Aestrea hit the ground with both knees.
Not because he chose to.
But because his legs refused to listen anymore.
The magic burned hotter by the second—every breath of air felt like it carried Selene's scent, every flicker of aura felt like it brushed against her skin. His pulse pounded so hard in his ears he could barely hear the wind.
Sweat poured down his back, sticking his shirt to his body. His mouth opened, but he couldn't speak—because even the act of trying made his throat tighten.
Selene crouched in front of him.
Her thighs pressed together as her body trembled under the shared heat.
Her fingers brushed her lips, and she let out a shaky breath as she looked down at him.
"You're strong," she said softly, her voice cracking like a whip made of silk. "Too strong. If I had used this on anyone else, they would've already started begging me."
She leaned forward, her forehead touching his.
Their breaths tangled.
