That memory flashed through Destiny’s mind right as she fired.

  “I doubt Rhans’ Jujisn died,” she’d said without hesitation. “If they’re anything like me, survival is the least of their talents. Plus we met once and I see no harm in meeting again.”

  Jamal’s brow had furrowed. “So… this other event-level Jujisn—stronger than you or nah?”

  Crisper had added without even looking away, “And don’t dodge the question. Who’s stronger—Rhans’ Jujisn, the event Jujisn… or you?”

  Destiny’s golden eyes had glinted, and that small, knowing smile had curved her lips. “An Unraveling isn’t… strength, exactly. It’s the realm reacting to two entities existing where only one should. A… disruption.”

  Jamal had nodded slowly. “A paradox.”

  She’d given him an approving look. “Exactly.” Then she’d leaned back slightly, letting it settle before she added, “As for strength…”

  Her smile had widened just a touch.

  “There aren’t many Supreme Jujisns. Even if this one truly came from a King, I believe I can beat them. I would wager I’m the strongest.”

  Jamal had whistled low. “Confidence through the roof, huh?”

  “Confidence,” Destiny had corrected smoothly, “tempered by experience.”

  Now, as her attack screamed through the air toward North—

  Destiny didn’t intend to be proven wrong.

  North dipped to the side to dodge the shot—

  But Destiny twisted her fingers.

  And the light curved.

  His eyes widened a fraction as the attack came back around like it had a mind of its own. He crossed his arms at the last second—

  Impact.

  The force slammed into him and launched him through two houses like they were paper walls, wood and stone exploding outward as he carved a straight line through someone’s abandoned life.

  Destiny exhaled.

  “That took…” she muttered under her breath, shoulders rising with the strain. “…a lot of energy.”

  A fight right now wasn’t worth—

  She stopped.

  Her breath caught.

  North was standing in front of her.

  No warp she saw.

  No travel line.

  Just—

  There.

  Her eyes widened.

  Before she could react, his fist connected.

  Destiny went flying through buildings, golden aura flaring in a violent burst as walls shattered around her. She rolled across broken floorboards and cracked tile, coughing as dust and blood filled her lungs.

  She pushed herself up—

  And North dropped from above.

  Destiny lifted her hands, already forming the next attack—

  But it didn’t happen.

  Nothing formed.

  Nothing gathered.

  Her aura flickered like it had forgotten how to obey.

  That feeling crept up again.

  That wrongness.

  That loss.

  Destiny’s stomach turned.

  She flipped out of the way just in time—

  The area behind her exploded, as red-black lightning detonation chewed through the ground like it was alive.

  Her eyes widened.

  The fact he still had this much energy was impressive.

  Insane, even.

  But Destiny wasn’t lesser.

  Her lips curled into a grin, blood at the corner of her mouth, golden eyes sharp with challenge.

  She flared her aura.

  North zigzagged in, lightning snapping around him—

  Destiny slammed her palm to the ground.

  Golden spikes erupted upward in jagged rows, spearing toward him. North dipped and dodged, moving through them, then sprang into the air to clear the final burst.

  Destiny tracked him and raised her hand to blast—

  North fired first.

  Black-red lightning detonated out of his palm like a cannon, a beam that wasn’t just power but anger with structure.

  Destiny threw up a shield.

  The collision shook the street.

  The shockwave rolled outward, ripping the ground apart and making nearby homes collapse in delayed crashes. Windows burst. Roofs buckled. The air rang like a bell struck too hard.

  North landed and turned his head slightly, checking the direction of the house where everyone was gathered.

  Out of range.

  Good.

  Because he was so mad he couldn’t control himself.

  And she kept trying to control him. Kept trying to tell him what to do. Like he was some weapon she could point and scold back into place.

  Wasn’t happening.

  She wasn’t respecting him?

  Fine.

  Then he would demand it.

  Dominance.

  That was the goal.

  North’s eyes burned as he lunged forward.

