Still on hands and heels, her body made shaking, colliding undulations that reminded him of waves on the most tortured, lovely, storm-addled sea. Through the slit of her eyelids he saw the brilliant spark of her orgasm.

The sounds she made were completely unlike anything he’d ever heard. Soft and high and broken free from the toughness she was so good at portraying. It was those sounds, the unchained moans and feminine pleas, that undid him in the end. Set in time to his thrusts, to the collapse of her hips and the quivering of her thighs, the end of her orgasm brought on the beginning of his.

Her body refused to let him go. Her spine resumed its delicate and deadly arch, pulling out the intensity of his pleasure. The sight of her—the sound and scent and feel—scraped out every last molecule of lust inhabiting his body and sent them all shooting toward the scorching, wonderful place where they were joined.

Her body started to sag but he loved—needed—the position so much he couldn’t let that happen, so he slipped a hand under her ass and lifted her up. Kept her body in perfect alignment to his. Let the wet slap of their bodies take over everything.

He couldn’t see her anymore behind the black of his closed eyelids. Couldn’t think about anything but this.

When he came, it was with a force that rivaled their first time, when sheer surprise and the thrill of discovery and the allure of forbidden fruit had heightened everything. That moment when he’d first realized that he wanted this woman in a way that he’d never wanted anyone else. He could hear his own gasps, but they were mere echoes of the pulsing euphoria that surged through his body.

The whole world shifted, and when it realigned he realized he’d collapsed against her body, pressing her into the rock. Her ankles were locked around him again, his face against the soft slope of her neck. His skin had pebbled with a chill, and he could feel the tender waves of heat she was doling out. Warming his body. And his heart.

A Chimeran should never take happiness from warming someone who was not one of their own, least of all an Ofarian, but as Keko wrapped her arms and legs around Griffin’s body and sent a steady, low stream of heat into him, she couldn’t help but love how it made her feel in return. To give that gift to someone. To him.

He didn’t lift himself off her and she refused to unwrap him. Until all of a sudden it got to be too much. His breath on her neck, the light sifting of his fingers through her hair, the precious weight of him . . . everything in opposition to the urgency they had just given in to.

Sex changed everything. And nothing.

They were still the same two people who had formed an undeniable connection three years ago. Today that connection had been cemented, tied up tight with lock and chain, and tossed into a safe with six-feet-thick walls. Absolutely unbreakable, no matter the tool or weapon.

They were still the same two people with vastly different, conflicting goals.

Keko needed space. More time to think. Control over her emotions.

“Well. Now that we got that out of the way.” She nudged his shoulders, and after a pause, he pushed up over her. She wriggled out from underneath him and rolled away. The space between them was invigorating. The space between them was empty and useless.

“Ah.” He blinked, his insanely thick lashes clumped together with wet. “I see.”

He pulled himself out of the pool with impressive strength, water streaming off his body.

She got to her feet. “What exactly do you see?”

He waved a vague hand in her direction. “How it is with you. I’m still not going anywhere.”

“Not trying to drive you away. Just need to think. To process all this.”

“Like I said, I get it.”

She opened her mouth for a retort, for argument, but he watched her serenely and there was no fight in him. No challenge. He was letting her make her choice and giving her every means to do so.

The vow he’d made rang in her ears. The speed with which he’d given it still made her reel, pressing her to believe that he truly wasn’t here for the Senatus. That she should just tell him about the Chimeran disease and get the Source’s location.

Sex changed everything. And nothing.

It was dumb to stand there and moon about it. She was a woman of action, and if she stood next to this waterfall too much longer with Griffin, she’d be tempted to persuade him to get back into it with her.

She cranked up her inner fire and let the heat take care of the water droplets still clinging to her skin. A thin layer of steam coiled off her body, swirling around her limbs. As she pulled her hair over one shoulder, wrung the water from the mass, and then raked heated fingers through it to get it dry, Griffin watched.

The weight of his stare struck her hard in the heart, right where she couldn’t afford to feel him. But she couldn’t look away from him either.

Holding her gaze, his lovely mouth filled with even lovelier Ofarian words. Water wicked away from his skin, the droplets pulling away as though tugged by invisible strings. They grew fainter and fainter the farther they drew away from his body, until they dissolved altogether and he was standing there, naked and dry.

It was then she realized he’d managed to uphold the veil of mist above and around them the whole time they’d had sex. How much power and control he must have, to divide his magic like that and still make her feel like she was his sole focus when he’d been inside her.

Space, Keko. You need space.

The old tank top and shorts were beyond useless now, but she had a new gray tank and a pair of jeans left in her pack, and she pulled those out. Griffin watched her the whole time.

“Got any more of that soup?” she asked.

“Yeah, a couple more,” he replied. When he bent over for his own pack, his body listed to one side and he had to catch himself on a rock.

“Whoa there, big guy. You okay?”

“Fine.” He tossed her his last two cups of dried soup and yanked out a black T-shirt and black shorts from his own pack. She loved him in black.

The whole exchange was surreal and awkwardly domestic, making her feel like what they’d just shared hadn’t happened. That was what she’d wanted, right? This space?

She went to the pool, scooped up water into her hands, made it boil, and dumped it into the cups. Above, the mist veil flickered, winking in and out like the static that often came through on the Chimeran radio that connected the convenience store gateway to the valley. Fear made a little slice through her mind. She turned around, worried, only to find that Griffin had propped his back against a rock, and had fallen soundly asleep. The mist disappeared entirely.

With the veil no longer hiding them, they were exposed to potential tracking by the Children. Griffin had held on as long as he could, probably assuming they’d have found their way back into an inhabited area by now so he could crash in relative safety. He hadn’t counted on her seduction dragging out his energy, but then again, neither had she.

A day ago she would have seized this opportunity of his unconsciousness and scrambled out of this ravine and as far away from him as possible. How much had changed. Technically she could backtrack to the Queen’s prayer and carve a new one again. She could stand there and stare at the star map until she thought she could decipher it. But there was too good a chance the Son of Earth would come back for her, and an even greater chance she’d never understand the angles in that mass of stars.

She needed Griffin. She hated to admit it, but she did. And he’d shielded her from spying eyes after the attack. It was her turn to stand watch over him.

Keko dragged his vest over and slid out the giant knife strapped to the back. Then she settled against her own rock a quiet distance away and let Griffin have his much-needed rest. She kept one eye on the ravine that extended out to the ocean and the other on the Ofarian.