A shadow slid up my chest, coiled around my throat like silk. I shivered. "Okay," I rasped, grinning even as the air tightened, "kinky. Combat scenario or… very intense audition for my fantasies?"
She landed beside me, crouched low, sweat carving a line down her cheek. Her eyes glinted like a blade catching starlight. A flick of her fingers, sharp, deliberate, and the vines constricted. I groaned. Louder than I needed to. Dramatic. Obnoxious. Absolutely unbothered. "Oh gods, tie me harder, why don't you? Bring the shadows in too. Let's make it a theme."
The shadows obeyed. Of course they did. They curled tighter around my legs, possessive, like they were smug about it. I thunked my head back against the ground and laughed like a man who deserved everything happening to him. "Valkyrie, keep this up and I'm going to start calling you 'yes, mistress.'"
She didn't smile. But her mouth twitched. Just enough. "Annie," I murmured, voice dipping low, roughened by want, "you need to understand something very important."
She raised a brow. "This is the hottest you've ever been in your entire life."
Her eyes rolled, but the vines stayed. Shadows stayed. My pulse didn't. I exhaled, letting chaos crackle under my skin like a caged storm. Barely holding. For her. "And just for the record, I was already in love with you. But now?" My voice dropped to reverent ruin. "Now I'm considering shrines. Thrones. Possibly a very private dungeon."
The vines slid higher. Tightened. I moaned on purpose. "Ohhh yes. Punish me with botany."
Her gaze flicked to my lips, then to the vines cinched across my chest. A pause. A decision. She kissed me. Hard. Fast. Ruthless. Not soft. Not a question. A command. A collision. I gasped into it, her mouth bruising, her hands dragging into my hair, her body anchoring me like gravity had finally picked a side. The vines constricted. The shadows pulsed. I kissed her back like I'd dreamed of this. While she slept on my chest, while she stole my coffee, while she broke my ribs in training and grinned about it. Her fingers slid beneath my collar, nails scraping skin. I growled into her mouth. "You have no idea what you're doing to me."
She pulled back, smirked, and mouthed: Oh yes, I do.
Then kissed me again. Slower. Worse. Better. Her hands slipped under my shirt, reverent and greedy, and I arched into her like a starving man. "I swear," I gasped, "if you use vines on me again, I'll propose."
She dragged her nails down my chest. Shadows bound my wrists above my head. I whimpered. Yes, whimpered. "Oh gods, yes. This is why we don't train more often. I'm going to develop a kink for violence."
She rolled her hips against mine. Dared me to deny it. "You already have one," she mouthed.
"Okay, fair," I panted. "But I didn't know I had this one." The vines tugged at my waistband. "Annie," I whispered, voice breaking, "this is dangerously close to me begging."
Her tongue brushed my throat.
"Okay. I'm begging. Please." She kissed her way down my chest. Slow. Intentional. Cruel in the most exquisite way. Chaos bent around her. My chaos. My signature. Except it wasn't mine anymore. It hummed under her skin like it belonged there. "Oh gods," I gasped, arching. "You're using my own reality against me."
Her mouth hovered at my stomach. Her shadows pulsed in rhythm with my heart. I looked down at her, breathless, wrecked, ruined. Hers. "I love you," I rasped. "But we're gonna need a safe word that isn't 'more.' Because it's not working."
She smiled. Bit my hip. I howled. "Yes! Marry me right now! I'll officiate it myself—" The vines slid lower. Shadows flexed like they'd learned my favorite shivers.
I was about to make an extremely inappropriate comment about plant-based intimacy when—
"Privacy protocol engaged," Arbor's voice droned in my head from nowhere. "Containment bubble activated. Carry on."
I dropped my head back with a groan. "I hate you."
"You're welcome," Arbor replied cheerfully. "Please water the vines afterward."
Annie didn't laugh. She didn't need to. Her eyes burned, half-lidded, blazing. Shadows throbbed with her heartbeat. The vines moved again. Slow. Deliberate. Knowing. I swallowed hard. "Annie," I whispered, reverent and wrecked, "I really, really hope you know what you're doing."
She mouthed: I do.
Then kissed me again, slow and possessive, her body pressed into mine like a secret she was finally done keeping. My shirt vanished, ripped away like it had insulted her. I'd never been stripped like a gift before. Every god… I wanted to be opened.
