The rain didn't just fall—it attacked. Sheets of it slammed against the library windows like fists, matching the wild thump in my chest that hadn't slowed since Kai walked away. His last words still echoed in my skull: Tempting. But not yet. The bond isn't ready. God, the way he'd said it—low, rough, like he was already imagining how we'd break each other when the time finally came. My skin felt too tight, too hot, even with the damp chill seeping through my hoodie.
Every step I took away from the stacks felt like fighting gravity. The mark on my wrist pulsed in steady, demanding beats, as if it were counting down to something I wasn't ready to name. I told myself I was just overwhelmed. New school, hot mysterious guy, sleep deprivation—normal freshman meltdown material. But the lie tasted bitter. This wasn't normal. This was ancient, possessive, and it had sunk its hooks into me the second our eyes met in Lit 101.
I veered off the main path toward the clock tower on the edge of campus. Everyone knew the stories: lovers who disappeared mid-kiss under that cracked bell, shadows that watched from the arched windows, the bell that hadn't rung since the night the Veil supposedly thinned for the first time. I used to think they were just spooky urban legends designed to scare drunk freshmen. Tonight they felt like road signs I was choosing to ignore.
Halfway across the empty quad, the mark flared so viciously I stumbled, clutching my wrist like it might rip free of my skin. The world hiccuped. Raindrops froze mid-fall, suspended like glass beads. Colors bled—green leaves flashed crimson, stone walls shimmered violet. Then everything slammed back into place with a force that knocked the breath out of me.
And there he was.
Not walking toward me. Already waiting. Leaning against the rusted iron gate that ringed the tower, arms crossed, rain streaming down his face in slow, deliberate paths. His black hair clung to his forehead in wet spikes; water darkened his leather jacket until it molded to every hard line of his chest and shoulders like a second skin. Those storm-gray eyes found mine instantly, unblinking, as though he'd been standing in that exact spot for hours—or lifetimes—knowing I'd come.
"You followed the pull," he said. His voice cut through the downpour, low and sure.
"I didn't follow shit," I snapped, but my voice cracked on the lie. My feet had carried me here on autopilot. "I just needed… air. Away from you. Away from whatever this is."
Kai pushed off the gate in one smooth motion, closing the distance with slow, predatory steps. Rain dripped from his lashes, catching the faint glow of distant campus lights. Up close he smelled like wet leather, ozone after lightning, and that faint metallic bite I could never quite place—blood? Copper? Something that made my mouth water even as warning bells screamed in my head.
"Air won't fix it," he murmured. "The bond doesn't give a damn about distance. It only cares how badly you want me." His gaze dragged down my body—lingering on my mouth, my throat, the way my chest rose and fell too fast. "And you want me so fucking badly I can taste it from here. Every shaky breath. Every time you squeeze your thighs together trying to ignore how wet you've been since the library."
Heat exploded across my cheeks and straight between my legs. My core clenched hard at his words—traitorous, immediate, humiliating. I hated how right he was. Hated how my body recognized him like it had been waiting centuries for permission to wake up.
"Don't," I whispered. It came out sounding more like please don't stop.
"Don't what?" He tilted his head, studying me with dark patience. "Don't tell you the truth? Or don't do this?"
His hand lifted—slow enough that I could've dodged—and cupped the side of my face. His palm was shockingly warm against the cold rain. His thumb brushed my bottom lip, parting it just enough that I tasted salt and storm on his skin. Electricity raced down my spine, pooling low and insistent.
I sucked in a shaky breath.
He stepped in until our bodies almost touched, his heat cutting through the chill like a blade. "You've been replaying it, haven't you?" he continued, voice velvet over steel. "The dream. My hands sliding under your shirt. My mouth on your throat. How I made you arch and beg without ever saying a word out loud."
The memories hit like a slap—his dream-self pinning me to shadows, fingers stroking between my thighs, slow and ruthless until I was trembling, pleading, coming apart. I'd woken soaked and shaking, thighs slick, hating how much I'd wanted the real thing.
