Annie downed that wine like she was bracing for war, and by the time the goblet hit the table, I knew I was in trouble. Not mortal trouble. Not divine trouble. Worse, Annie trouble. She came at me in my own face, eyes gleaming like twin blades. Inches away, smirk curling just so. It was uncanny. Horrifying. Exhilarating. And then she bit her bottom lip. With my bottom lip. I nearly combusted.
"You know…" she purred, my voice dipped into a sultry growl I'd never managed myself, "you were even hotter up close. I had been watching you all day, so powerful, so dramatic. All that tension in your jaw? The way your coat swishes when you walked? You were like forbidden wine and sin wrapped in a suit. You made me want to misbehave."
My soul? Gone. Left my body, wrote a resignation letter, and joined a monastery. "Annie—" I croaked.
She didn't stop. Of course she didn't. She circled me like a predator stalking prey, trailing her finger down my chest, tapping each button with maddening precision. "Tell me, God of Chaos," she murmured, my own voice dripping like molten honey, "did you ever get tired of being so devastatingly gorgeous?"
My throat closed. My brain stuttered. "Annie."
She leaned in until our noses brushed, her hand sliding into my hair, my hair, and I swear to every god, it was illegal how good she was at being me.
"Because if I looked like this all the time," she whispered, "I would never wear clothes again. I would just walk around basking in the awe of everyone around me. What was it like being this irresistible? Were you exhausted by the constant sexual energy?"
I made a noise. Not dignified. Not divine. A broken whimper that belonged to a man undone. "I. I am. You—" Words? Never heard of them.
And then she whispered it. "Do you want me to call you Daddy, Malvor?"
Lightning. Straight to my chest. My knees gave out. I collapsed onto the couch like a sinner receiving judgment, hands limp, eyes wide, soul obliterated. I whimpered. Whimpered. She just stood there. Wearing my face. Smiling like the devil finally got his chaos.
"Arbor!" My poor traitorous house, I barked the command like a drowning man flailing for rope. "Change her back! Change her back right now! I can't take this. I am too pretty for this kind of emotional warfare!"
I heard it, my laugh. Deep. Cocky. Utterly delighted. Except it wasn't me. It was her. Wearing my face. Wearing my voice. Chaos preserve me. "Oh, sweet hells," I groaned into my hands. "I just got seduced by myself. And I liked it."
"Of course you did," she smirked, my smirk, sharper, filthier. "You're exactly your type."
I peeked through my fingers. "Annie…"She, me, was straddling the line between hilarious and ruinously hot, and I was falling face-first into the abyss.
She leaned in, taller in my form, brushing her nose down the line of my jaw with that lazy confidence I normally reserved for breaking hearts. "Malvor," she purred in my voice, "you said only good girls get what they want. But what about very, very bad gods?"
I groaned aloud, helpless. "You look like me, Annie! This is sick! This is twisted!" My hands hovered at her hips, traitorous. "And it's perfect."
She grinned wider, grinding her hips just enough to short-circuit what remained of my sanity. "Don't you want to be ruined by yourself, my Lord of Chaos?"
The sound I made wasn't divine. It wasn't even dignified. It was a whimper. That's when she tugged on the bond. Heat jolted through me, curling low and sharp, my body bucking under hers before I could stop it. "Annie—!"
She bit my lip hard enough to sting, then soothed it with a lick. "I am you," she whispered. "Which means I know every filthy thought rattling around in that ridiculous skull." Every grind, every tease, was perfectly calibrated, because who knew me better than me? And gods, she used it. Each pulse through the bond left me trembling harder, unraveling faster.
"Wrong?" she whispered sweetly when I choked on a moan. "You mean the part where you're about to come undone under your own face? Or the part where you're going to thank me for it?"
I broke. My legs fell open, body begging like it hadn't in centuries. "Please."
She froze. Smiled slow and devastating. "Oh, Malvor," she purred, brushing her thumb across my trembling lips. "You are so much prettier when you're ruined."
She kissed me, and gods, she didn't stop. Not when my hands trembled in hers. Not when I melted into her mouth, into her skin, into the bond that wrapped around me like wildfire and silk. Not even when I gasped, hoarse, broken, "You ruined me."
Her smile curved against my lips, devastating. "Good," she whispered. Before swallowing me whole with another kiss. Deeper. Slower. Like she was carving her name into the ruins of me, branding herself across every broken, beautiful shard I'd tried to keep hidden.
