Atlas, Part 1 (A Four Horsemen Companion Duet)

Chapter 12

Atlas and his team encountered no resistance as they drove through the quiet streets. The eerie silence haunted Atlas, a reminder of just how much he’d failed. It should have been rush-hour traffic time. Instead, not a soul wandered in this city. Another ghost town, added to all the others in the world.

They stopped four blocks from the target building, both from necessity and because the congestion made it hard to get a vehicle around the debris and cars that had been left as their drivers and passengers had attempted to flee.

“Alright, listen up,” Jeremy said as they all exited the jeep. “This is a recon mission. We’ve all done one, we know the drill; the aim is to gather information and get out. We’re not here to engage or to die.”

“Is that why we’re armed to the teeth?” Cory asked with a smirk. He fist-bumped Liam.

“A precaution, in case the whole mission goes fubar. You’ve all fought these things; you know how much of a beating they can take before they go down. I want four of us to walk in and four of us to walk out, got it?”

“Yes, sir,” they echoed.

Atlas glanced behind himself as they set a sedate pace, heading for their location. The jog through the streets ended up being as uneventful as the car ride. Atlas had to admit to some disappointment. If the numbers were that high, shouldn’t they have seen something already? Had the scouts gotten it wrong? It looked exactly like the dead zone they’d marked it as.

Something niggling in the back of his mind made him turn. He caught a figure disappearing around a corner. He made the “hold-up” sign and squinted. No sign of what had caught his eye. Fuck.

“What is it?” Jeremy asked. “Did you see something?”

Atlas slowly shook his head. “I thought—but no. Let’s keep moving.”

Except that he couldn’t help but feel they were being watched. Nothing in their vicinity, no matter how many times he checked their six and the rest of their surroundings, substantiated the weird feeling in his stomach.

He trusted his instincts, but everything around them said they were alone.

“You keep stopping,” Jeremy said quietly. “Is there something I need to know? Are we walking into a trap?”

Atlas’s gaze flicked around them. “No,” he said shortly, gripping his weapon tighter. It didn’t feel sinister, though he knew he wasn’t wrong. Something was following them.

Jeremy hesitated, glancing around himself as if he’d be able to see something. Then he gave a sharp nod and signaled for them to keep going.

In no time, they were crouched at the corner of a building, facing their destination. The plan had been to get there undetected, but Atlas hadn’t actually expected them to be able to do that.

“Looks quiet,” Cory said. “Are we in the right place?”

“According to intel,” Jeremy said. He shifted his weapon and shrugged. “Maybe it’s nap time?”

Atlas snorted out a laugh. “Think we’re that lucky?” Did those things need naps? Raziel had slept after they’d had sex. Otherwise, he’d never seen any of them sleep, and Conquest and Famine had just… always been around? Now that he thought about it, it did seem strange that they didn’t require rest.

Jeremy grinned boyishly and winked at him. “Only one way to find out, right? There’s an underground parking lot, left side of the building, and that’s the way we’re getting in. We go down and come up right in the center of the place. Don’t forget: no engagement unless it’s a life-and-death scenario. Let’s find out what these bastards are doing in there and get out so that we can bring the intel back. They can’t do anything if we end up dead.” Jeremy stood and checked his rifle. A habit Atlas knew personally. “There’s not many of us left, but what we have, we’re gonna fight for.”

They got to the underground parking entrance without incident. Atlas would be surprised if they found anything inside, considering the lack of anything while approaching it. Wild-goose chases that wasted his fucking time were Atlas’s favorite.

The smell hit first as they descended, before they saw the pile of bodies. Or more accurately, the pit of bodies. The Demons had dug out the concrete and the ground beneath to create a large hole, where dozens of bodies had been thrown. Not just human remains. Demon as well. Some intact, others… not so much. Atlas discreetly buried his nose in his forearm to stop from gagging.

“What the fuck?” Cory whispered, not quite as successful in stemming his own gagging. Liam turned and threw up, one hand bracing himself on the wall.