  ———

  Tabia threw up a coral barrier around the house the moment another shockwave rattled the street.

  A translucent wall of hardened reef-light shimmered into place, shielding the townhouse from the chaos outside.

  “…Are they insane?” Tabia hissed.

  Ozzy let out a long sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose beneath his blindfold. “People express grief differently.”

  Tabia’s jaw tightened. “Captain—”

  “Besides,” Ozzy added, tone calm despite everything, “if it gets too out of hand… I’ll step in.”

  “But Captain—”

  “It’s fine, my little T,” Ozzy said with a tired grin. “I’m injured, but not out.”

  Then he turned his head toward Crisper.

  “How do you feel about all this?”

  Crisper nearly jumped. “Huh?!” she gasped.

  Ozzy chuckled. “Them fighting.”

  Crisper stared through the window for a second, then exhaled hard. “It’s stupid. And it might draw attention, but I…”

  Ozzy leaned in. “But what?”

  Crisper hesitated. “…I guess it’s needed.”

  Ozzy’s brow lifted. “Oh?”

  Crisper kept going, voice low. “Those two have an odd history. Being clones and what not. Also there’s… something off.”

  Ozzy’s face brightened like he’d just been handed a gift.

  “Awww,” he beamed. “So you sense it too!”

  Tabia didn’t smile.

  She just watched the street.

  ————

  Outside, Destiny and North were still fighting—

  But slower now.

  Like their bodies were moving through mud.

  And their abilities weren’t the same.

  North’s lightning didn’t carry the usual status effects anymore. The extra layers he used to leave on autopilot—the weapons, the flow, the effortless stacking—weren’t piloting anymore.

  Destiny wasn’t any better.

  She could still feel her abilities.

  But the ones that came by instinct—the ones that showed up without thought, the ones her body just knew how to do—weren’t there either.

  It was almost as if they’d been reset.

  Both of them.

  Both stripped down to almost the basics…

  They stood across from each other now—each on a different rooftop—breathing hard, staring like they were trying to remember who they were supposed to be.

  North’s black hooded cape snapped in the night wind, his dark attire blending into the ruined skyline like he belonged to it.

  Sunrise was coming.

  Slowly.

  The three suns began to cast strange layered light over the town, painting Destiny in gold like a myth refusing to die.

  Blonde hair.

  Golden eyes.

  Still in that hoodie and shorts like the world hadn’t just ended around them.

  The image struck North—harder than any punch.

  For a split second it almost reminded him of when they Ascended together.

  For a split second… it almost made him relax.

  But he couldn’t.

  This anger.

  This drive.

  It was consuming him.

  And she wanted to be the outlet?

  Fine.

  Even if he wasn’t at a hundred percent.

  Even if his moveset was dissolving.

  Even if the world itself felt like it was rewriting the rules mid-fight.

  He wasn’t even sure what he was trying to prove anymore.

  Only that he had to keep swinging until something in him finally broke, or finally made sense.

  Destiny’s voice cut through the wind.

  “We should stop. Continuing won’t—”

  “Scared you’ll lose?” North shot back instantly.

  Destiny blinked. “What?!”

  “Scared?” He snapped. “I know Vari is a big sore loser but—”

  “I’m not Vari,” she said, breathing hard, “just like you’re not Jafar but—”

  “Oh, now I’m not Jafar?” His lip curled. “Any other time you had no problem calling me —“

  Destiny’s jaw tightened.

  “This is stupid.”

  “Then why are you fighting back?” North asked.

  Destiny froze.

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  She stared at him.

  Then her shoulders dipped, just slightly—like she’d been holding something up by force and it finally got heavy.

  “Yeah…” she muttered. “I can’t answer that right now.”

  Her eyes softened, just enough to make North pause.

  “This is stupid,” she admitted. “But… I don’t know…”

  She couldn’t say why she was fighting.

  She couldn’t say why she even cared about this idiot so much.

  Some of it was Vari.

  But now that she’d moved past that—

  How much of her actually wanted this?

