Deep, steady thrusts that make her gasp. I watch her face, read every flicker of sensation, adjust my angle until I find the spot that makes her eyes roll back.
"There," she breathes. "Right there—"
I give herthere. Again and again, building rhythm, pressure, until she's writhing underneath me and my control is shredding.
"Mine," I hear myself growl. "Say it."
"Yours." Her nails dig into my back. "Yours, Vorak, I'm—"
She comes with my name on her lips, and I follow her over the edge.
The orgasm rips through me with enough force that the runes flare gold—gold, not red—and for a moment I feel the curse simply...quiet.
At peace.
I collapse beside her, dragging her against my chest, breathing her in.
We lie there tangled together, heartbeats slowing, while the golden light fades from my skin.
"That was—" She stops. Laughs softly. "I don't have words."
"Good." I press a kiss to her hair. "Good is enough."
She traces one of the runes on my forearm—dark again, dormant. "What happened? At the end. They turned gold."
"I don't know."
But I'm lying.
I do know.
Or I'm starting to.
The Bloodkey magic. The curse. Her blood calling to mine.
We're connected now in a way I don't fully understand but canfeel.
"Vorak." Her voice is quiet. "When the thirty days are up... what happens?"
I tighten my arms around her. "I don't let them take you."
"But how—"
"I don't know yet." Honesty. "But I'll find a way. Even if it means war."
She's silent for a long moment.
Then: "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For choosing me." She tilts her head up to look at me. "Even when it's dangerous. Even when it's stupid."
"You're not stupid."
"Breaking the Compact for a branded witch? Pretty stupid."
I catch her chin. Make her meet my eyes. "You're not just a branded witch. You'remine. And I protect what's mine."
