My thighs tighten around him instinctively, and he staggers forward, pressing me against the cool stone wall.
The contrast between the cold rock and his fiery warmth sends a shiver racing down my spine.
“Oh fuck,” I gasp and he growls again, his lips trailing down my jaw to my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. My head tilts back, a moan escaping me as his mouth finds the hollow of my throat.
I’ve never been this turned on in my life.
Wait—didn’t I say that before? Well, I mean it even more now. FUCK.
Every touch, every kiss, every possessive growl makes me burn hotter, my body arching into his as if begging for more.
In the back of my mind, I notice how quickly he’s learned to kiss—how perfectly he’s attuned to my reactions, how he seems to know exactly what I need, what I want.
But then something changes.
He freezes.
At first, I think he’s just catching his breath, but it’s just like before. When he had me quivering after giving me the best orgasm of my life. His entire body stiffens, his hands twitching against my skin.
“Rok?” I whisper, my eyes flying open.
He pulls back slightly, his head tilting as he inhales deeply. His nostrils flare, his glow pulsing brighter for a moment before dimming again.
And then he releases me.
Just like that.
I barely have time to catch myself before he staggers back, his hands flying to his head as he lets out a guttural snarl.
“Rok!” I cry, stumbling forward, but he holds up a hand, stopping me in my tracks.
His glow goes haywire, flickering and pulsing erratically beneath his skin. It doesn’t look natural—it’s chaotic, unstable, like a storm raging beneath the surface.
He falls to his knees, his body shaking violently. His claws rake against the stone floor, leaving deep gouges as his breaths come in harsh, ragged gasps.
“Rok, what’s happening?” I whisper, dropping to the floor beside him.
I reach out, my hand trembling, but the moment my fingers brush his arm, he flinches like he’s been hit by a truck, a sharp hiss escaping him.
My touch makes it worse.
I pull back, my heart pounding as I watch him, helpless and terrified.
And then…his glow changes.
It happens so suddenly, so drastically, that I fall back in shock.
The soft amber light beneath his skin darkens, shifting to something deeper, something…different. It looks like smoke, like shadows writhing under the surface, swirling and coiling in unnatural patterns until they consume him from within.
His skin has gone pitch black.
“Oh, shit,” I whisper, chest heaving.
His body convulses, his head tilting back as a guttural, animalistic growl tears from his throat. The darkness beneath his skin grows thicker, consuming him, and for a moment, I think he might explode.
And then—
Stars.
The darkness is suddenly filled with stars.
Tiny, glimmering points of light swirl beneath his skin, like entire galaxies trapped within the confines of his body.
It’s beautiful and terrifying all at once, like staring into the heart of the universe.
He collapses forward, catching himself on his hands, his head hanging low as his body trembles.
I scramble toward him, my fear overridden by the need to help him, to do something.
“Rok, talk to me.” I plead, intent on pressing my forehead to his so he can tell me what’s going on. Is he dying? He can’t be dying. My heart lurches at the thought, tears filling my eyes. I push them back.
He can’t be dying. Because I refuse it.
When my fingers brush his shoulder, he flinches again, but this time he doesn’t pull away.
Instead, he lifts his head, his glowing, star-filled eyes locking onto mine.
The look in his eyes…
I cannot explain it.
I see myself. All my dreams. All I’ve ever wanted.
And in that moment, I know.
Whatever’s happening to him, it’s because of me.
And there’s no going back.
Chapter 26
THIS SOFT CREATURE IS MINE
ROK
I am burning from the inside out.
The fire that began when she touched me, when I tasted her essence, has spread through every part of me until I am nothing but flame. My body has become alien to me—shifting, changing, reforming itself according to some ancient pattern I can’t begin to comprehend.
I collapse to the stone floor as waves of sensation crash over me. Pain, yes, but more than pain—awareness, heightened to a point that borders on agony. I can feel every current of air against my skin, hear the rapid beating of Jus-teen’s dra-kir, smell the fear and concern radiating from her like a dust cloud.
And beneath it all, something else. Something new. Something becoming.
“Rok, talk to me.” Her voice cuts through the storm raging within me.
I try to respond, try to push thoughts toward her, but my mind seems incapable. My vision blurs, darkens, then expands beyond anything I have ever experienced. I can see everything—the dust in the air, the subtle patterns in the stone, the aura of warmth surrounding her body.
When her fingers brush my shoulder, the contact sends a jolt through me that is both torture and relief. Her touch soothes the fire even as it feeds it? It’s a contradiction that makes no sense. But it feels utterly right.
I lift my head, struggling to focus on her face through the chaos of sensations. Her eyes widen as she looks at me, her lips parting in shock, and I realize something has changed—something fundamental.
I look down at my arms, at my chest, and freeze.
My skin…has transformed. Darkness flows beneath the surface, not the absence of light but something deeper, richer—like the dark sky above the dust plains. And within that darkness, stars. Countless stars, swirling and shifting like the great dance of the celestial bodies we use to track paths through the dust.
What is happening to me?
Justine’s hand reaches toward me again, tentative but determined, and when her fingers make contact with my skin, the stars beneath the surface surge toward her touch, clustering beneath the point of connection like they are drawn to her.
“What’s happening to you?” she whispers. “What can I do?”
I want to tell her to run. To flee. That I am dangerous in this state, unpredictable, a threat even to myself. But I cannot speak, cannot form the words, and even if I could, I know the truth—I need her. Need her presence, her touch, her essence to survive whatever transformation is consuming me.
The fire surges again and I cry out, a raw, animalistic sound that echoes through the chamber. Jus-teen flinches, her beautiful, water-like eyes going wide, but she doesn’t back away. Doesn’t retreat.
Instead, she moves closer.
“I’m here,” she says, her voice low but steady, resolved. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Time becomes fluid, elastic.
Moments stretch into what feels like solmarks, each beat of my dra-kir dragging out endlessly as the fire rages beneath my skin. Then, just as suddenly, time compresses, everything blurring together in flashes of sensation. Pain. Heat. Her voice.