“I haven’t been here in a while,” Jeremy mused, rubbing his bearded chin thoughtfully. “I’m not sure I like what they’ve done with the place.”

“It’s not really my style,” Liam said weakly. He heaved again, but nothing more came out. That could only do good things for the smell. “I like my decorations with fewer… limbs and blood.”

Atlas shuffled forward to a nearby pillar, peering around it at the rest of the parking area. He was more concerned about the lack of enemies than the decor choices. He wasn’t in the mood to get ambushed or stabbed in the back. Some of those bodies were fresh. Were the ones responsible still close by?

Jeremy tapped him on the shoulder. “There are two sets of stairs down here, one left, one right. Elevators are out of commission, and I wouldn’t use them even if they weren’t. Cory and Liam are going left. You’re stuck with me.”

Atlas ignored the suggestive smile that accompanied the words. He nodded stiffly, unsure splitting up was the best course of action.

As if reading the question on his face—or the skepticism—Jeremy said, “Smaller groups are less noticeable, and they know how to keep quiet.”

Atlas tightened his grip on his weapon and stood, quietly following Jeremy through the parking lot, their footsteps almost silent as they moved. He had given the man the lead for a reason. If Atlas was just going to dismiss his leadership for an arbitrary reason, then he should have saved himself the trouble and just led from the start.

Keeping low, they made their way up the narrow emergency stairwell and then through to the ground floor. It opened into a spacious atrium. Atlas had never set foot in the place before —he preferred quieter shopping haunts and purchased anything else he needed online—but he doubted it had looked like this before. He fuckin’ hoped so anyway. Or their decor really was questionable.

Flickering lights, bloody windows and floors, some in recognizable patterns like footprints and others large puddles and drag lines that disappeared into several storefronts. Bodies and pieces of bodies were strewn about, entrails dangling over the balconies, reaching high up the ten stories.

“Looks like they had a party in here,” Jeremy remarked.

Not any kind of party Atlas wanted to participate in. “Are they sleeping off the drunk somewhere else?” Had they done the damage and then left? Or were they lying in wait here somewhere?

Either way, there had to be something here.

“Let’s sweep each shop on this side and then head to the second floor,” Jeremy suggested.

Atlas didn’t think this was going to go as smoothly as Jeremy seemed to. In his limited experience with these assholes, something unexpected always happened. They didn’t play by the same rules. They didn’t play by any rules.

They didn’t find anything worthwhile on the first floor. More bodies, damaged shops, and a ransacked donut cafe. Atlas could have killed someone for a donut right about then. Or a cookie that Victory wouldn’t steal from him. A fucking Twinkie. If it had sugar, he’d be happy. Was there a supermarket here? Maybe they could take a look for surveillance purposes.

Cory and Liam waited for them at the escalators and confirmed they hadn’t found anything interesting either.

Splitting up again on the second floor, Atlas and Jeremy stuck to their side of the building. They found what they were looking for in a designer clothing store. Sort of?

All the clothes in the store were piled in the middle of the plush white carpeted floor, and a huge pile of Demons—along with human corpses—were curled together and… sleeping. Like a giant puppy pile that could have been cute except for the part where the Demons looked like horrifying red gremlins with tails, and there were severed limbs and detached heads being held like teddies. Christ, they were actually cuddling them. Atlas’s stomach twisted uncomfortably when he noticed the bite marks. More akin to chew toys than teddies.

Atlas bit back another gag. This entire plaza was a fucking nightmare. He didn’t want to know what kind of horrors had been inflicted here.

He and Jeremy retreated to a safe distance on the other side of the balcony, putting the gaping open space looking down on the first floor between them. They had a clear view of the store in case any of them woke up and caused trouble, but they were far enough away to be able to speak without waking them. And it gave them a head start if they needed to run.

“What now?” Atlas asked.

“How many more piles like that do you think there are in here?” Jeremy questioned, shuffling on his feet. He ran his fingers through his hair, shaking it out a bit, some of the brown strands sticking up.

