THE MOON HIDES MY HEART

Chapter 14: Fever

The fever struck at midnight.

I awoke consumed by heat, a stark contrast to the comforting warmth I usually felt. This was alien, wrong. My skin felt scorching, my blood sluggish, and my heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs, loud enough to echo in my ears.

"Elif."

Nikolai's voice. He was still by my side, his ice-blue eyes fixed on me.

"I'm burning," I rasped.

"I know." He placed a cool hand on my forehead. "You're on fire."

"The fire inside me—it's out of control."

He repeated the foreign word, "Out of control?"

"Yes. Out of control," I clarified, struggling to find the English words.

Without further questions, he pulled the blankets away, exposing me to the room's chill.

"Better?"

"No." A shiver ran through me, a bizarre sensation of burning and freezing simultaneously. "I don't know what's happening."

"The binding," he explained. "Your body is still acclimating to the blood of three alphas. It's fighting itself."

"How can you tell?"

"I can feel it," he said, touching his chest. "Through the bond. Your pain is my pain, remember?"

I had forgotten. Or perhaps, I had been trying to forget.

The fever intensified.

My vision blurred, my thoughts fractured. I struggled to distinguish where I ended and the consuming fire began.

"Elif. Look at me."

I tried, but his face swam in and out of focus.

"If you die—" His voice cracked. "If you die, I will go insane."

"Why?" The word was a slurred whisper. "Why do you care?"

He was silent for a long moment.

Then, "Because you're the only thing that quiets the beast inside me. Because when you touch me, the wolf stops screaming. Because I've been alone my whole life, and you're the first person who made me feel like I didn't have to be."

"Nikolai—"

"I'm not finished." His hand found mine, squeezing tightly. "I've killed men. I've done things that would make your blood run cold. I've been called a monster so many times I started to believe it. But when I'm with you—" He pressed my hand against his chest, his heart pounding. "When I'm with you, I feel human."

"Maybe you are."

"No." He shook his head. "But maybe—maybe I could learn to be. With you."

The fever spiked violently.

I gasped, arching off the bed as the fire raged through my veins, my bones, my very blood.

"Elif!"

Nikolai's hands were on me, cool, calm, and grounding.

"I need to cool you down," he said.

"How?"

He answered not with words, but with a kiss.

This kiss was different.

The first, in the library, had been a desperate, hungry thing, full of teeth and raw need.

This was soft.

His lips moved against mine with a tenderness that felt like he was trying to memorize me, as if he feared I would vanish if he pressed too hard. I melted into him. The fire within me flickered, still present, still burning, but subdued.

He pulled back.

"Better?"

"A little."

"Not enough." He looked at me, his eyes dark. "I'm going to do something. You can tell me to stop."

"I won't."

"You might."

"Try me."

He removed my shirt.

The cool air met my skin, causing my n*ppl*s to harden instantly. Nikolai's gaze traced my body with slow deliberation.

"Beautiful," he whispered. "Every inch of you."

"Stop staring."

"Never."

He lowered his head, his lips finding the spot on my neck where he had marked me. His kiss was soft at first, then deepened, his teeth grazing my skin. I gasped. His mouth traveled lower, down my collarbone, my chest. As his lips brushed the crest of my breast, the fire surged within me.

"Nikolai."

"Shh." His hands found my hips, holding me steady. "Let me."

He took my n****e into his mouth.

A cry escaped me. His tongue circled the sensitive peak with a slow, teasing motion before he began to s*ck, gently at first, then with more pressure. Waves of pleasure shot through me, reaching my core. My hands clenched in his hair. He moved to my other breast, offering it the same devoted attention. His teeth grazed the tender flesh, and I moaned.

"More," I heard myself whisper. "Please. More."

He smiled against my skin.

"Patience."

His mouth continued its descent.

Past my ribs, my stomach. His lips traced the curve of my hip bone, and a shiver ran through me.

"Lift your hips," he instructed.

I complied. He removed my underwear, tossing it somewhere across the room. Then, he spread my legs. Embarrassment should have seized me, I should have closed myself off, told him to stop. But the fever still burned, and his eyes were so dark.

"Beautiful," he murmured again. "Even here."

"Nikolai."

He lowered his head.

His tongue found me.

I screamed. Not a Balancer's scream, but a woman's, primal and raw, erupting from a place I didn't know existed. He licked me slowly, deliberately, as if savoring something precious. His tongue circled my cl*t, flicked, then circled again. My hips bucked involuntarily. His hands pressed them back down.

