He could never get enough of this—this connection, this sex, this power flowing between them. He needed it more than he needed food, water—needed this sharing of magic, this twining of souls; he’d never stop craving it— Then he was falling, amid black wind and lightning and stars. He came through all of it, roaring his pleasure to the skies. Because those were skies above them. And city lights. Booming bass from a nearby party. Hunt stilled, gaping down at Bryce. At the surface beneath her—the apartment building’s roof. Bryce grinned sheepishly. “Oops.”
