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His grin brushes my mouth. “Absolutely.”

God, even that does things to me.

I kiss him again because apparently, I’ve learned nothing. This one slows down, some of the desperation bleeding out of it as his hand slides up my back and mine settles against the side of his neck. I feel his pulse beneath my fingertips, while that low rumble keeps building in his chest every time my tongue brushes his.

Alive.

Here.

His.

When we finally pull apart, we’re both breathing harder, and Carnage looks entirely too pleased with the effect his newly returned voice is having on me.

Then I remember… we have an audience.

I glance past his shoulder.

Raze has apparently found a crack in the chamber wall worthy of his complete attention. Scar is wiping blood from his knuckles with enormous concentration while Cali stands beside him wearing the kind of grin that tells me she saw every-fucking-second.

Wreck isn’t even pretending—he is watching us outright.

Ruckus catches me looking and immediately turns away, his shoulders shaking.

And Sentinel? Sentinel has his face tipped toward the broken ceiling, wings still half spread behind him while he blinks several times and clears his throat.

Carnage follows my gaze. “Not one word, bird-brain.”

My heart does another stupid little flip at hearing him talk.

Sentinel sniffs and keeps staring at the ceiling. “Wasn’t gonna say anything.”

“You’re crying.”

“Fuck off! I got dust in my eye.”

Carnage looks around at the half-destroyed chamber. “Both eyes?”

“It’s a lot of fucking dust.” A laugh breaks out of me, and Sentinel finally looks down, his eyes suspiciously bright as they land on Carnage. “It’s good to hear you, asshole.”

Carnage’s grin fades into something softer. “Yeah, brother.” His voice comes out rough. “It’s good to be heard.”

Sentinel clears his throat, then shakes his head. “Will someone get this hound some damn pants?”

I laugh, softer this time, and press my forehead into Carnage’s, breathing in smoke, hellfire, and something underneath both that’s just entirely, unmistakably him.

For the first time since I ran from the Conclave twelve years ago, the ground beneath me doesn’t feel like something I need to be ready to leave.

Carnage keeps telling everyone I’m nobody’s property.

Maybe he’s right.

But when it comes to him?

I would gladly be Property of Carnage.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

CARNAGE