"Stay still," he murmured against my skin.

"I can't—"

"You can."

He licked me again, deeper this time. His tongue slid inside me, and stars exploded behind my eyes.

"Oh god—"

"No god here," his voice was rough. "Just me."

He increased the pace, his fingers joining his tongue, sliding inside me, stretching me, filling me. The pleasure built, escalating higher and higher.

"I'm going to—"

"Not yet."

"Nikolai—"

"Not. Yet."

He was cruel. Deliciously, wonderfully cruel. He brought me to the precipice again and again, only to pull back. Each time I thought I'd fall, he would slow down, tease, torment.

"Please," I begged. "Please, Nikolai, I can't—"

"You can."

"I can't—"

"You can." He looked up at me, his chin wet, his eyes blazing. "You can take everything I give you. And you're going to beg for more."

"Yes."

"Say it."

"I'll beg. I'll beg for more. Just—please—"

He lowered his head again.

And this time, he didn't stop.

The orgasm crashed over me like a tidal wave. I screamed his name, my body convulsing, my nails raking the sheets. The fire within me exploded—not in destruction, but in pure, overwhelming, mind-shattering pleasure. He didn't stop, continuing to lick me through it, drawing out every last shudder, every last gasp. When I finally collapsed, he crawled up my body and kissed me. I tasted myself on his lips.

"Now," he said. "I'm going to f*ck you."

"Yes."

He flipped me over. My hands gripped the headboard, my knees spread wide. He positioned himself behind me, his chest against my back, his lips against my ear.

"Tell me to stop."

"Don't stop."

"Tell me you want this."

"I want this. I want you. I want—"

He pushed inside me. I gasped. He was thicker than I remembered, deeper, filling me completely, stretching me, claiming me.

"Mine," he growled.

He pulled out. Pushed back in.

"Mine."

Another thrust.

"Mine."

Another.

"Mine."

He f*ck*d me hard. Each thrust drove me forward, my hands sliding against the headboard, my nails leaving marks in the wood. He grabbed my hair, not roughly, but possessively, and pulled my head back.

"Look at me."

I turned my head. His eyes were human now, warm, brown. Mine.

"Say my name."

"Nikolai."

"Again."

"Nikolai."

"Again."

"Nikolai, Nikolai, Nikolai—"

He kissed me, a messy, desperate kiss, his hips never ceasing their rhythm. The pleasure built again, faster this time, harder.

"I'm close," I gasped.

"Wait."

"I can't—"

"Wait for me."

I tried, truly tried. But then his hand slid between my legs. His fingers found my cl*t, circling it in time with his thrusts, and I shattered. I screamed his name as I came. He followed a moment later, his body tensing, his teeth sinking into my shoulder as he spilled inside me. We collapsed together.

He pulled out gently, rolled onto his back, and drew me against his chest. My entire body was trembling. The fever was gone. The fire was quiet. And for the first time since the binding, I felt peace.

"Now we're both cursed," Nikolai said quietly.

"What?"

He kissed the top of my head.

"Now we're both cursed," he repeated. "Because I can't live without you. And you can't live without me. And that's not love, Elif. That's addiction."

"Maybe it's both."

"Maybe." He held me tighter. "Maybe."

We lay in silence. His heart beat a slow, steady, calm rhythm beneath my ear.

"Stay," he said.

"I'm already here."

"Stay forever."

"Nikolai—"

"I know." He sighed. "I know. But let me pretend. Just for tonight."

I closed my eyes and let him pretend.

A knock came at dawn. Three sharp raps on the door. Urgent. Wrong. Nikolai sat up instantly, his body tensing, his eyes flashing gold.

"What?"

Kael's voice came through the door. "Nikolai. Open up."

"What is it?"

A pause. Then: "It's Boris. Your brother."

Nikolai was out of bed before Kael finished speaking, pulling on his pants and shirt, his hands shaking.

"What about Boris?"

Another pause.

"Someone killed him."

The room turned cold. Not the cold of winter, but the cold of death. Nikolai stood frozen at the door, his back to me, but I could see his shoulders shaking.

"Who?"

"We don't know yet. But his body was found in the forest. His throat was torn out."

Nikolai didn't move.

"Human teeth," Kael added quietly. "The wound was made by human teeth."

My blood ran cold. Human teeth. Like the mark on Nikolai's shoulder. Like the wolf at my window.

"Elif." Kael's voice was careful now. "The Headmaster is asking for you."

"Why?"

"Because Boris was asking about your mother before he died."