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SHE’D BURNED HIM. LITERALLY burned him. Strider had blisters all over his body. Or at least, he’d had them. The moment he’d climaxed, jetting inside her, his demon had climaxed, as well. Kaia, a strong, capable Harpy, had surrendered to them, utterly and completely, giving them every thing, all that she was, and the unending pleasure that knowledge had wrought in him had given way to shocking strength. The blisters had begun healing mere seconds after forming.

He’d never experienced anything like it. And now he felt…invincible. Yeah, that was the word. He could do anything. Could topple an army, find Pandora’s box, whatever. His demon felt the same, was even then moaning with abandon, still lost to the sensations.

Somewhere during the time Strider had spent on his knees, feasting between Kaia’s legs, and the time she’d spent on her knees, feasting between his legs, being her best had ceased to matter. He’d wanted only to be with her. Her, Kaia. No one else.

She’d become his sickness and his cure, shooting him to heights he hadn’t known existed.

Now he rolled to his side, keeping her tucked against him. He didn’t want to let her go. Not now, not ever.

She buried her head in the hollow of his neck, her silky hair tickling his skin. They were both sweat-soaked, and her body temperature had cooled only slightly. His favorite, though: she glowed. Damn, did she glow, all the colors of the rainbow shining from her skin. She made his mouth water for another taste, when arousal should have been impossible. For a year, at least.

Her fingers traced along the edges of his azure butterfly tattoo, the ink seeming to rise up to meet her, as if craving more of that heat. A deeper burn. He’d never before allowed a female to fondle the mark. That’s where Defeat had entered his body, a constant reminder of Strider’s stupidity. Sometimes he looked at the jagged ink and felt ashamed. Just then, he liked that it was there. He liked Kaia’s attention to the details.

“You’re not…hurt, are you?” she asked in a voice full of gravel.

When he wanted to bang his chest and whoop with pride? “Opposite of hurt.”

“Really?”

“Really.” She asked that a lot, as if she didn’t dare believe his words. “Didn’t even need my safe phrase.”

She chuckled, but her amusement quickly washed away. She stiffened, getting serious. “So you had a good time, then?”

He flattened his chin against his sternum, looking down at her. She had her own face angled down, so he saw only that crest of red hair. “Are you serious?”

Clearly offended, she huffed out, “Would I have asked otherwise?”

“Did you not hear me roar? Twice?”

“Yes,” she admitted softly. “I did.”

“And you still want to know if I had a good time?”

“Well, you’re not in pain, as you said, so you know you were my best. But there’s no way for me to know about you unless you tell me.”

Ah. He opened his mouth to respond, but she’d only just warmed up to her subject. “And really,” she continued, “you resisted me for so long. You never wanted to be with me. You made sure I knew we were only temporary.”

Temporary. The word settled inside his head like a bomb seconds away from detonation. The thought of this woman with another man, naked like this, sated like this, sharing like this… Every cell in his body screamed in protest. Mine.

If he committed, she would expect forever.

Usually the word forever made him cringe. Just then, forever didn’t seem like enough time with her. There were too many things to talk about, to do, too many ways to have her, and still practice the old stuff.

Did that mean he…loved her?

That thought didn’t make him cringe, either. But loving her would mean putting her needs above his own, above his mission, above everything. If he did that, and then later lost her…losing her would mean losing everything. More than that, she would challenge him constantly, whether she meant to do so or not. She would demand his attention and she wouldn’t let him get away with shit.

But—and that was a BIG but—he’d thought he would hate living that way. In fact, he’d thought he needed a break from the challenge of simply being who and what he was, which was why he’d gone on that vacation with Paris and William. A vacation that hadn’t lasted long. He’d been bored out of his freaking mind within a day. Bored and more restless than ever, searching for…something.

Which might explain why he’d gone rushing to Kaia’s side the day she’d called him from jail. Which might explain his decision to act as her consort, without wanting to sign on for double occupancy. But that didn’t explain what he felt now. Possessive on a bone-deep level, protective and exhilarated.

Bottom line, he needed to be challenged to survive. Not only because the victories from those challenges fed his demon, keeping the little shit happy rather than frothing inside his mind, but also because he felt so alive. And when he was with Kaia, he wasn’t just alive, he was sizzling. Inside and out.