Chapter 17 The Present
Ican’t believe I’m doing this.
This is the worst possible time and place.
But fuck it. Desperate times call for desperate measures.
“Cassian,” I say, snapping my head toward the man beside me. He must hear the resolve in my voice, because he turns almost instantly to face me. “I need you to… uh…”
I glance quickly over my shoulder. The road behind us is still clear. The woods surrounding the abandoned hospital stretch into the distance. Somewhere beyond those trees, that kid is still fighting. He has to be. I won’t let myself believe he’s already lost.
I turn back to Cassian. My heart is pounding, adrenaline and panic and determination tangled so tightly together I can’t separate them.
“I need you to fuck me,” I say.
The words come out breathless. But not weak.
Cassian doesn’t move. He just stares.
In the front seat, Talon starts choking on air, whipping around to look at me like I’ve grown another head. Nathaniel’s eyes flick to the rearview mirror, meeting mine with a slight furrow of his brow.
I haven’t exactly been modest around them, but clearly, neither of them expected me to say something like this so directly.
At least not in a moment like now, mid escape, mid trauma, mid “maybe we’re all about to die.”
Well, there’s no time for shock.
“I mean it,” I add, swallowing. My throat is suddenly too dry, like I’ve swallowed sanding paper. “I need you to fuck me. Fast. There’s no time left to lose.”
Cassian blinks once. Just once.
Then his whole body shifts, like something mechanical switching back on. Or maybe like a soldier receiving orders from God.
If that god was me.
Either way, he moves instantly, and my heart skips at how ready he is.
“Stop the car, Nathaniel,” he says.
Nathaniel turns the wheel smoothly and pulls off the road, guiding the car beneath the cover of trees. The tires crunch against the gravel shoulder, and then everything goes still—except for the chaos inside my chest.
Talon is still half-turned in his seat.
“Are you serious?” he asks. “I mean, I’m the last person to turn down sex, but you want to do that here…?”
“Shut up, Talon,” Cassian growls. “There’s nothing for you to turn down. Skye didn’t ask you for anything.”
Talon tips his head slightly to the side, watching me through those sharp, wicked lashes of his.
“Oh, I heard Skye just fine,” he says, lips curving. “But if power’s what she’s after, the more of us, the better.”
Cassian stiffens beside me.
So do I.
Is that true?
I haven’t thought about it.
I glance at Nathaniel in the rearview mirror. His eyes haven’t left mine. When he raises his brows, the thought clicks into place.
He’s thinking it too.
That fucking them all might be more powerful than fucking just one.
The car falls silent. Only the sound of our breath, my heartbeat, the low hum of the engine still idling.
But I don’t have time to think.
I’ve wanted these men since the moment I realized I could feel touch again. And reason be damned, I want them now.
If the universe decided my power comes from pleasure, from intensity, from sex—
Then so be it.
I draw in a breath, barely able to feel my lungs. My whole body is tense, burning, desperate.
“It could work,” I say quietly, swallowing hard.
Cassian’s jaw flexes, a muscle pulsing beneath his skin. He stares straight ahead, eyes dark, mouth set in a hard line. Nathaniel’s expression doesn’t change.
Talon, however, grins. “Well,” he says, “I sure as hell don’t know how to destroy the wraith. But if this is about giving you more power, or bracing for the end of the world, I might as well enjoy it.”
“Talon,” Cassian warns, voice low and sharp
“What?” Talon says, all mock innocence and hungry eyes. “She’s the one who said fuck me. I’m just offering my generous, team-spirited dick to the cause.”
Nathaniel finally speaks, voice calm and quiet. “This isn’t about you. It’s about the power.”
“Yes,” I say quickly, before Cassian can snap. “But it doesn’t have to be only about that.”
I glance between the three of them. My hands tremble in my lap, not from fear, but from the pressure building inside me, like I’m about to split open and pour light.
Cassian slowly turns his head back toward me. His hand slides to my thigh. It’s tense. But warm. And it feels right in the middle of all this.
His nostrils flare slightly. I can see the pulse in his throat.
He wants this.
He just doesn’t want to want it with them.
“Don’t make me beg,” I say. “Come on.”
I take his hand and slide it higher between my legs. His knuckles brush over the wet spot soaking through my pants.
His breath hitches.
“Would I be this wet,” I whisper, “if I didn’t want it?”
Silence.
Then Nathaniel’s seat clicks back.
It’s the softest sound in the world, but it hits me like thunder.
Cassian’s breathing slows. It turns dangerous.
Then he moves, too.
He fully turns toward me, his other hand sliding up to brace the back of my neck.
