The cave air felt thicker now, heavy with iron and musk and the sharp, electric scent of their shared magic. Alex's thighs trembled where they bracketed Lucas's hips, every muscle locked tight from the effort of holding himself still while the bond pulsed between them like a second heartbeat.
Lucas's broad chest rising and falling too fast, dark fur damp with sweat and drying blood, the thick length of him buried deep inside Alex and throbbing with every ragged breath.
Neither of them moved for several long seconds. Just breathing. Just feeling.
Then Lucas's claws—retracted but still sharp—dug into the meat of Alex's hips. Not enough to break skin, just enough to say stay.
Alex exhaled shakily. "You're still hard," he whispered, almost disbelieving. "After everything."
Lucas's laugh was low, wrecked, more growl than sound. "You think I could go soft when you're sitting on me like this? When you just—" His voice cracked. "When you finally let me in?"
