It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
But then, her body jerks once. Twice. Then stills, and I know.
Her magic doesn’t crest.
Itdetonates.
Her body convulses, but not in pleasure.
The waves of her power that have always emanated outward suddenly reverse course, hammering into her body with a dark purple aura. Her veins pulse with light. Her back bows, every muscle straining as if pain itself is wringing her spine.
“Aurora,” I call, removing my hand from myself as panic takes place over release. She doesn’t hear me. She’s feeding on her own life force.
“Stay with me, Aura,” I demand. “Breathe.”
But she doesn’t respond. Her eyes roll back.
Shit. Shit. Fuck.
“Aurora,” I shout again, louder this time,desperate.
Her lips part in a silent scream. Her glow turns violent. Wild. Her body jolts, violent and raw, every movement a silent rupture.
My chest crumples under the impact, air gone in a blink.
I don’t think—I move.
Surging forward, I scoop her up, sheets and all, then sprint for the shower. Terror rises in my lungs, even as I step in the tub. Still holding her in the bunched-up covers, I flip on the cold water like she’s been doing recently.
She lets out a startled gasp when the shower blast hits her in the face. I can see the waves slowing their reverse course, but her body is still feeding on itself.
My tentative idea, the one I’m not sure is a good idea is no longer an option.
Aurora needs to feed, and it has to be tonight.
Chapter 21
Eating Myself Out
AURORA
Asheet of cold rain comes down on Talon and I as we walk along the darkened docks, chilling me to the bone. Which, admittedly, helps. A little.
Because fae lords, my bodyhurts.It’s not the ache of a good orgasm. Not the soreness that comes with satisfaction.
This iswrong.Current rips through my spine. My limbs feel brittle, glass stretched too thin. My skin is too tight. My chest is caving. My ribs are knives, and my stomach is one great screaming void. My curse kicked the door wide, a meal waiting on the other side.
Worse than starving. I’m cannibalizing.
We had to wait for hours. Trapped in that apartment, waiting for nightfall to come.
Every minute dragged. My head split open behind my eyes. My limbs wouldn’t stop shaking. And all Talon kept saying was“Hold on. Just a little longer. I’ve got you. It’s going to be okay, baby.”
Baby. I still love when he calls me that.
I have no idea why Talon’s brought me out here. I want to ask,why aren’t we going to a motel like last time?But even forming words grates across my tongue, heavy and slow.
My limbs are shaky, useless. My head’s pounding with the kind of migraine that feels personal. And under all that?