  How much of her wanted him to survive?

  Destiny exhaled and stepped into a fighting stance.

  North smiled and took a loose boxing pose, shoulders rolling like he was warming up for a spar, not a breakdown.

  “Don’t cry when I kick your ass,” Destiny cooed.

  North laughed.

  “History isn’t repeating itself.”

  Destiny jumped off the roof, eyes glowing like twin furnaces.

  North’s muscles tensed—ready to react—

  But she didn’t rush him.

  She flicked her hand.

  And a swarm of miniature golden blades—shot out like a constellation breaking apart.

  North snapped his arm up and blocked with lightning, sparks cracking across his forearms—

  But the daggers weren’t meant to pierce.

  They detonated.

  Each one exploded on impact, popping like small suns against his guard. The blasts staggered him and sent him crashing down into the house beneath him, roof caving in around his body.

  Wood splintered.

  Dust swallowed him.

  North coughed once and pushed up—

  And a foot met his jaw.

  The kick snapped his head sideways and launched him back out through the broken wall and into the street, where he skidded across stone and debris.

  He tried to fire back—

  A blast. A bolt. Anything—

  But a thin line of light caught his wrist mid-motion.

  Then another came for his other wrist.

  Two luminous tethers wrapped him like hooks and yanked—

  North tore through two more buildings, crashing through brick and support beams until he tumbled out the other side like a rag doll.

  He gritted his teeth, blood tasting like copper.

  “…Okay,” he muttered, while being dragged again.

  Now she was showing off.

  His eyes pulsed.

  Sigils rotated tighter.

  He remembered what she said—about aura. About precision. About flowing it properly.

  Fine.

  Then he’d use that knowledge against her.

  North flared his aura—but this time, he didn’t launch power wildly.

  He threaded it.

  Aimed it.

  His aura crawled along the golden lines like a parasite—attacking the structure, the connection—

  The tethers snapped.

  Destiny’s glow flickered for half a beat.

  North didn’t waste it.

  He surged forward, boots cracking pavement, and vanished mid-stride.

  Destiny didn’t panic.

  She shot upward, wings unfurling as she flew into the air—creating distance, buying space—

  But North appeared above her.

  Like space itself had been forced to admit he was already there.

  Destiny threw her wings up to block—

  North slammed down, using her guard as a surface instead of an obstacle, flipping off the impact like it was a springboard.

  Then he came back down again—

  Lightning wrapped around his foot like a hammer head.

  He drove it into her.

  The hit detonated.

  Both of them crashed through the roof of another home and kept going—plowing through floors like falling meteors—

  Second floor.

  First floor.

  Foundation.

  All the way into the basement.

  Concrete shattered.

  Dust filled the air.

  And for a moment, everything went silent except the faint crackle of red lightning crawling over North’s body as he rose from the crater, breathing hard, eyes burning.

  Gravity yanked him upward—an invisible hand trying to fling him into the ceiling and pin him there.

  But North pulsed his aura.

  A sharp, ugly burst.

  And the gravity stuttered, disrupted just long enough for him to regain control mid-rise.

  He didn’t realize until too late…

  That disruption was part of Destiny’s plan.

  The moment he stood still—just one second—

  Destiny was gone.

  A golden blur darting around him in tight circles while throwing blasts from impossible angles—small, compressed detonations meant to bruise, stagger, and force his guard to break.

  North threw up a crimson barrier instinctively.

  A wall of red-black lightning snapping into place around him like a shell.

  But Destiny expected it.

  Her wings folded tight as she slipped through the barrier’s timing, her aura bending at the edge like a blade sliding into a seam.

  She was already inside before his mind fully registered how.

  North’s eyes widened.

  Then Destiny exploded.

  Not outward like a bomb—

  Into light.

  Her body flared into a blinding, radiant burst meant to overload perception, scorch the senses, and erase reaction time.

  But North had been waiting for that moment.

  His sigils rotated hard.

