The desert had never been so quiet.
Moonlight stretched across the dunes like silk pulled tight, softening the sharp edges of stone and shadow. The night air cooled against sweat-damp skin, but neither of them reached for warmth.
They had made enough of it between them.
Xiuhcoatl lay still, one arm behind his head, the other tracing the curve of Sofia’s spine with slow, deliberate strokes. His fingers moved like they were memorizing, like he couldn’t quite believe she was real.
Her skin was flushed, her lips still parted. Their breaths rose and fell together—quiet, even, steady.
He closed his eyes and let it sink into him—this impossible peace. A girl made of blood and moonlight. A bond that had split him open and stitched him back together in the same breath.
“You were born for this
