Not anymore.
So, I need Pain’s help.
And if humiliation were a sport, I’d be doing laps in gold trim. Given the history between us, I might as well be wearing a crown. Still, there’s the silver lining:
He should understand the grammar of my agony.
I plant myself in the center of the room, exhale every scrap of pretending, and let the truth leave me with my breath. The guys are already braced. They know what I’m about to do.
“Pain,” I say, my voice caught somewhere between invocation and surrender. “I need you.”
For a beat, nothing.
The crows tap at the glass.
The boys are scattered around the room, watching.
And then a sound comes—
A sigh that folds into a groan that curdles into an eye-roll.
And there he is.
Pain steps out from the shadow between the kitchenette and the corridor. His eyes are a snarl. Judgment rides his shoulders, loud as a shout. He’s all brittle grace and coiled violence, radiating the bone-deep exhaustion of having to deal with me.
“I told you—” he pauses, jaw tight. “I amworking.”
I hate that I flinch. I hate that he’s right. Heisworking. And I know exactly what would happen if he weren’t.
I’d be getting another pep talk from Death.
And I don’t know how many more of those I can take before he just… puffs me out of existence.
“Well, this is important, too.” My voice comes out smaller than I intend. “For both of us.”
His gaze flicks across the room—Talon first, then Cassian, lingering longest on Nathaniel. Knowing how he feels about them makes this worse. He probably thinks they manipulated me into calling him here. That I’m some marionette dancing on their strings.
Without dignity.
Without autonomy.
Without a say.
He’s wrong.
“More important than life and death?” he bites out.
Across the sofa, Talon cocks a brow. Cassian grunts like he means to clear his throat but never commits.
“Listen, I know carrying souls is real work, but—”
“But what, Skye?” Pain cuts in, voice like a blade. “Don’t waste my time. Say what you need from me.”
Ouch. We’ve officially passed the anger now and gone straight into contempt. Got it.
“I can’t leave this building,” I grind out. “There are crows outside, and they’rephysicalwith me now. As you know”—I make sure he feels every word—“I have a body. So it’s a problem.”
He tilts his head, all sharp, birdlike interest. The arrogance doesn’t vanish, but it shifts and becomes something curious. The tiniest thread of willingness to listen snakes in.