  The space around them warped—twisting, bending, flipping directions like someone grabbed the room and turned it sideways. Up became left. Left became forward. Distance turned into a sick joke.

  Destiny staggered mid-motion, golden eyes widening in shock.

  “What—”

  North smiled and then lunged forward to take advantage—

  But Destiny recovered instantly.

  She met him head-on.

  And suddenly it wasn’t beams or tricks.

  It was hands.

  North swung first—fast and heavy, red lightning curling around his forearm as he tried to smash through her guard.

  Destiny caught the strike with her palm, aura condensing in the space between their hands like a cushion made of pressure. She pivoted, redirected the force, and drove her knee into his ribs.

  North grunted, twisting away, snapping a backfist toward her temple.

  Destiny ducked under it, hair whipping across her face, then slammed the heel of her hand into his sternum—just enough to stagger him without giving him the satisfaction of a clean hit.

  North tried to grab her shoulder—

  Destiny twisted, slipped free, and struck twice:

  A jab to the throat.

  A punch to the jaw.

  North’s head snapped back, blood flicking from his lip.

  He tried to return fire with a lightning-coated elbow—

  Destiny blocked with her forearm, the impact ringing through the basement like a bell. She didn’t just withstand it—she answered it, grabbing his wrist and pulling him off balance.

  North’s boots scraped the concrete as he fought for footing.

  Destiny didn’t give it to him.

  She stepped in close, drove her shoulder into his chest, and sent him stumbling backward.

  North snarled and surged forward again, swinging harder now, aiming to overwhelm—

  But Destiny had the advantage.

  Not in raw power.

  In control.

  In experience.

  In the way she never wasted motion.

  Every time North attacked, Destiny was already moving to the next position. Every time he tried to dominate the pace, she redirected it like he was fighting a river.

  North’s fist shot toward her face—

  Destiny caught it.

  Her fingers wrapped around his knuckles, and her aura tightened like a vice.

  Then she spun.

  A smooth pivot.

  North’s feet left the ground.

  His body slammed into the wall hard enough to crack it, dust bursting outward as the impact shook the ruined house above them.

  He slid down a foot, coughing.

  Destiny stood over him, breathing steady, eyes glowing—not triumphant, not cruel.

  Just… tired.

  North grinned while bleeding.

  It wasn’t much blood. Not enough to trigger a full-on Jafar memory film. But the thought still flickered through him—quiet and bitter.

  Would I still get those… if I bled too much?

  Smack.

  His head snapped slightly from the hit.

  “Ow.”

  Destiny stood over him with her arms crossed like the fight had been decided three minutes ago.

  “I win.”

  North’s grin didn’t fade.

  “Did you?”

  Destiny’s golden eyes narrowed. “I’m standing and you’re—”

  He tried to trip her.

  Tried.

  His foot slid. His timing was off. His hand didn’t catch the angle he wanted.

  He failed.

  They just stared at each other for a long second.

  North raised both hands up in surrender, palms open.

  “Fine. In typical Jujisn battle fashion…” He huffed. “I concede.”

  Destiny blinked. “Huh?”

  North nodded like this was normal.

  “Tinsurnae did the same thing when I won.”

  Destiny’s brow rose higher. “Surprised you beat him… or her… in general, I’m surprised.”

  “Ouch.” North pressed a hand to his ribs. “I’m not that bad.”

  Destiny laughed, “Honestly,” she said, voice rich with mock elegance, “I’m surprised those ships didn’t kill thee, if that is thy fighting style. Hast thou forgotten how to use Ryun?!”

  North stared at her like she’d grown a second head.

  “…Why are you talking like that?”

  Destiny shrugged. “You know I slip into that cadence.”

  “No,” North said slowly, “never that heavy. That’s like real Shakespeare dialogue.”

  Destiny’s smile faltered.

  Her eyes lowered, and for the first time she looked uncertain.

  “I’m not sure…” she admitted quietly.

  North watched her, heart thumping once—harder than it should’ve.

