Now, with their hands on me, that fire flares. The energy of it coils between us, pulling me further from the abyss, and the realization crashes into me like a physical force.
They want me.
And I want them.
Nathaniel’s fingers skim lower, brushing over the curve of my hip. Cassian’s grip on my jaw tilts my head back, exposing my throat to the heat of his breath, the phantom brush of lips. Talon’s hands wrap around my wrists.
“Skye.” Cassian’s voice is rougher this time. Commanding. “Come back.”
I let out a shuddering exhale.
I have never been this aware of my body before. Not as a Grim Reaper. Not even when I was alive. I remember needing oxygen, the way my lungs would burn when I held my breath too long. This is the same. No, this is worse.
Them touching me is not just pleasure—it’s survival.
If I don’t have it—if I don’t have them—I will slip away, unraveling into nothing.
“Come on,” Talon murmurs. “Doesn't it feel good? It does, Little Grim. Just like before. Am I right?”
Heisright. But I have no way of telling him. I am in the darkness after all. There's no light here. No eyes to see or no voice to speak. There's only the feeling of them. That's all my world consists of.
Nathaniel mutters something too low for me to hear, his voice dissolving into the void.
“Look at her,” Cassian breathes, his voice low and possessive. “She’s still caught between. We need to pull her back—”
Then Nathaniel again. A soft, considering hum. His head dips lower. His lips ghost over my throat, just a brush, a promise.
“We will,” he murmurs. “She’s already responding.”
I focus on his voice, the smooth undertone, the rasp fraying the edges—rough, ruined. Wrecked from screaming during the wraith’s attack. Wrecked and hungry.
It makes something deep inside me shudder. Makes me ache. Because he’s right. Iamresponding. My skin hums beneath their hands, every touch sinking into me like heat into ice, thawing me, pulling me back.
But it’s more than that. More than warmth.
It’spower.
This isn't just desire. It’s something deeper. It’s our connection. The thing they did to me when they carved out my bones? That connection is alive and calling to me.
And I want to answer.
Someone’s mouth crashes against mine.
I inhale sharply—not out of shock, not out of resistance, but because the second one of them kisses me, I exist. Ifeelreal. Iamreal.
And gods, I want more.
A needy sound escapes me, embarrassing in its honesty, and the man that kisses me, takes—slowly and intentionally, like a man savoring his last meal. His tongue slides against mine, his teeth catching my lower lip with just enough bite to make me shiver. Liquid heat floods my veins, pooling low, setting me on fire from the inside out.
His grip tightens, fingers digging in, dragging me against him like he can force me back from the brink of oblivion through sheer brute strength alone.
It takes me a breathless moment to realize—it has to be Cassian.
Not because I see him that I know, but because Ifeelhim. I know them. I could recognize their souls in the dark now.
Nathaniel’s lips find the side of my throat, teeth scraping over sensitive skin, and Talon shifts beside me—somewhere between Cassian and the nothingness at my feet.
But Cassian—yes, it’sdefinitelyCassian kissing me.
