Jude didn't know how long the glow lasted. It pulsed through them like a second heartbeat, their bodies tangled, spent, sated - and still craving.
The pool in the center of the chamber rippled, reflecting the golden hues of their skin, their markings, the soft laughter and breathless moans that lingered like perfume.
Every surface held a memory now: a back arched in pleasure, lips parted in ecstasy, fingers slipping through sweat-slicked hair. It wasn't just lovemaking.
It was a transformation. A ritual. A communion with the island and with each other.
Lucy curled against him, her chest rising and falling slowly, golden light tracing her curves in delicate spirals. She brushed her lips over his shoulder, then looked up, her eyes half-lidded but burning with something deeper.
"She wants more," she whispered.
Jude's brow furrowed. "Who?"