This kiss was not like the first frantic collision. It was deeper, more deliberate, a slow, burning reclamation. It was a language of shared history, of whispered promises in the dark, of a child created from this very bond. His hands roamed her back, tracing the path his mark would take on her skin, pulling her flush against him until not a sliver of air remained.
Yueyao's mind screamed in silent panic, but her body was a traitor. A low, helpless sound escaped her as she kissed him back, her arms winding around his neck, her fingers threading into his hair. The bond between them thrummed like a plucked string, resonating with a terrifying, addictive harmony. He laid her back onto the silken sheets, his weight a familiar anchor she had never known, his kisses trailing fire down her jaw, her throat, pausing to worship the mark that pulsed with a frantic, eager rhythm.
She was drowning in him, in the ghost of a life that wasn't hers, her resolve melting under the dual assault of his pheromones and her body's treacherous memory. His name was a prayer on her lips, "Lian…", a plea for him to stop, or perhaps to never, ever stop.
He answered that silent plea with a low growl against her skin, the sound deep and primal, vibrating through her bones. His breath came hot and uneven as he brushed his lips over the corner of her mouth again, slower this time, deeper, his movements reverent yet hungry, like a man worshiping the only thing that could keep him alive.
His hand slid along her waist, the heat of his palm searing through the thin fabric as it traced the trembling curve of her body. When his fingers finally came to rest over her heart, the wild rhythm beneath his touch made his breath falter.
"Do you feel that?" he whispered against her ear, his voice low and rough, trembling with barely leashed desire. "It beats like mine… the same pulse, the same madness. You and I...." his lips grazed her neck, "....were never meant to be apart."
Her breath caught, a soft gasp breaking free as her fingers fisted the sheets, her body arching unconsciously toward his. Every inch of him burned against her, the scent of him, cedar, smoke, and something wild, wrapping around her senses like a spell.
The air thickened between them, charged with heat and something ancient. Spiritual energy surged from their entwined souls, silver light bursting to life beneath their skin, threads of power twining like molten fire. It wasn't just a desire, it was recognition.
For a single heartbeat, the world fell away.
There was no curse, no fate, no fear. Only him and her.
Only the rhythm that bound them together, fierce, eternal, and inescapable.
For a moment, Yueyao forgot how to breathe. The heat of his touch, the ache in his voice, it all felt too real, too consuming. Every pulse of light between them echoed through her veins like a memory she wasn't supposed to have, like the heartbeat of another life calling her home.
Her mind screamed for a reason, for distance, but her soul betrayed her. How could something that felt this right be wrong? How could her body remember him so deeply when her heart still trembled in confusion?
His name trembled on her lips again, this time not as a plea, but as a confession from the original Yueshuang, "Lian…"
And in that single whisper, she felt the walls around her heart crumble, the fragile boundaries of logic, duty, and fear falling away beneath the weight of something older than both of them.
If this was madness, she thought faintly, then let it consume her.
Because the way he looked at her, as if she were the only salvation he had left, made her want to forget everything else.
The world narrowed to the warmth of his breath, the burn of his skin, the pull of that invisible thread drawing them closer, closer....
He caught her whisper like it was the last breath he'd ever been given.
"Shuang'er…" The way he said her name wasn't just longing, it was devotion, desperation, and worship. His forehead pressed to hers, his breath ragged. "Even if the heavens curse me all over again, I'll still choose you over and over again...."
His hand moved to cradle her face, thumb brushing the corner of her trembling lips. His voice was barely more than a growl, low and reverent. "No fate, no god, no curse can keep me from you. Nothing will and should!"
Then he kissed her, not with hunger this time, but with anguish. It was the kiss of a man who had already lost her once and would burn the world before losing her again.