The shadows wrapped tighter around my wrists. Vines slid along my thighs, curling at the waistband of my pants, curious, teasing, almost gentle. Then her hand joined them. No ceremony. No hesitation. She touched me like I belonged to her. Because I did. I arched under her, a laugh ripping out of me that turned ragged halfway through. Wrecked. "Stars, if this is divine punishment, I'll sin again."
She didn't answer. She just kissed lower, chest, stomach, slow, deliberate burns across my skin. The vines shifted, sliding beneath my hips, lifting me slightly. Like an offering. That was it. That was when clever left the building. Time went strange. Seconds stretched, minutes folded. My magic sparked uncontrolled, lighting up the chamber like fireworks behind my ribs. She moved over me like worship. Like she was rewriting my very divinity with every touch, every press of her body against mine.
I tried to speak, she silenced me with her mouth. I tried to move, the vines refused. I tried to remember I was the god of chaos. I forgot. Because in that moment, I wasn't a god. I was hers.
When she finally sank down onto me, the world didn't explode. It aligned. She was always perfect. So tight and wet. Her hands braced on my chest, her breath shaky but steady, her pace controlled, measured, devastatingly powerful. I watched her, head spinning, body burning, half-convinced eternity had just relocated to my bed. The shadows framed her like a crown. The vines curled up her thighs like worshippers. I moaned, raw, helpless, absolutely undone. "You are going to destroy me."
She smirked. Then rocked her hips again. Stars detonated behind my eyes. Arbor dimmed the lights. Traitor. The rhythm built in waves, vines pulsing, shadows tightening, my magic surging every time she moaned. Time cracked, space hummed, the world bent toward her gravity. One vine coiled around my throat. Not choking, just there. A reminder. Every exhale, it tightened. Every thrust, it loosened. She controlled my breath the way she controlled my body. Unholy chaos, I thanked her for it.
I was unraveling. Completely. She was watching. Like it pleased her. Like she was proud of the ruin she'd made. When we came together, breathless and burning, the vines bloomed, flowers, wild and chaotic, bursting open in a shockwave of gold and violet light.
Still, she didn't let go. She stayed pressed to me, forehead to forehead, eyes locked. No words. Just knowing. Her hand brushed down my chest, gentle now, smoothing the edges she'd carved raw. "You okay?" she mouthed.
I blinked, dazed, ruined. "I can see eternity." She raised a brow. "It looks like your thighs."
Her laugh, silent, shaking through both of us, felt like mercy. The vines curled around us, nest-like. Magic still hummed in the air, lazy now, exhaling. I lay flat, chest heaving like I'd survived a war, wrists still bound, hair an absolute disaster. She was draped over me, cheek against my neck, exhaling like she'd just exorcised a demon through chaos and sex. She looked at peace. I looked like I'd seen god, and she'd tied me up. Which was… accurate.
I blinked at the ceiling. The vines pulsed smugly overhead. "Okay," I croaked. "So that happened."
She hummed, satisfied, still touching me like I was hers. "I mean, I knew you were hot," I rambled, "but I didn't know you were shatter-my-spine-with-botany and bend-space-time-around-my-soul hot."
No response. Just another hum. Another stroke of her hand down my ribs. Which made sense. She owned me now. That's how it worked. I stared into the middle distance, ruined. Legs jelly. Magic misfiring. Soul kissed into submission. I was a god. A chaos god. Yet, somehow, I'd just been spiritually, physically, and probably anatomically dominated by a woman who couldn't even speak out loud.
"Annie."
She lifted her head, brow arched. I looked at her, all glowing, dangerous, wrecking me with every smirk, and whispered, "I'm going to need a minute to reprocess my entire identity."
She smirked. My heart did that stupid thing again. I trailed a finger down her arm. "You broke me." She nodded. "On purpose." Another nod. "I'm not even mad." She shrugged, utterly unbothered, and tucked herself closer. The vines hugged us tighter, smug little bastards. "Gods," I sighed dramatically, "this is going to ruin me. I'm going to start asking to be choked during training. Arbor's going to judge me. My enemies are going to find out." She rolled her eyes. I leaned to her ear, whispering against her skin, "…My worshipers are going to be so confused."
Her laugh, silent, trembling against my ribs, was the best sound I'd ever not heard. "I mean it," I whispered. "I can't go back to normal now. You've officially corrupted me." She brushed my hair back, mouthed: You were already corrupted.
I grinned, teeth flashing."Yeah. But now I'm corrupted better."