Noun
1. The state of being unaware or unconscious of what is happening.
2. The state of being forgotten, especially by the public.
3. Extinction.
Chapter 22
Comfort
Snow was at her side, trying to comfort her.
Jo was struggling to pull away; she didn’t want comfort. She didn’t want to be consoled. It felt as though all she deserved was pain and punishment. She had reverted near-instantly to the hours immediately following Nico’s death. But somehow the emotions were magnified and made worse in a way Jo couldn’t have imagined possible.
“Wayne was right,” Jo groaned, relenting all at once and burying her face in Snow’s chest. Her head felt too full with all of the things she could have done, all of the things shewasdoing without evenrealizing. How many missions had been more difficult just because she’d been there? How many might have failed if everyone else hadn’t picked up her slack? What else had Pan put them through—would put them through—for the sake of getting to Jo?
Jo’s chest clenched, her stomach roiling. She might throw up.
“How?” Jo asked the silence, just distressed enough to get the word out. When it felt as though the rest of her plea wouldn’t get caught in her throat, she wrapped her arms around her stomach and worked to get her breathing in order. “How am I supposed to do my job if. . . if I can’t trust myself?” Wayne had told her she was out of control, that this was beyond them, and she had naively—Jo swallowed. “If someone else dies because of me . . .”
“No one else will,” Snow whispered, keeping her close and breathing the words into her hair. Jo wanted to feel comforted, but the subtle tremors wracking her body kept her on edge, like she deserved to be anxious.
“How?” she whimpered, hating how vulnerable her voice sounded but unable to offer much else. In response, Snow planted a barely-there kiss on the crown of her head. “How can you be so sure?”
“Because you know the truth now. A truth I should’ve told you all along. If there is blame for Nico’s death then it is on me for not telling you what you are so that you could act with the full knowledge. So that I could give you guidance and counsel.
“And. . .” He drew a slow breath, squeezing her even tighter, as if to try to pull her into him and hide her from the world. At this point, Jo wouldn’t object. “Remember, I am your counterbalance. I can try to contain you more than I have so far, now that you know the truth.”
“Then never leave my side.” Jo already would’ve spent eternity in his arms if given the chance. Now, she would just to make sure no one else was harmed because of her. Even if it was as he said—that she was a sort of necessary part to the cycle of the universe—Jo wanted to play her role as needed, not let her magic run rampant like wildfire.
“I’ll never leave you,” Snow said, pressing a kiss to her temple. Jo leaned into it, willing herself to believe the words. Because, despite never having known the man outside of the Society in this lifetime, a part of herhadknown him. And that part of her craved him more than air, more than life itself. It was as though the only place she’d ever felt comfortable, ever feltalive, was in his arms.
“What if that’s not enough, though?” she whispered. “What if—”
Snow placed a finger on her lips, stopping her.
Jo didn’t have the chance to object further before he was leaning in and capturing her lips in a deep and lingering kiss. She wasn’t sure if it was all in her mind or if something was truly different between them now that she understood more of who she was, but the kiss felt almost electric. She swore she could feel it resonate against every string of her, turning the stress song her body had been singing into a perfect harmony. It rushed up to the crown of her head and then dipped low, settling like a pleasant warmth within her very core.
It was as natural as breathing for Jo to shift, pushing Snow back into the bed as she straddled his thighs. Well, he’d said to calm herself; this was certainly one way to do it.
The kiss never broke, only growing more passionate, her need to be closer to him coalescing into something nearly tangible. Snow’s fingers were tangled in her hair, clutching her to him, deepening the kiss with a moan. Jo responded in kind.
Swimming in the blissful haze of Snow’s touch as she was, it was hard to say when they’d managed to remove their clothes. It was as if one moment they were merely kissing, and the next Snow was naked beneath her, the vast expanse of his skin hers for the taking. She wanted to savor it all: the heady sensation of him easing into her, making Jo feel the most whole and complete she’d ever felt—in this life or any life. The soft gasp that tightened his brow as she encapsulated him. Jo wanted it all. She wanted something to feelrightwhen everything else felt so broken.
Even having slept with Snow before, Jo couldn’t deny that something about this time was markedly more intense—a connection had been formed that hadn’t existed before. Like, with the first rise and fall of her hips, she was feeling true pleasure for the first time. When she looked down at Snow, at his parted lips still wet from their kissing, face flushed and eyes hooded, it was like seeing true beauty for the first time.
Jo kept a steady but slow rhythm, desperate for the moment to last as long as possible. This wasn’t about chasing her own release or falling into easy ecstasy; this was something deeper. Snow’s hands gripped at her upper thighs, matching her with the subtle shift of his own slow thrusts.
His eyes found hers, a gaze even more penetrating than the feeling of him inside her. He held her, in body, mind and soul, with just a look. She let him search her without ever looking away, without ever moving anything more than his hips. Jo wanted to be his, but only if he knew every last thing he was taking when he took her. Only if he would be hers in return.
This time felt as familiar as any other, but more so, no longer just sex followed on the high of chemistry and attraction, no longer just the pull of a magnetism that Jo didn’t understand. It was an escape, but not a cheap out from stress—more like retreating into the safety of a world only they could find. This time wasn’t sex at all, Jo realized with the same spark of recognition as the sparks of pleasure arching up her spine.
As corny and cliché as it sounded, they were making love.
As if Snow had been listening to her thoughts, he moved beneath her, using his strength and momentum to lead her into the bed in his place. His stare never broke, filling all the cracks of her spirit with his adoration. Jo wondered briefly what her own expression was, though she wouldn’t be surprised if it mirrored his.
Before she even realized what she was doing, she was reaching up to trace slightly trembling fingers against the striking angle of his jaw, the curve of his lips. When he turned his head into her touch just enough to place a kiss against her fingertips, Jo’s heart swelled and eyes stung with unshed tears.
