remaining restraint. He lifted me with effortless power, my legs wrapping around his waist as if they'd been molded for him.
I could feel the hard, heavy length of him pressing against me through the water, and I gasped against his lips, my magic sparking in time with my pulse.
He walked us to the edge of the pool, the water sloshing rhythmically around our hips. The stone at my back was cool, a sharp contrast to the furnace burning within me.
"Darling," he growled, his voice rough and rasping against the sensitive skin of my neck. "You don't know what you're getting into."
I met his gaze, my vision swimming with molten silver and shadow. "I don't care."
He stilled—then he smiled like a god ready to ruin me for anyone else. In a flash, he dropped to his knees, pulling my legs over his shoulders. He looked up, his expression dangerous and wicked.
"Welcome to the dark side, Princess."
Before I could even draw a breath to respond, his mouth devoured me.
His head was between my legs, his fingers digging into my thighs to hold me steady.
His shadows weren't just watching anymore—they licked up my skin, coiling around my wrists and pulling them down to the stone, pinning me to his pleasure.
Gods help me, I screamed. The sensation was electrifying, a jagged bolt of lightning that traveled from my core to my skull.
"Oh, darling… you taste even better than I imagined," his voice slid into my mind, dark and velvet-smooth.
My breath hitched, my heart stopping for a fractional second.
He was in my head. The bond—the ancient, blood-soaked thread between us—had fully opened.
I felt everything now. It wasn't just his touch; it was his hunger.
It was the way his own mind was unraveling, the raw possession he felt, and the sheer, staggering weight of his need for me.
And yet—I wasn't drowning this time. For the first time, the fire didn't feel like it was consuming me. It felt like I was finally alive.
Power crackled beneath my skin, fire and shadow colliding in waves that mirrored the rhythm of his mouth. Our magic pulsed and twisted between us—wild, charged, and terrifyingly familiar. It was just like the tryouts, only this time, the pressure wasn't crushing me. I wasn't breaking.
Now, I was the one burning bright.
He moved with a predatory precision, alternating between a frantic pace and a torturous slow glide, savoring every hitch in my breath and every involuntary shudder of my hips.
His voice continued to pour through the bond, a low, sinful vibration that felt like it was originating from inside my own chest.
"You feel this too, don't you? The way we fit… the way we were made for this."
My fingers dug into the damp stone, my back arching until I felt the crackle of fire flaring just beneath my skin. "Gods," I gasped, my head lolling back. "Asher—"
He didn't stop. Our magic surged again, but the jagged edges were rounding off—we weren't fighting for dominance anymore; we were syncing.
He moved in one fluid motion, rising from his knees to stand and hauling me up with him. I wrapped my legs around his waist, the friction of our wet skin creating a static charge that made my hair stand on end. I could feel him now—hard, heavy, and pulsing against the center of my ache.
I looked down, and gods, the sight of him made my vision swim. He was slick and gleaming, and a low, needy moan escaped me at the sheer, visual proof of how much I affected him.
He chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating against my lips before his breath ghosted over them. The bond surged between us like molten lightning, thick with a shared, agonizing restraint.
"You sure?" he asked through the link, his mental voice husky and strained.
Lust, need, and a hunger that felt centuries old pulsed in the space between our heartbeats. I had never felt this powerful, this intoxicating. I leaned in, my lips brushing his ear as I sent a slow, deliberate whisper back into the bond.
"It's just sex, Maddox."
There was a pause—half a breath where the world seemed to stop spinning. Then his voice curved into my mind, a wicked, jagged promise. "Whatever you need, darling."
That was all the permission he required.
"Then don't stop," I whispered aloud.
He didn't. His mouth crashed back into mine, tongues tangling in a desperate battle for air while his hands hauled me flush against him. My back arched into the cool stone as he moved forward, his arousal pressing against me and sending a white-hot bolt of pleasure straight to my brain.
He growled into my mouth—a deep, primal sound of victory. I was gone. Floating. Burning. Ready to let him anchor me to the earth.
He adjusted his grip, his muscles corded and shaking with the effort of holding back, and he was just about to thrust in—
But then—
A sudden, violent jolt shot through the bond. It wasn't ours. It was external, a cold shock that felt like being plunged into ice water.
I froze. So did Asher.
Our chests heaved in the silence, our breaths coming in wrecked hitches, our magic still humming a frantic, frustrated red beneath our skin.
"Sorry to interrupt—but we just got news," Aether's voice broke through, sharp and urgent, shattering the private bubble of the grove.
Zya's mind joined instantly, her mental tone tighter and more clinical than I'd ever heard it. "Ryven is missing."
My heart didn't just skip; it stopped. The heat in my blood turned to lead in an instant.
Asher's eyes locked with mine. The silver fire was gone, replaced instantly by a cold, lethal obsidian. The soldier had replaced the lover in the blink of an eye. He didn't even have to say it.
"We need to move. Now."