Black water rippled.

Midnight stars sparkled on wave crests.

Charging into the wake of lapping current, Gentry shifted,
his onyx fur quickly replaced by taut, muscular skin.

Lucy,
pale coat of red, drizzled with white-blond,
transformed into her own human form, a look of determination mirroring her mate's.

The chill of the water's temperature spurred them together in a rush.

The Mac Tíre had but three nights to enjoy the moonspace given to them by the gods.

Her tongue severing the seal of his parting lips, Lucy whimpered,
tugging at Gentry's black crown while he pulled her close, over-taking her with a twist of the hips.

Feral and heady,
an adrenaline rush of consummation,
pulling at them like the moon's strength against the tides.