"I—" The word died as his thumb slipped just inside my mouth. My tongue flicked against it instinctively. I tasted rain, skin, faint iron.
His eyes went black. "Fuck, Mia."
He hauled me against him in one brutal motion. My front slammed into his soaked chest; my legs parted around his thigh on pure instinct. The friction through denim sent a white-hot jolt straight to my clit. I whimpered into his mouth as he kissed me—no gentleness, no hesitation. He devoured. Teeth clashed, tongue swept deep, claiming every corner like he'd been starving for me across every lifetime.
I kissed him back just as desperately, fingers knotting in his wet hair, pulling him closer until there was no space, no air, only us. His hands roamed—gripping my hips hard enough to bruise, sliding under my hoodie, rough palms skating over bare skin until I arched into him with a broken moan. The mark blazed bright enough to cast stark shadows across his cheekbones.
He broke the kiss only to drag his mouth down my throat, teeth grazing my pulse. "Tell me to stop."
I tilted my head, offering more skin. "Don't you fucking dare."
A growl tore from his chest. He lifted me like I weighed nothing; my legs wrapped around his waist. The new angle let him grind right against me—slow, deliberate rolls that had me gasping, head falling back against the iron bars. Rain pelted my face. I didn't care. All I cared about was the building pressure, the way his mouth found my collarbone, sucking hard enough to leave a dark bruise.
The mark exploded with light—blinding white. The world glitched again: flashes of us in candlelit ruins, silk tearing, bodies slick with sweat; us on battlefields, hands bound with black cord, whispering vows as the sky split open.
Reality crashed back.
Kai froze, breathing ragged against my neck. "You saw them."
I nodded, trembling. "All the times we tried. All the times we lost."
His forehead pressed to mine. "They want to finish it. Through us. If we keep going—"
"I don't care." The words spilled out, reckless and raw. "I want this. I want you. Not the past. Not the ghosts. Just us. Right here. Right now."
Something shattered in his eyes—centuries of restraint, guilt, fear. Then he kissed me again, slower, deeper, almost tender, even as his hand slid between us, popping the button on my jeans.
He carried me through the gate, kicking the tower door open. Inside was darkness and damp stone and the faint metallic scent of old bronze. He set me down only long enough to shove my hoodie up and bra aside. Then his mouth was on me—hot, wet, sucking my nipple deep while his fingers dipped beneath my panties.
I cried out as he found me drenched, circling my clit with devastating precision. Two fingers slid inside, curling, stroking that spot until my knees buckled.
"Kai—please—"
He tore his mouth away, eyes feral. "Say it. Everything."
"I want you inside me," I gasped. "I want you to fuck me until nothing else exists. Until the world breaks. Until there's only us."
He spun me, pressing my front to the cold stone. Jeans and panties shoved down. The sound of his belt, his zipper—filthy in the silence. Then heat—thick, blunt pressure.
He thrust in one deep, ruthless stroke.
I screamed his name.
He stilled, letting me feel every pulsing inch stretching me, filling me. Then he moved—slow at first, savoring, then harder, faster. Each snap of his hips drove me up onto my toes; my palms slapped the stone. His hand wrapped around my throat—not choking, just claiming—thumb on my pulse. The other found my clit again—fast, merciless circles.
"Come for me," he snarled against my ear. "Let them see who owns you."
The orgasm ripped through me—shattering, endless, white-hot. I sobbed his name, clenching around him, thighs shaking. He followed with a guttural roar, hips stuttering as he spilled deep inside me, marking me from the inside the way the bond had marked my skin.
We stayed locked together—panting, trembling—until the tower shook.
Not thunder.
Something alive in the walls.
Cracks spiderwebbed up the stone. Translucent figures flickered into view—our past selves, reaching, mouths open in silent howls.
Kai pulled out slowly, tucking himself away, then yanked me behind him, shielding me even as his own body shook.
"They're coming through," he whispered, voice wrecked. "We just woke them all."
Lightning split the sky.
The figures lunged.
And the Veil tore its first real crack between us.