The sky had deepened to a velvet indigo, stars prickling through like scattered diamonds as the group reached the hill's crest. The air was cool, carrying the sharp bite of pine and the damp musk of earth cooling after the day's heat. Arielle's body still thrummed with the aftershocks of their wild ride, her thighs tingling, her lips swollen from Lyan's kisses. She clung to his cloak, her face burning as Lara, Tara, and Sigrid's teasing shouts—"That's unfair!!!"—echoed in her ears. They saw everything, she thought, her heart racing with a mix of mortification and defiance. But I don't care. The memory of Lyan's heat, his hardness filling her, sent a fresh shiver through her, and she pressed closer to him, the slrp of their final kiss still lingering on her lips.