  Then he moved.

  He hooked his leg behind hers and tripped her.

  Destiny gasped, off balance—caught mid-fall—

  And before she could fully react, North grabbed her and pulled her in as he leaned back against the cracked wall, catching her weight with his own body.

  Destiny stared up at him, furious and confused.

  “What the hell?!”

  North’s expression stayed calm like he hadn’t just committed a crime.

  “I was catching you before you fell.”

  “Why are you hugging me, weirdo?!” Destiny shoved his chest, but she didn’t fully get up. She remained crouched—between his legs—eyes locked onto his.

  They stared.

  Just… suspended.

  North’s voice dropped.

  “I don’t know why I’m doing a lot of things,” he admitted. “I’m a bit impulsive, I guess.”

  Destiny scoffed softly. “A beast, more like it.”

  “No,” North said, almost offended. “I’m not a beast.”

  “You sure?” Destiny’s eyes narrowed. “Your demeanor and attitude are very beast-like.”

  North’s grin faded.

  His voice turned shaky.

  “Caroline is dead.”

  Destiny froze.

  Her eyes widened.

  North kept going, the words coming out like he was forcing them through something tight in his throat.

  “I know you probably don’t remember her,” he said. “Considering you met once. But she was special to me.”

  Destiny’s lip twitched.

  “And losing her without saying goodbye…” North’s aura grew heavier, thickening the air around them. “I have no idea what happened. And I’m not playing fair or nice to get my answers.”

  He looked Destiny straight in the eyes.

  Destiny didn’t know what to say.

  Her pride had nothing to do with this.

  Her power had nothing to do with this.

  So she stayed quiet.

  North’s voice softened—just a fraction.

  “But…” he added, “this fight just taught me something.”

  Destiny blinked. “What?”

  North frowned, searching for the word.

  “I don’t feel as… hmm. What’s the word…”

  Destiny’s voice came instantly, gentler than her posture suggested.

  “Attuned.”

  North exhaled. “Yeah. That’s it.”

  Destiny sat down fully now, still between his legs. Not leaning away.

  Silence filled the basement again.

  Then, at the same time.

  “I’m sorry,” they both said.

  Destiny blinked. North blinked.

  North’s mouth twitched. “Jinx. You owe me.”

  “Jonathan,” Destiny said flatly. “Be serious.”

  That snapped him back like a leash.

  “Okay… okay.” North exhaled. “But going forward… don’t call me that again.”

  Destiny tilted her head.

  North’s expression went tight.

  “It’s a whole thing. Can you just respect it?” He swallowed. “Like how I’m not calling you by your name.”

  Destiny stared at him for a second longer—then nodded once.

  “I suppose I’ll oblige.”

  North let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

  Then the next topic began.

  Their powers weren’t working right.

  Destiny leaned back slightly, eyes narrowing with thought.

  “I believe it is because… we are no longer connected to our godly forms,” she said slowly.

  North’s brow furrowed. “Explain.”

  “The Realms,” Destiny continued, “now see Destiny and Vari… and North and Jafar… as separate entities.”

  North’s eyes widened a fraction.

  He nodded slowly. “That would explain why I’m back to basic.”

  Destiny glanced at him. “Basic?”

  North scoffed. “I technically only trained twice.”

  Destiny laughed—genuinely.

  North blinked. “What?”

  Destiny smirked. “You’ve definitely had earned plot armor.”

  North tilted his head, confused.

  Destiny waved her hand like it was obvious. “Vari told me that Jujisns have earned plot armor, since our godly selves already exist. The power and resilience get tampered down… but remain quite useful.”

  North nodded slowly, piecing it together.

  “Aww.” His mouth twitched. “I see.”

  He leaned his head back against the cracked wall.

  “So Jafar did help me… even if he didn’t mean to.”

  Destiny didn’t answer—just watched him.

  North exhaled.

  Before, he would’ve said fuck that guy without hesitation.

  But now?

