“We’re tethered. I’m still your best friend, for one. And I’m your circle-mate.”
Ryder caught Liam’s eye in the mirror. The steam had dissipated, but Ryder’s eyes were still ink black.
“We’ll keep it between us,” Liam added. “Tell me what I need to do.”
“Cut me.” The words edged between Ryder’s teeth. His brows knitted, and he chewed on his lip until it hurt. The idea of Liam dragging a blade across his skin sent a shameful thrill through him. “Carve a spell into my skin.”
“Dark magic,” Liam said.
“The darkest there is. That’s why I said you should just go.”
Liam disappeared into Ryder’s bedroom. Ryder’s magic flared again. The lights in the bathroom popped and went out. His head spun as he stepped into the shadows of his room, elongated and flickering in the glow of the candles on his altar.
“Where?” Liam asked shakily. He held Ryder’s black-handled athame, a curved silver blade, in his right hand. “Where do you want me to cut you?”
“Anywhere,” Ryder said. He narrowed his eyes and glanced from Liam to the bedroom door and back. “You’re serious?”
“Get on the bed.”
“You don’t have to do this with me.”
“Get on the bed,” Liam seethed.
Ryder sat on the edge of the bed. Liam knelt in front of him. Ryder had imagined this scene before, but differently. Desire pooled in his gut. Ryder ignored it.
The tip of the athame touched Ryder’s hip. Desire bloomed into something far harder to ignore. Liam’s whiskey eyes flashed to his face, and he asked, “Here?”
The blade was cold. It vibrated with purpose against Ryder’s skin. He watched the tendon in Liam’s neck flex, and nodded. “Sure, Princess.”
Liam knocked him backward with one hand on his chest and dug the blade cruelly into Ryder’s flesh. It stung. The darkness expanded around them. Ryder could hear Liam’s racing heart. He listened to the sound of the knife cutting through his skin, smelled his own blood, coppery and rich and heady. Time paused to watch them.
“You should’ve told me,” Liam hissed. He sliced another line across Ryder’s hip.
“I didn’t know how to. You’re my best friend; how do I tell you something like that? Hey man, yeah—” He paused to suck in a sharp breath. “I might be in love with you. No big deal. Oh, and I’m a necromancer, also no big deal. And I’m—” Ryder stopped speaking altogether when Liam’s mouth covered the bloody wound on his hip.
A strangled moan was torn from Ryder’s throat. He threw his head back and tried to catch his breath, enduring the surge of shared power as Liam pressed his tongue against the new rune.
Fire set Ryder’s veins ablaze. Liam ran his hands up his stomach, over his ribcage. One thumb traced the raised scar on Ryder’s right side. His focus had been stolen, disintegrating the glamour, but he didn’t care. His senses sharpened and his back arched off the bed. Everything became the movement of Liam’s mouth and Ryder’s blood coating his tongue.
The candles on the altar sparked. Ryder couldn’t catch his breath.
“Stop,” he said suddenly. He pawed at Liam’s shoulders.
Liam stopped. He crawled over Ryder the same way Ryder had seen in dreams and nightmares and daydreams. His hands settled on either side of Ryder’s arms and he looked down at him, handsome and powerful, with blood on his mouth and a pale tint to his eyes, his pupils and irises replaced by translucent gray.
“You have too many secrets,” Liam said. His voice was every raindrop that had ever fallen, and every storm that had ever raged.
The athame sat on the bed next to them. Ryder grabbed it and pressed it hard against Liam’s throat.
Liam craned into it, an encouragement. The tip of the blade nicked the flesh below his ear. He said, “You taste like power.”
Chills coursed Ryder’s arms. His stomach leapt into his throat. He pulled the blade back and tossed it to the floor. Liam leaned down, but Ryder turned to catch the cut on his neck rather than his lips. He pushed Liam onto his back and pinned him to the bed, teeth set around the cut, one hand clutching the sheets, the other pushed up Liam’s shirt.
Liam’s blood tasted like the ocean. It was clean and delicate, crowded with urgency and youth and vitality. Everything Ryder had kept at bay rushed from him. Every feeling became too potent, every ounce of magic became too electric. He licked across the cut, and Liam’s breath hitched. Ryder dug his fingernails into Liam’s ribs and Liam sighed.
“Ry,” Liam whispered. “Ryder, stop.”
Ryder didn’t stop. He bit down until another spurt of blood warmed his tongue. Liam whimpered, and Ryder loved the way it sounded. He pressed his body down against Liam’s, fit their hips together and nudged his thigh between Liam’s legs.
“Ryder,” Liam snapped. He wiggled his hand between them and tugged Ryder’s jaw until he pulled back, only to be pulled in again.
Ryder didn’t know if it started as a kiss. Their mouths met in a hurry, and Ryder’s lips parted for the stroke of Liam’s tongue, wet with his own blood. The stud was smooth as Liam licked into Ryder’s mouth. It turned into a messy, rough, starved kiss that sent Ryder spinning inside himself.
Ryder had imagined kissing Liam every day for two years. His imagination couldn’t have prepared him for this.
Their magic clashed. Cool water met a wildfire. Liam’s elemental magic tangled with Ryder’s necromancy. Their energy stitched together, weaving and tightening, and Ryder couldn’t keep up with any of it. Not Liam’s lips, insistent and demanding, not his heart beating fast in his chest, not Liam’s hands low on his back, or Liam grinding shamelessly against his thigh.
Ryder wanted to sink his teeth into Liam’s skin again. He wanted to tear his clothes off, and raise the dead, and set fires.
A hum built in Liam’s throat and he moaned, breath hot in Ryder’s mouth. Ryder wanted to hear it on repeat. He wanted to make Liam sound like that for hours, desperate and worked up and reckless.
It turned into Liam’s mouth on his over and over, kissing that turned violent before it became tender. They bit each other’s lips. Liam scraped his nails up the back of Ryder’s neck and their teeth clanked when Liam tugged him down, forcing them to kiss harder and deeper.
The magic settled as they did. The quieter their breathing became, the calmer their magic was. Ryder’s heat turned into a flush across his cheeks, and his eyes unclouded, the black sliding back to the center. Liam’s hips pressed against Ryder’s in slow, tentative rolls.
When the darkness dissipated, it left Ryder shaken. His body trembled. His lips slid away from Liam’s and tried to catch his breath.
“You’re…” Liam sucked in a breath and touched Ryder’s jaw. His body stilled and relaxed into the bed. “Did you know you could do that?”
“Do what?”