THE PROFESSOR'S DIRTY CLAIM
Alex wrapped his legs around Damian’s waist, pulling him deeper.
“Come back to me,” he whispered against his lips. “I love you. Not the demon. Not the fusion. You.”
The kiss deepened.
Love burned brighter than the possession.
The fusion shrieked as it was forced partially out—blue and red energy exploding from Damian’s body in a crackling burst. It hovered in the air for one second, writhing, before retreating deeper into Damian’s mind, not fully gone but weakened.
Damian collapsed on top of Alex, breathing hard, eyes clearing but still flickering with red sparks.