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And when I take one of his hands, bring his fingers to my lips and kiss them like I’ve dreamed of doing since I was a boy, I think it might truly kill me if I never get to do this again.

“Will you scent mark me, Ryx?” I ask, holding his gunmetal stare.

He swallows hard, but nods.

Time slows to a stop as he drags his index and middle fingers over my scent gland. I tilt my chin up, baring my throat, and bite my lip so I don’t whimper. Each pass over that sensitive spot sends shivers down my spine. His scent seeps into my pores, under my skin and into my bones. It triggers something inside me that I thought I didn’t have. Something…warm.

It’s like finding a home.

Ryx cups my face once he’s done, then sits up and holds me flush to his chest. “It was real, wasn’t it? Before…”

I nod, chin wobbling.

“And these…,” he trails off to trace over the multiple scars down my back. Genuine horror flashes through his eyes before he growls. “I fucking hated you, Saren. You have to know that. You have to know that I couldn’t…”

“I hated you too,” I cut him off. “But I loved you more than I could ever hate.”

“And now?” Guilt tarnishes his sage scent. So much guilt that I’m choking on it.

Now it’s my turn to cup his face and tilt his chin up. “Nothing has changed.”

“You’re wrong,” he whispers, eyes glossy with a rare show of vulnerability. He nuzzles into my hand, breathing me in. “Everything has changed.”

***

Once we untangle, I fidget with the moth-bitten blanket, tugging it up and over my shoulders. Ryx perches on the edge of the bed, raking a shaky hand through his tangled hair. Whatever bubble we found ourselves in seems to have popped. I’m sticky from the waist down, aching and sore.

When it was all happening, I didn’t mind being torn apart. It’s only as I sneak glances at the cuts and bites all over my body that I grimace. Dried blood mixes with cum and saliva. Fresh purple bruises dot my hips and thighs, and I’m sure there are more around my neck.

I keep getting stuck on the physical changes that happened right before my eyes.

Ryx was…monstrous.

A hundred questions rest on the tip of my tongue, but I’m scared to voice them. What if the answers aren’t what I want to hear?

I’m not so naive that I can’t see people get lost in the moment—they might say or do things while fueled by passion. Unfortunately, I’m not experienced enough to know if that’s the case with us.

“We can’t stay here for much longer,” Ryx says abruptly and slides on his pants.

I pull the blanket tighter around me. “Briar Peak is a suicide mission,” I grumble. He doesn’t know what I know.

We’ll have to travel the Runway.

Countless people have died on that road.

Not only that, but we’ll have to pass through Ivory Hill. The impenetrable Telex utopia with their very own Maven. If what I heard from the council is true, Ivory’s Maven could easily outmatch me. While I have the abilities, I lack the control. It’s why a fucking hybrid bested me.

“I don’t have a choice.” Ryx is fully clothed now, while I’m as naked as the day I was born.

He toes on his boots, eyes on the floor.

Does he regret it now that it’s over?

“Levi is going to come sniffing eventually, and I’d rather be on the other side of Hale Valley before that happens. We can restock supplies, get a warm meal, and possibly even a truck.”

“You’re not listening to me,” I argue. And yes, I’m even more rubbed raw by the way he’s behaving.

Like the past few hours never happened.