She snorts. “I destroyed three vases in the atrium yesterday.”

A laugh rumbles out of me. “You’ll get there. We’ll train you up, get you nice and coordinated.” I drag my teeth over her pulse, feeling her shiver. She smells like crushed petals and spring rain, like something wild and mine. “You left me alone in that big bed. For gardening.”

“You’re the reason my roses are dead. You should help me.”

“You know you don’t need to clear the roses with your hands anymore, don’t you? You could magic it away.”

“Just because I’m a demigoddess doesn’t mean I want magic to fix everything.” She leans into me. “Four days, Wolf. You’ve had me in that bed for four days straight.”

“And the plan was seven days of making you scream my name before I had to share you with the rest of the world. You fucked up my schedule, nemesis.” I lift her wrist to my mouth and let my lips drag over the glowing star. “Anything you want to talk about?”

For a moment, there’s only the whisper of leaves overhead, the morning chorus of birds.

Then, “I miss my sister.”

Ah. There it is.

“I know it’s only been a week. But after everything that went down in Hellevig…” She swallows hard. “I hate thinking of her there alone.”

“Elias is with her,” I say. “He’s one of Alexios’ best warriors. And Bastien will be there in a few days for part of the rotation. They’ll keep her safe.”

Her glare could melt steel. “Right. Because what every woman needs when she’s dealing with political shit and assassination attempts is Bastien ‘I’d rather set myself on fire than smile’ and some random demi guard instead of her sister.”

I wince. Okay, yeah. Point taken.

“I’ll take you to her. But I’ll need to work something out with Alexios. He controls the Shroud, and now that I’m not his Enforcer, crossing between realms isn’t as simple.”

Her wings droop. “Oh.”

“Hey.” I tip her chin up. “I’ll make it happen.”

Her expression softens, and warmth floods the bond, that soothing sensation of our souls meeting down the tether like tangling tree roots. Over our eternity, those roots will spread, grow, deepen.

“You’d tear the world apart if I asked, wouldn’t you?” she asks me.

A million times over, I think but don’t say. She knows. She has to know.

What comes out instead is a low, rough, “Try me and find out.”

I pull her more firmly against me, savoring how her breathing goes a little ragged. Then I capture her lips with mine, tentative at first, exploring. I’ve been doing this for days now—letting myself taste her, kiss her as if to relearn her. But then she pushes against me more insistently. A wordless demand.

So I slant my mouth over hers, kissing her slow and deep. The kind of kiss that says mine and yours and always. Her lips part with a sigh, and I savor the sweetness of her.

“I want you,” I say when we break apart. “Tell me I can have you right now. Tell me you didn’t bother with underwear under this shirt.”

“No.” It’s barely more than a breath. “None at all.”

Fuck.

A red haze takes over. My hands slide down to the backs of her thighs, and I lift her, pressing her to the tower wall. I keep one hand cupped under her ass to hold her in place as I work open the buttons of her borrowed shirt with the other.

“Five-day ban on gardening,” I tell her.

“That seems excessive—”

Her words cut off on a moan as I close my mouth over her nipple.

“You left my bed empty.” I punctuate the words with a sharp nip. “Actions. Have. Consequences.”

I take my time with her. My lips map a burning trail down her throat, across her collarbones, between her breasts. Until she’s making those little urgent sounds that drive me crazy. Need pulses between us, building with every touch. A feedback loop of want and more and please.

She unbuttons my trousers and grips my cock. My hips jerk into her fist, chasing more of that perfect friction.

“Keep that up,” I grit out, “and this is going to be over embarrassingly fast.”

“Then hurry up and fuck me.”

With a rough laugh, I notch myself against her pussy and push into her, relishing the tightness, the heat, her body yielding to mine. Her head thumps back against the wall, lips parting.

“Nemesis, you feel—” I break off, burying my groan in the crook of her neck. She feels like completion. Like everything I’ve ever wanted.

I start to move. A slow, deep grind that has our hips meeting on every downstroke. I refuse to rush this. I’ll never get tired of seeing her mouth part on a gasp as I fuck into her. The snag of her teeth on her lower lip. The way her eyes glaze as she watches me. Her hips roll against mine, lifting with every thrust.

I’ve been careful with her these past few days. So mindful of her body’s limitations after the transformation. But my queen has other ideas. Her thighs flex around my waist, using that new strength to urge me faster, harder.

“Stop treating me like I’m fragile,” she pants.

If she wants to be ruined, I can do that.

I wedge my hand between her wings to grip the nape of her neck, yanking her in for a hard kiss. Then I’m slamming into her, driving up into her heat. Our bond floods with sensation—pleasure edged with a sweet ache as I give her what she wants. What we both need. She matches me, thrust for thrust, hands scrabbling at my shoulders, my wings, any part of me she can reach.

I slide my fingers to her clit and circle it until she’s shaking. Nearly there. I work her higher, winding her tighter and tighter and tighter—

And then she bites me.

Her teeth close over the Claim on my chest, right on top of that star—our star—and pleasure whites out thought.

“Oh fuck,” I groan. “Sweetheart, you can’t just…”

She does it again, and my hips grind into her, seeking that liquid heat, that impossible rapture. Sensation bursts through me. She’s everywhere at once—in my head, under my skin. Her pleasure bleeds into mine, building together until we’re all tangled up.

Release crashes into me. For a suspended moment, I’m frozen, drowning in bliss so intense it hurts. I bury my face in her neck as I empty myself inside her, my hips rocking in shallow pushes. I dimly register her tensing around me as she joins me over the edge, her cries muffled against me. Her thighs squeeze my hips.

Fucking her has never felt so much like annihilation.

Her expression goes soft as she opens her eyes and kisses me. Because this is forever. This is eternity. My heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest, like she’s reached into my ribs and grabbed it, marked it as her own. I press my lips to her brow. Her cheeks. The corners of her mouth. I turn my face into her neck and just breathe.

“I love you,” I rasp. They’re too small, those three words. Too simple for the enormity of our souls brushing against one another. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Later, as we’re straightening our clothes, I see it.

Peeking out from beneath the tangle of dead vines, a glowing red rose opens its petals to the morning sun.

*   *   *

Alexios stands at the edge of the cliff, his wings spread wide, and his power building like a storm about to break.

“Come to threaten me again over your Chosen?” he asks.

The Shroud unfurls in a veil of stars, glimmering and vast, with colors bleeding together. Black lines of rot cut through it, eating the rest away.

“Tempting,” I admit. “But no. I’m here to make a deal.”

A sharp laugh. “Five days, and you’re already crawling back for favors?” His red eyes cut into me, searching. “Give me one good reason why I should even consider it.”

I breathe deep. I can do this. For her.

“Because I’ll help you hold up the Shroud.”

Alexios goes quiet, and I watch the calculations behind those garnet eyes. “Must be a big ask. Does the female whose name I’m meant to keep out of my fucking mouth know you’re here bartering?”