SOPHIA
Steam curls from the marble tub like morning mist off the lake, lavender oil turning the water milky purple. My bones feel hollow, muscles like wet paper after three days of heat that burned through me with the force of sixteen years compressed into seventy-two hours. Alcyde’s hands work shampoo through my tangled hair with infinite patience, fingertips massaging my scalp until my eyes drift closed.
“Lean back.” His voice rumbles against my spine where he sits behind me in the massive tub, my body cradled between his thighs.
Water cascades over my head as he rinses away soap and sweat and the lingering musk that still clings despite two previous washes. His thumb traces the mate mark on my throat—silver now, permanent as the moon’s blessing that runs through my blood.
“The male
