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I felt the rocky ground beneath me, etching its imprint into my naked, newly created flesh.

I felt the expansion of my chest as breath filled my lungs for the very first time.

I felt the warm droplets that came from up above, shattering against my face.

Warm weight lowered overtop of me, encasing my body in a safe, protective cage. It felt like home, like I was tucked safely in the womb of the moon, safely behind the sun’s iron ribs.

“Open your eyes, Moonbeam,” said a male voice.

My—our—heart leapt at the familiar sound, quickening its trot into a constant, palpitating gallop. Slowly, I opened my eyes, peering up into his. They were lovely, spun from gold and glistening with sunlight. Tears rimmed his eyes, wetting his white lashes, clumping the long wisps together.

He was so incredibly lovely—perfection given male form.

A soft frown creased my brows, pulling the edges of my lips down. “Why do you weep, my love?” I wiped at his tears, my long, elegant fingers catching my attention.

This was . . .myhand. I glanced down at my naked frame, forged by a gently rolling landscape with supple peaks and curious valleys. Wrapped in soft, pale silk. I was a woman.

A goddess in my own right.

Gently, he kissed my forehead. “Because you are everything to me.”

His body lifted from mine, and he gathered me in his arms, cradling me with such care, as if I were made of glass. He walked on a steady incline, out of the crater I had been forged in.

I believed him—I was his everything.

Just as he was mine.

“Where are we going?” I asked, my fingers weaving into his beautiful white hair—the twin to my own. But where his skin was kissed by the sun, mine was painted by the moon.

“We are going home,” he said, his hold tightening around me, telling me that he would never let me go.

I hummed softly. “That sounds lovely.”

He smiled down at me, casting me in his warmth.

“What will we do when we get home?” I asked, basking in his sun.

“We will do what we were made to do—we will create life. Together.”

“Together,” I repeated, smiling to myself as I laid my head upon his chest, listening to the absence that was there, knowing the sacrifice he had made for me. I owed my existence to him.

I looked up at him—beautiful, enchanting him—my golden king. Our heart would never beat for another. It belonged to him . . . forever.

A sudden burst of pure joy and love overtook me, my body resonating. Before I exploded like a star running out of life, I threw my arms around his neck, my laughter ringing out into the night.

His laughter married with mine as he pulled me closer. “Your beauty is astounding. Everything about you calls to me. You were perfectly designed for me, Moonbeam.” His lips brushed against my ear as he whispered, “Would you think me barbaric if I took you right here?”

“No,” I answered honestly. I felt that same need swell within me. I wanted to be joined with him just as we were designed to be, but . . . “I do not know how,” I admitted, heat radiating from my cheeks.

“I will show you.” He sealed the promise with a deep kiss that ended far too soon. He pulled away, his eyes flickering between mine, gauging my reaction.

My fingers brushed over my lips—so that was what it felt like to be kissed. My hand fell, drifting to my heart, feeling the way that it hammered within my breast, beating with such ferocity—with such . . . life.

“Again,” I said as I wrapped my arms around his neck and hauled my mouth against his. We kissed. And we kissed. And we kissed. Our hands were constantly moving, roaming over each other—learning each other as our mouths spoke a language that was entirely of their own design. I opened my mouth to him, and his tongue slid inside, tangling with mine and I—

“I’ve never been so turned off in my entire life, and I’m old as fuck,” interrupted a deep voice, bathed in dominance and dripping with unbridled arrogance.

One second, I was in my beloved’s arms, kissing him, and the next, I was standing, tucked behind him.

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