Stacey stood there, staring, his brain whirring in tight circles.
What the hell had Hunter just said?
Dying. Marked. Magic. Cursed.
And now…
This?
Before he could string a single thought together, Hunter closed the distance between them in two steps.
Two steps, and Hunter's lips crashed down onto his.
It wasn't like the last kiss.
There was no teasing now, no flirtation, no measured bite of smugness.
This was—
Hungry. Desperate.
Hunter kissed him like he was trying to erase time.
Like he could rewire the world through their skin touching.
His hands were heavier this time, too, rougher. One hand cupped Stacey's ass without apology, the other tugging him close at the waist, the press of Hunter's palm flat and warm at the small of his back.
Heat pooled there. Stacey pretended not to notice.
His heart slammed in his chest, but his brain still couldn't catch up.
He was being touched like he was someone's.
He was being held like he belonged somewhere other than nowhere.
