THE THIRD MATING
I collapse beside her, chest heaving.
She rolls toward me, kisses me slow, lazy, tasting both of us.
I’m still catching my breath when she grabs my face, forces me to look at her.
Her eyes aren’t brown anymore.
They’re pure black.
A smile spreads across her face that doesn’t belong to Lyra.
Black smoke pours from her mouth, her eyes, her skin.
It slams into my chest like a frozen blade.
I try to pull away. Can’t.
The smoke floods me. Burns cold.