Their kiss deepened, raw and hungry, a fire igniting between them that neither seemed willing to put out.
Lips locked, breaths stolen—it wasn't just passion; it was starvation. When Julius finally broke the kiss, his lips hovered just above Maverick's, warm breath brushing against them.
"Bite me," he whispered, voice low and ragged.
Maverick stilled.
Those two words sent a violent shiver down his spine. His breath hitched, and something primal stirred in his chest.
His heart pounded harder—so hard it felt like it might rupture. Then, suddenly, everything shifted.
His vision burned red.
Veins beneath Julius' skin became blindingly clear—throbbing, pulsing, calling.
His pupils glowed crimson, and with a groan from deep in his throat, Maverick's neatly arranged teeth gave way to fangs—long, gleaming, sharp.
Julius' eyes widened.
Usually one should have been afraid, but for Julius, something else awakened inside him.