His voice is low as he leans in.
“I go first.”
Talon lets out a laugh.
“I don’t think this is that kind of lineup, soldier.”
Before Cassian can answer, Nathaniel speaks again.
“Let’s make some space in here. Lift your legs, Skye.”
His voice is so calm that I do it without thinking.
The moment I do, his seat drops flat with a mechanical hiss.
And just like that, there is no barrier between us.
He gently lowers my legs so they rest across his lap.
“Do the same, Talon,” he says, without glancing over. “Cass, flatten your seats.”
Cassian exhales through his nose like a bull holding back a charge.
But he listens.
With one smooth motion, he hits the controls beside him, slamming his own seat back, and then mine.
In seconds, the entire back of the car becomes one sprawling plane of leather and heat, broken only by the stubborn middle console.
Wow.
Not only does this car look like a demon on wheels, but it can flatten the entire back row straight into the trunk.
Where do you even get something like this?
“Don’t look too impressed, Little Grim,” Talon says, catching my expression.
“I know what to bargain for in cars.”
It makes me smile.
Just barely.
Just for a second, as I forget what’s at stake and why we’re even doing this.
Well, the main reason anyway.
“Do I want to know how many women have ended up sprawled back here?”
Talon’s grin flashes in the dark. “No, but I could give you an educated guess. Ballpark. With graphs.”
A low sound rumbles from Cassian’s throat. “Talon.”
“What? Just being honest.” He’s already kicking off his boots. “Turning down sex isn’t exactly something I do.”
Nathaniel’s hands slide to my calves. His palms are cold, a little bony, but steady, just like everything he does. I’ve never seen his hands tremble. He positions me with the same calm focus he uses when talking about murder.
And those hands—those firm, guilty hands that have done terrible things—caress my legs so gently, it’s like he’s someone else.
I look at him. That storm buried deep in his soul is starting to surface. It would be easy to get lost in it, if Cassian didn’t cup my jaw and force me to look at him instead.
“You tell me when it’s too much,” he says. “You hear me?”
I nod.
“Use words,” he growls.
“Yes.”
He kisses me. It’s not like what almost happened in the car on the Candy Maker’s street. There was tension, hunger, something dark simmering between us, but even then, he held back. He didn’t kiss me.
The last time he did was after I saved his life, when I forced his soul back into his body, refusing to let him go. That kiss had felt like a promise wrapped in desperation. Raw. Desperate. Brutal.
This one? It feels the same. Just as violent. Just as consuming. Just as claiming.
But more.
His fingers tangle in my hair, tilting my head exactly how he wants it. His tongue slides in without waiting for more permission. Something inside him has broken loose. Something that used to hold him back. Now it’s letting him devour me completely.
And that’s exactly what he does.
He pours all that intensity into me, flooding my veins with heat. With every flick of his tongue, I’m burning hotter.
I barely register Talon moving in behind him. But then I feel his fingers as they glide up my side, snag on the hem of my shirt, and start to pull it up.
Cassian pulls back just enough to growl against my lips, “Especially if he’s too much.”
“Mhm,” I murmur.
Little does Cassian know, none of this is too much.
At least, not yet.
Because the way Talon touches me? This won’t be a surge. It’ll be a goddamn detonation.
I know it already.
His palms slide higher, dragging my shirt over my head, slow enough to savor it, fast enough to mean it. The fabric snags at my elbows before he helps peel it off, tossing it somewhere into the dark.
I’m bare to the waist now, nipples hard and aching just from the way they’re looking at me.
Cassian exhales, low and sharp, like it almost hurts.
He’s still gripping my jaw, still holding me close. His eyes drop to my chest, and that’s when Talon moves again.
He leans in from behind, one knee on the seat, and presses a hot, open-mouthed kiss to my throat. His hand curves under my breast, lifts it slightly, and his thumb brushes over my nipple.
I gasp, my whole body jolting from the spark that shoots between my legs.
Cassian doesn’t like that.
His hand fists in my hair, yanking my head back—not cruel, but firm enough to make it clear he’s not used to sharing. Not like this.
“Fucking hell, Skye,” he growls. “Is this really what you want?”
“Yes,” I breathe, helpless, shameless. “Yes, Cassian.”
For the power. For the moment. For the way Talon’s mouth teases my neck while Cassian grips my hair like he owns me. The contrast of it all. One is discipline and steel, the other chaos and grin. And me? I can’t help but love it.
Nathaniel shifts beneath me. I glance down. His eyes are heavy-lidded, his whole body wound tight. His tongue flicks over the piercing in his lip like he’s barely holding it together.
A rare sight.