The night had fallen heavily, blanketing the ruined temple in an eerie silence, broken only by the faintest rustling of wind through the cracked stone. Ava stood at the center of the crumbled hall, the Heartstone pulsing in her palm, sending waves of warmth through her veins. It wasn't just the stone that was making her feel this way. It was the man beside her. Alexander.
His eyes never left her, dark and full of an emotion she couldn't name—desire? Concern? Or something darker? But there was no denying the undeniable tension that had settled between them since the moment they'd kissed. That kiss. The taste of him lingered on her lips, hot and fierce, like a burning memory she couldn't erase.
"Ava," Alexander's voice rumbled low, breaking the silence. "We don't have much time." His gaze flickered to the Heartstone, then back to her. "The gods are closing in. We need to move."
She nodded, but her thoughts weren't on the gods. Not completely. It was hard to focus on anything other than the electric charge between them. Her body ached with a hunger she didn't understand. The pull was too strong to ignore. Every part of her wanted to give in to the wild, untamed attraction between them. But she couldn't.
Not yet.
"I'm ready," she said, trying to mask the heat in her voice, the longing that threatened to spill over.
Alexander's lips curled into a small, knowing smile, the kind that sent shivers down her spine. He stepped closer, the distance between them closing in a way that made her breath catch. The heat from his body was suffocating, in the best way possible. "Are you, Ava? Really?" His fingers brushed lightly against her wrist, sending sparks up her arm.
Her heartbeat quickened, a nervous flutter building deep within her. She told herself to stay focused. To keep her eyes on the prize. The gods. The Heartstone. The fate of everything.
But with Alexander standing so close, it was getting harder to remember why she couldn't just let go.
His hand slid down her arm, fingers tracing the delicate curve of her skin, making every inch of her come alive with a fierce yearning. He was pulling her in, closer and closer, until their bodies were nearly pressed together. "I've never seen anyone fight their feelings as much as you," he murmured, his lips brushing the top of her ear. The warmth of his breath made her shudder, and for a second, she closed her eyes, letting the sensation take over.
"A-Alexander," she whispered, voice shaky, betraying the confusion swirling inside her. "This isn't… the time for this."
"Isn't it?" His words were a challenge, his breath hot against her neck. "Because I think the more you fight it, the harder it will be to stay in control. And let me tell you something, Ava…" His lips grazed her neck, just below her ear, sending a jolt of heat straight to her core. "The control you think you have? It's slipping away."
Her breath hitched, her hands trembling, but she still didn't pull away. She couldn't. His words were a match to the fire inside her, igniting every nerve, every inch of her body.
"You don't want to do this," she murmured, but even as she said it, she knew it was a lie. She did want it. She wanted him. She wanted everything that he was offering.
But she couldn't. Not like this. Not with the gods so close. The world was on the brink of collapse, and yet here she was, fighting an entirely different battle inside herself.
"I think you do," he said softly, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes, the heat between them palpable. "I think you've been wanting this for a long time, Ava."
The words cut through her, as if he'd peeled back every defense she'd put in place. And maybe… maybe he was right. The desire had been there, from the very beginning, just waiting to burst out. The more she resisted, the stronger it became.
"Maybe," she whispered, her voice barely audible. Her heart was racing, the blood pounding in her ears. This was wrong. But everything about this felt so right.
Without thinking, she reached up, her hands finding the back of his neck, pulling him toward her. Their lips collided in a kiss that was nothing like the first one—a kiss that was raw, urgent, and full of everything they had been holding back. The intensity of it stunned her, the pressure building, the fire between them threatening to consume everything in its path.
His hands slid to her waist, pulling her flush against him, and she could feel the strength of him, the power that radiated off his body like a magnet. She felt herself falling, spiraling into him, unable to stop. Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him closer, as if that would somehow bring her the answers she was looking for.
His lips trailed down her neck, the heat of his breath making her skin burn. Every inch of him felt like fire, like the kind of heat that she'd been craving. "Ava," he whispered between kisses, his voice low and dangerous. "I can feel it, too. The fire between us. Don't fight it."
Her body responded before her mind could catch up. She arched into him, her hands roaming, exploring, as if she had forgotten everything else—the Heartstone, the gods, the war that was coming. Nothing mattered anymore but the wild, intoxicating storm they were creating.
But just as quickly as the moment had ignited, reality came crashing back.
The ground beneath them rumbled, and Ava stiffened, pulling away from him with a sharp gasp. Her heart pounded in her chest, her mind spinning.
"I can't do this," she said, her voice raw with a mixture of need and confusion. "Not now."
Alexander stood frozen for a moment, his chest rising and falling with his heavy breaths. He looked at her, his eyes dark with desire, and there was a flicker of something else—something that made him hesitate. He nodded slowly, as if understanding. He knew. He felt it too.
"I understand," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
But just as the words left his lips, the temple trembled once again, more violently this time. The Heartstone in her hand pulsed with a dangerous glow, and a chill ran down her spine. She could feel them now—the gods. The ancient ones were here. The final battle was about to begin.
But something was different.
A shadow moved in the corner of her vision, and she turned just in time to see a figure emerging from the darkness. It was not Veyron. Not yet.
The figure was cloaked in shadows, too dark to make out. But one thing was clear: It was close. And it was coming for them.
Alexander moved to step in front of her, his protective instincts kicking in. "Stay behind me, Ava," he commanded, his tone firm.
But Ava stood her ground, her heart hammering. She didn't need protection. Not from this.
"Who's there?" she demanded, her voice steady, even as her stomach twisted with the uncertainty.
The figure stepped forward, revealing a pair of glowing eyes, too bright and too cold. And then, the voice—low, haunting, and unmistakably familiar.
"You're not ready, Ava. You never will be."