Fyordin’s power breaks toward her with oceanic strength, rushing through her magic. The room’s walls seem to liquefy, swirling currents of his magic tingling to life under his skin to rush through her palm.

“Oh” is all Tierney can manage, feeling swept toward him as Fyordin’s eyes go half-mast, a shuddering breath escaping his lips.

“Your touch—” he rasps out “—it’s better than I ever imagined...”

Their auras break loose. Tierney pulls him toward her at the same time Fyordin grabs hold of her, his magic and strong arms catching her in a swirling embrace. Tierney shudders, flooded by their joint power with such passionate urgency it steals her breath away, their magic’s furious hunger swiftly rising to tempestuous levels, his body against hers a wild thrill. Fyordin’s eyes are deepening pools, pupils blown wide, and his scent. Like the deepest depths of the Vo.

Entranced, Tierney reaches up with a trembling hand to touch his silken hair. Fyordin’s breath hitches and he closes his eyes, his expression taking on a look of rapture as she threads her fingers through it, entranced by its waterfall feel. When he opens his eyes and meets her gaze once more, his eyes and power are churning with the full power of the Vo.

“I’m falling for you. Hard,” he groans, seeming to have lost all control of his magic’s surge and flow.

Another whirl of his aura spirals around her, a tingling pleasure she’s never experienced before chasing its flow. “Oh,” Tierney says again, eyes widening.

“Kiss me once, Asrai,” Fyordin offers, leaning in decadently close, his voice pitched low. “Just once.”

He’s trembling, Tierney realizes, stunned by her effect on him as her own tremor of desire kicks up to dazed heights. The liquefied walls around them contract as she fights the yearning to pull him even closer and instead holds him back. “Fyordin...this is a mistake. This isn’t a true draw. Most of the time we’re at full odds with each other.”

A bright swoosh of his power shimmers through her. “I’m not fully at odds with you, Asrai,” he purrs, a wicked glint entering his gaze as she’s even more intensely swept up in the desire to merge with him like she merges with the Vo. Fully. Nothing held back...

But...no. This is the river’s magic at play, muddling their minds.

She takes a decided step back, breaking physical contact. Breathing hard, she meets his hungry gaze, the room’s walls streaming around them. “I shouldn’t have come here like this,” she manages, voice shaky. “It was wrong of me—”

“Every night, since we first met,” Fyordin says in a tormented voice, “I lie awake wanting to pull you to the bottom of the Vo and...join our tides.” He stops himself, his jaw tensing, and Tierney senses something deeper going on—a rattled edge to this fervent desire.