I had never, never, felt anything like it. Not the expected lust of worshippers. Not obligation dressed as intimacy. Not duty disguised as pleasure. This wasn't worship. This wasn't service. This was possession. This was want. This was a holy desecration of my soul. Her mouth dragged down my throat, teeth grazing the frantic pulse hammering there. A bite. A lick. A kiss. Soothing and claiming in the same breath. Her hands roamed me with a reverence that burned. Stroking ribs, pressing into hips, trailing down trembling thighs. Every touch lit fires beneath my skin. And the bond, gods, the bond... She flooded me with it all: hunger, adoration, reckless joy.
Mine, the bond whispered. Mine. Mine. Mine.
Not a request. Not a plea. Truth. A sound broke out of me, raw, unguarded, a sob torn too deep for pride to smother. Her kisses marked me lower, across ribs and stomach, each one reverberating in caverns inside me I hadn't even known were there. When her hand wrapped around my length, steady, commanding, mercilessly kind. I choked, hips jerking helplessly into her grip.
"That's it," she purred in my ear, velvet and sin. "Let go for me, my chaos."
I was gone. Wrecked. Undone. But she wasn't finished with me. Her hand worked me slow, merciless, every stroke dragging me closer to the edge while the bond thrummed tighter, weaving heat and hunger into my veins. My hips jerked helplessly, begging for more, and she only smiled like a predator savoring prey. Then she crawled up my body, and I froze. Because it wasn't her face above me. It was mine. My golden eyes staring back, my tattoos shifting with desire, my smirk curved into something filthy. She straddled me as me, and gods, it was wrong, wrong and obscene and the hottest thing I had ever seen.
The bond went feral, a triple helix snapping tight, hers, mine, and the reflection of myself staring down at me with hunger I'd never admit. I felt her need, my need, and the loop of it folding in on itself until I didn't know where she ended and I began.
"You are so beautiful when you break," She whispered, my own voice dripping sin against my ear. Her, me, bent down, kissing along my jaw, my temple, my cheekbone, branding me with every press of lips. I whimpered. High. Broken. And the sound of it from my own mouth nearly undid me. She laughed, my laugh. She sank down onto me, onto my cock. Taking me in with a stretch so tight I nearly lost it right then. Magic slicked her open, the bond ensuring she could take me. My back arched, a ragged cry tearing out of me as I watched my own body ride me, golden eyes half-lidded, mouth open, a mirror of my own pleasure. The bond screamed with it, feeding me her hunger, my hunger, ours twisted together until I couldn't tell whose desire burned hotter.
She, me, moved slow at first, rolling hips with obscene control, every inch a torment. I gripped her thighs, nails digging in, not sure if I was worshiping her or myself. Both. Chaos, both. When she dropped harder, faster, riding me deep, I saw stars, vision going white around the edges. The bond blew wide open, a circuit sparking too hot, too bright. Hunger and adoration, possession and surrender, mine, hers, ours, echoing, overlapping, spiraling into something unbearable and holy
When I shattered, when she wrung me dry, I came deep in her with a desperate cry, hoarse and loud, my name and hers tangled together in reverent filth. Chaos seared through me, holy desecration, too much, everything. I sobbed into my own mouth as she kissed me through it, through every shudder, every helpless grasp of the sheets when I couldn't hold on to anything else. She didn't let go. Not when I whimpered. Not when I sagged, boneless and ruined. My face, her face, pressed a kiss to my forehead, soft and sealing. A blessing. A brand. I was hers. And gods help me, I wanted it exactly that way.
When the aftershocks faded, when my chest finally stopped heaving, I realized it: I had been claimed. And I had never felt freer. We woke tangled in silk, her hair in my mouth, her body pressed to mine. I stirred first, groggy and too warm, but the weight of her against me snapped me awake. My arm slid instinctively around her waist. I buried my face into the crook of her neck. Mine, the bond purred. Mine.
She stretched like a cat, deliberately rubbing against me. I whimpered into her skin. She was trying to kill me. "Morning, Mally," she whispered, smug and soft.
"If this is a dream," I muttered, clutching her tighter, "I'll kill whoever wakes me."
She laughed, bright, delighted, genuine. The sound warmed something in me that had never been touched before. "You are most welcome," she teased.
I pressed a kiss to her shoulder, reverent. "Next time, less ego death," I murmured.
She reached back blindly, patted my thigh. "Next time, you can be the pretty one."
Chaos above, I laughed. I couldn't stop. I traced lazy circles down her spine and whispered into her hair, softer than I ever thought I could be:
"You're the other side of my coin, Annie. Fire and fury. Trickery and truth. Together… priceless. Volatile. Guaranteed to ruin someone's day."
Hopefully Aerion's. Again. She snorted, but nestled deeper into me. I didn't joke. Didn't hide. Just breathed with her, hearts in sync, the bond humming like music between us. Even Arbor dimmed the lights, as if the house knew. This moment deserved to last.