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His expression turns urgent. "But the bond is only half-formed. Our spirits are tethered, holding back the entity, but only temporarily. It needs a physical anchor. A claim, made fully and willingly, to seal our magic together so securely the entity can never break it."

Another massive slab of stone crashes outside our stasis field, the vibration rattling my teeth. We are entirely out of time, and the odds of walking out of these ruins are razor-thin.

"If this tomb is our last stop," I whisper, the realization hitting me not with fear but with a burning need, "if this is it... I want this. I want to choose you, completely. I want everything you can give me."

His hands grip my waist, solid and unyielding. "I'm choosing you, Rene. Now and forever."

He claims my mouth, his lips crashing down on mine with a demanding intensity. This is pure shelter and surrender, a vital lifeline thrown directly into the storm raging inside me. The entity’s shriek in my mind falters as his hand slides into my hair, angling my head to intensify the kiss. His tongue sweeps against mine, soothing the power thrashing under my skin until it softens, like waves calming against a steadfast shore.

He breaks the kiss only to pin my wrists against the cold stone above my head, his body a solid wall of heat against me. "Hold still." His command vibrates against my jawline, then lower, along the column of my throat. His lips find the shallow cut Sybil’s hex left near my collarbone. The warm swipe of his tongue over the wound sends a jolt through me, sharp and viscerally connective. The pure magic stuttering beneath my skin smooths into a constant thrum where his mouth touches me.

"Feels like the walls are breathing." I tilt my head to give him better access. The entity’s whispers fade beneath the scrape of his stubble against my skin and the possessive grip on my wrists. "If this tomb’s our last stop… I want everything you can give me."

He leans back far enough to bring our eyes level. A dangerous smile curves his lips. "Your wish," he rasps, wiping his blood-stained hands hastily on his ruined tactical pants before his fingers grip the lapels of my torn jacket. "Is my command."

Leaving the jacket on, he casually pushes it wide. The air is thick with dust and the iron tang of Sybil's blood, a stark reminder of the carnage mere feet away. There's no time for slow seduction. The stasis field hums above us, holding thousands of tons of rock at bay. We need the bond cemented now.

"You're covered in blood," I breathe, my hands finding his vest, fumbling with the clasps.

"I know and don't care," he says fiercely, shoving my shirt up just enough to expose my breasts, leaving the rest of my clothes intact. His mouth closes over my collarbone, teeth grazing the skin in a desperate, bruising kiss that grounds my spiraling magic. He works his hand between us, dealing with the button of my jeans. The rasp of the zipper is loud in the tight stone alcove.

"We have to hurry," I urge, helping him shove the denim and lace down just to my knees, kicking one leg completely free so the fabric pools at my other ankle. The cool, damp air of the catacombs hits my heated skin.

Darius's breathing is ragged. With every second counting in the tight squeeze, he simply unzips his pants, freeing his heavy, aching erection. His hands are still smeared with soot and gore, but he uses his clean forearms to pin my thighs, lifting one of my legs to hook securely over his hip. I'm backed hard against the carved stone wall, the ancient runes biting into my spine through my shirt.

"Ready?" His voice is a primal vibration, urgency stripping away all pretense.

I know what he means. The anchor has to be forged now, at the absolute apex of the danger, or we would both be consumed. My body already knows it too; the soul-bond has me fully primed, flooded with a slick, pooling heat that aches for his claim.

"Do it, claim the bond," I gasp, my hands gripping his tactical vest, smearing his bloodied gear with my own dust-covered fingers.

Without any hesitation, he drives into me in one deep, unyielding thrust. The feeling is an overwhelmingly perfect, sudden invasion of heat that forces the dust-choked air out of my lungs. A sharp cry escapes me as my spine arches harder against the unforgiving stone, my fingers digging desperately into the vest and hard muscle of his shoulders. I search for purchase in a world that has suddenly, violently tilted on its axis. The sheer physical power of him fills me completely, an anchor thrown into the center of my magical storm.

"Darius!"

He stops moving for an agonizing heartbeat, buried to the hilt, his forehead dropping heavily against mine. Our breaths mingle, ragged and shared—a frantic exchange of oxygen in the suffocating, debris-filled darkness of the alcove. Outside our fragile bubble of magic, the ruins groan, but inside, the entire universe narrows to the friction of our joined bodies.

"Feel that?" he rasps, the deep vibration echoing inside me where we are connected, thrumming through bones and tissue until I can’t tell where my skin ends and his begins. "This reality belongs solely to us."

Then he moves. Long, powerful, relentless strokes that angle into my very center, hitting a spot that makes stars burst behind my closed eyelids, fracturing the gloom into brilliant, blinding light. Each withdrawal is a slow tease, an intentional stripping away of his heat that leaves me shivering in the subterranean chill. Each return is a jolt of pure, weighted pleasure that roots me to the earth. My nails rake down the back of his tactical vest, finding the edge of his shirt and gripping the fabric tight. The stone wall is cold and brutal against my back, a stark, rough contrast to the absolute furnace of his body surrounding me, consuming every last inch of me.

For weeks, the entity’s poison had slithered through my veins, a slick, oily corruption that made my own magic feel like a weapon pointed at my chest. But with every heavy, rhythmic slide of his skin against mine, that corruption is violently burned away. The terrifying, untamed vertigo of being powerless vanishes entirely. I’m finally in control, pinned against the rock by his sheer weight. The power within me buzzes now, harmonious and consistent, settling into a resonant, beautiful chord tuned perfectly to his overwhelming presence.

Around us, the collapsing ruins and the distant echoes of the battle shrink to nothing. The cosmic threat becomes a distant, dying hum compared to the relentless, perfect friction of Darius moving inside me. I tune into the scrape of his jaw against mine, allowing his possessive, desperate grip on my hips to anchor me to the glorious realization that my magic is finally mine to command.

The thought zaps through me like a shockwave. I need more. This hunger demands everything, burning hotter against the threat of the collapsing stone around us. I need to feel him deeper and need the heavy drive of his body to fully forge the bond that will save us both.

My leg tightens around his hip as I thrust upward against him, taking the full, punishing depth of him willingly. The sudden shift drags a ragged groan from his throat—half pain, half absolute surrender. Our chests slam together, slick with sweat, blood, and dust, our hearts hammering against each other’s ribs in a frantic chorus. Every inch of exposed skin is burning with a fever that transcends the curse, fueled entirely by choice.

"Christ, Rene⁠—"

"Don’t stop." I grind down hard as he drives deeper, the angle ruthless and unyielding in the cramped space. Stone bites into my shoulder blades, scraping through my shirt as he pins me into the narrow pocket of air. I welcome the pain and the grit cutting into my skin. The sting only sharpens the pleasure, a brilliantly stark counterpoint to the brutal pace he sets.

His hands clamp tightly on my waist, his grip bruising through my clothes as he lifts me just to slam me back down onto him, maximizing the friction until the heat ignites into a wildfire in my veins. My nails dig into his shoulders. A feral, wolf-deep sound vibrates from his chest and through my core, triggering a wave of answering heat that pools heavy in my belly.

"Open your eyes."

My gaze snaps to his. Flecks of gold burn in his eyes, pupils blown wide, reflecting the raw, ancient power he’s channeling to keep us both alive. Sweat drips from his jaw onto my collarbone, cutting tracks through the soot. I lick salt from his throat, tasting desperation wrapped in the absolute truth of him.