  Things were different.

  Now he wasn’t sure what he felt.

  It wasn’t admiration.

  He was…

  Curious.

  About the man.

  About the part of himself he kept pretending wasn’t there.

  “I’m pretty sure everyone and they grandma knows why I said sorry,” North muttered, tilting his head.

  Then his eyes narrowed just a little.

  “But why did you say sorry?”

  Destiny turned away so fast it was almost dramatic.

  North leaned closer. “No no. Don’t go all shy.”

  Destiny exhaled, “It is strange,” she admitted, gaze fixed anywhere but him. “For I know not if these feelings I bear are remnants of Vari… or truly mine own.”

  North blinked. “Feelings…?”

  Destiny continued like she hadn’t heard him. “Though technically we only spent one day together… two weeks have passed since we left. We defeated the Story. We Ascended together.”

  She sighed, her voice softening.

  “And now I find myself… uncertain. I wish to know where my feelings truly lie.”

  North’s heart thumped.

  Destiny’s eyes flicked toward him—briefly—then away again.

  “I already have… a feel for Jafar,” she said, carefully. “And still figuring out… you.”

  North’s brow furrowed. “For the hundredth thousandth millionth time… I’m not Jafar.”

  Destiny scoffed quietly. “There are things about Jafar that I like. Obviously.”

  North froze.

  “…Oh.”

  He genuinely didn’t know how to take that.

  Destiny crossed her arms tighter, flustered by her own honesty. “So that is why I am apologizing. For being—”

  North’s grin snapped back.

  “A woman!”

  Destiny’s eyes turned into knives. “…”

  North immediately held up his hands. “I’m joking. Sorry—sorry.”

  Destiny narrowed her eyes harder. “You probably are a sexist.”

  “I’m not!” North protested. “I respect women! Ask anyone!”

  “I’m not asking anything,” she shot back.

  And despite everything… they laughed.

  A real laugh.

  A small break.

  North wiped his mouth, still smiling a little when he spoke again.

  “Well… there is one way to get past these feelings.”

  Destiny stared at him. “Don’t get cocky.”

  “A kiss isn’t cocky,” North said.

  Destiny’s brow lifted. “Bold.”

  North narrowed his eyes.

  “Stop.”

  “Okay…”

  Destiny went quiet again.

  She actually thought about it.

  Then she sighed, like she was making a strategic decision she hated.

  “…Fine. One kiss.”

  North’s eyes widened slightly.

  Destiny added quickly—voice sharper, like she needed to justify it before he got the wrong idea.

  “I figure you’re doing this to get past your grief. A distraction. That’s all this is for you.”

  North didn’t answer right away.

  Destiny kept going anyway, trying to convince herself as much as him.

  “Once I kiss you… I will know. I will feel it. And then I can move on.”

  She swallowed.

  “Jafar and Vari didn’t work out. So perhaps… it is time to get it out of the way.”

  North’s smile returned, softer this time. “Sure.”

  Destiny rolled her eyes.

  “Don’t look so pleased with yourself.”

  “I’m not,” North lied immediately.

  Destiny scooted closer anyway.

  And North—somehow—stayed still.

  They stared at each other for a second, the air thick with unspoken words—dust motes dancing in the single beam of light piercing the basement's gloom through the hole. And North thought to himself since he had the idea he should make the first move.

  Just a kiss.

  He closed the small distance between them. She smelled really good—like rain and something uniquely her, a scent that cut through the musty basement air.

  Just a kiss.

  Her features, even when scuffed with dirt and exhaustion—were still amazing to him, a perfect map of resilience he suddenly wanted to explore.

  He felt his body tingle, a low hum starting deep within him.

  Just a kiss.

  He lifted her chin with a gentleness that contradicted the strength of his hand, his thumb brushing over the smudge on her jawline. Slowly, he kissed her neck, his lips tracing a path upward over the frantic pulse point beneath her ear, savoring the little shiver that ran through her.

  “We stop the second you want to stop.”

