“Yeah,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Still felt like you choosing me. That stuck.”
I blink. “You’re saying that like you think I planned any of this.”
His mouth twitches, but his eyes stay serious. “No. I’m saying it because somewhere along the way, I started liking the idea of you being here. Not just in the same building. Not just for Death’s errands. Here. With us.”
“Being a murderer hunter and all?”
“Yeah.” He shrugs, a small, helpless gesture. “Sort of. I mean… that part would be your choice. You know it.”
“Do I?”
His gaze sharpens, like he’s daring me to convince him otherwise. “You tell us there’s more wraiths, and all I can think is—great. We get to keep her until she either kills herself doing the job or disappears because the job’s done. And yeah, I hate the wraith shit, but the thought of you not being here? That’s worse. But I’m sure she could’ve told Death she doesn’t want to do this anymore. She could’ve opted out. I mean, what could Death really threaten you with? Dying? Extinguishing-our-souls bullshit? Yeah, as if that’s any different from the idea of no afterlife after death. But no. You agreed. Decided to do it. Why, Skye? Tell me why.”
The thing is… there are at least four answers to that, and none of them are ones I want to hand him right now.
The real one is ugly. It involves Death’s voice crawling down my spine, threading through my ribs, and that cold certainty that if I say no, something awful will happen—not to me, but to them.
So I default to the easiest lie that sounds enough like the truth.
“Because someone has to do it,” I say.
His jaw tightens. “That’s bullshit, and you know it.”
I take another step down, close enough now that the faint bite of smoke lingers between us.
“Do I? I don’t. And you have no way to prove it.”
He huffs out a humorless laugh.
“Oh, I do have a way,” he says, voice dipping low enough to slide under my skin.
Before I can ask, his hand snaps out, fingers curling around the back of my neck. He pulls me the last step closer until my toes bump his boots, and one heartbeat later, his lips are on mine.
And really, it’s not the taunting kind of kiss he’s good at. It’s heat and demand pressed into my mouth. Nothing like anything I’ve ever tasted before. It’s not Mark’s dutifulness, or Cassian’s raging need. It’s not Talon’s usual undiluted heat.
It’s emotion. A fight dressed as pleasure. A confession.
His mouth moves over mine like he’s trying to make a point I can’t argue out of, teeth grazing my lower lip before his tongue slides against it. Coaxing, claiming, testing. I don’t even remember my hands moving, but they’re in his hair now, gripping as I pull myself closer.
The hand on my neck tightens just enough to make my breath hitch, tilting my head the way he wants it. His other hand slides under the hem of my blouse, fingers cold against the bare skin of my waist, dragging up slowly.
“I don’t want—” he breaks away just enough to speak, breath harsh, “—that fucking cactus to die, Little Grim.”
I could push him away. Tell him this is too much, too fast, too tangled. But instead, I surge forward, kissing him harder.
“The three of us are really shit at keeping plants alive,” he mutters.
I breathe against his mouth, half-laugh, half-gasp. “Then maybe you should’ve led with that instead of the dramatic storm-off.”
“Wouldn’t have landed the same,” he murmurs, his lips ghosting mine before his teeth catch the corner of my mouth.
His fingers slide higher beneath my blouse until he finds my breast.
I didn’t wear any of the bras I found in my ICU room, so the access to my nipple is immediate. His fingertips, probably still smelling faintly of smoke, graze it, and a violent shiver rips through me, making the air feel ten degrees colder.
“For real, Little Grim.” A pinch, sharp and precise. “I’m baring my fucking heart out here, so maybe say something.”
My breath catches just as his other hand slides to my leg and lifts it, hooking it over his hip, giving him shameless, kinglike access to grind against my pussy. What did I say earlier? Loose sweatpants are the go-to. They make everything easier.