  He brought her golden eyes to his crimson and finally kissed her, a soft, questioning press of lips that immediately ignited.

  It was like an electric shock went through his body—a jolt that erased all thought except the feel of her. He expected her to be shy, to pull back, but she met his intensity with her own, her lips parting, her tongue meeting his, and she made him self-conscious in a way no battle ever had.

  The kiss deepened, becoming a conversation of its own, and his hands went instinctively to her waist, pulling her flush against him.

  Her arms locked around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair, and the force of their combined momentum sent him back into the cracked basement wall with a dull thud.

  A few seconds went by—then a minute—then three—time stretching and compressing until it ceased to exist.

  He was losing himself in her and realized with a jolt that she was losing herself in him. His hands slid from her waist to the hem of her hoodie, while hers fumbled with the clasp of his cape.

  The cape fell away with a soft whisper, followed by the under gear, revealing red veins on his bare chest. Her hoodie came off next, and then her bra, and in the dim light, she was more beautiful than he had allowed himself to imagine.

  He lifted her effortlessly, his muscles straining slightly as her legs wrapped instinctively around his waist, the heat of her core pressing against him through the thin fabric of his remaining pants. He pressed her back against the cold concrete wall, the contrast sending a fresh wave of sensation through them both.

  He removed both their pants with his red-black lightning and entered her with a guttural groan.

  For a fleeting, terrifying moment, Jafar's face—his grin flashed in her mind, his cold hands on her skin, but North's passionate, demanding kiss—claiming her mouth as he began to move—drove the phantom memory away, replacing it with overwhelming, present-tense reality.

  As he found a rhythm, thrusting into her with deep, powerful strokes, North's own mind betrayed him. He saw Vari's face, her smile, the way she looked at him right before... but the feeling of Destiny—so alive, so fiercely present, her nails digging into his shoulders—grounded him brutally in the now. He anchored himself to her, focusing on the sounds she was making, sounds just for him.

  With a surge of strength and a wicked glint in her eye, she rolled them, leveraging her weight until she was straddling him, taking control with a confidence that surprised them both. Her hips moved in a hypnotic, grinding rhythm, driving him absolutely wild.

  He watched—mesmerized, as her breasts bounced with each powerful movement, his hands reaching up to cup them. She leaned forward, changing the angle, and they both gasped at the new, deeper sensation it created.

  “Done already,” Destiny laughed softly.

  North blinked—half stunned at himself, half stunned that it even happened.

  “I won twice today,” she said delightedly.

  North tilted her head, lips curling. “Yeah… I guess you did.”

  She was smiling—actually smiling. But North’s face… the way he looked at her after, surprised her.

  Not smug.

  Not teasing.

  Just… caught off guard.

  She cleared her throat, “Thou didst well,” she said, voice smooth. “And though thou finished early, thou shalt not be ashamed. For I am… quite special.”

  North stared at her for a second—

  Then burst out laughing.

  “Oh my god,” he wheezed. “I’ll give you that. I’m surprised it even got this far.”

  Destiny’s cheeks warmed instantly.

  She turned her head away, annoyed at herself.

  North laughed harder. “Do that one more time and I’m counting it as a win.”

  “Shut up,” Destiny snapped, but she was smiling again.

  She went to push him playfully—

  And got jolted backward.

  Not like she’d been punched.

  Just enough force to shove her away.

  Destiny’s smile vanished.

  Black energy warped around North.

  A distortion that didn’t look like lightning.

  Didn’t look like aura.

  Destiny’s eyes widened.

  North went still.

  He knew this sensation.

  He’d felt it before.

  He just hadn’t expected it to come back now.

  Not here.

  Not looking like this.

  He swallowed slowly, staring at his own hands as the darkness curled around his skin. His red veins were glowing beneath.

  “Well…” he muttered, voice tight, half bitter. “Since Mr. Wonderful woke up… it makes sense I’d get my Sryun back.”

  The next phase of the book is now starting…