“More than just that one.” Atlas guaranteed it. It almost looked like they were using the building as some kind of nesting ground. A place to rest after they’d tired themselves out wreaking havoc and turning Atlas’s world into their fucked-up playground.

Anger boiled in his chest. He wanted to toss a grenade into the pile and tear them to pieces. Watch as their limbs were strewn about like so much fucking waste. Or a fucking Molotov and watch them burn and scream as their skin shriveled and crisped. Even that kind of torture would be too good for them. He’d be able to find the supplies that they would need to make some.

“I say we level the building,” Atlas said through pursed lips. He hated all of them so much that it was hard to find room inside himself for anything else. “Find where each nest is, come back with enough explosives to catch them all at once.”

Jeremy whistled low. “Damn, I like the way you think.”

Atlas wasn’t thinking, only reacting, so goddamn sick of how many of these vermin were invading, how easily they roamed without any real resistance.

He wanted them all dead. Every single fucking one of them.

“You know, you’re pretty hot when you’re all flushed and angry like that.”

Atlas was momentarily distracted from his thoughts of vengeance as the words registered. “What?” No, he couldn’t have heard right. Why would Jeremy say that while they were in the middle of an op?

“Is that too forward? I’m not generally one for holding back my compliments, and considering we’re at the end of the world, it feels like a waste not to show my hand. I find you extremely attractive. Your jawline is incredible.”

His jawline? “I don’t…” Atlas cleared his throat. What the fuck? He’d seen the looks, of course, but hadn’t thought the guy would just come right out and say something that Atlas would have to respond to. To reject. “This isn’t an appropriate place for this.”

He regretted his words as soon as they came out. He’d made it sound like he’d be open to it at a more “appropriate” location. And he wouldn’t be. Ever.

“Later, perhaps?” Jeremy said, proving him right.

Dammit. Atlas could admit that Jeremy was handsome, and he’d thought about it for half a second. Less than that. Ultimately, he fell way short of what Atlas really wanted. Who Atlas really wanted. Worlds apart and Atlas didn’t think he’d ever be able to close that gap with anyone else ever again. Conquest had been right. He’d never touch another person again, because they’d used up every piece of him, and there was nothing left for anyone else.

Fuck the Horseman for making him feel like this and then just fucking leaving, like Atlas was yesterday’s news. He needed to be punched in the face. With a combat knife. Repeatedly. And then kissed.

“I can see the ‘no’ on your face,” Jeremy said with a chuckle. “Gotta take a chance and shoot your shot, though, right? We should keep searching and let Liam and Cory know what we found. Figure out roughly how many ‘nests’ there are and then leave. The longer we linger, the more likely they are to wake up and cause us all sorts of trouble.” He grinned with a malicious edge.

“It’s not that—it’s…” How could Atlas even begin to explain? A Horseman and an Angel turned me inside out, and I’m pretty sure they aren’t coming back, but they told me I had to wait, regardless, so that’s what I’m doing? That sounded certifiably insane—and pathetic—even before he said it out loud. Not a “that sounded better in my head” situation.

“Did you lose someone?” Jeremy asked, stepping closer. He brushed hair from Atlas’s forehead, a featherlight touch. “I did too.” He laughed bitterly. “Most of us have. There’s not many of us left, and we all know we’re next, right? Even with the help of those… whatever they are, the Horsemen that you’ve been working with? There’s still not really any hope. We fight, but we’re fighting for a good death, not a happy ending.” His thumb smoothed over Atlas’s cheek, and Atlas forced himself not to pull away. He had every right to take what Jeremy was offering: a few hours of comfort in each other’s bodies. Harmless fun. Conquest didn’t own him. Neither of them did.

But he couldn’t. He knew he would never be able to go through with it. He only wanted two men. An uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach that would remain for the rest of his life, no matter how long or short-lived it was. Were they coming back? It had only been two weeks. Half his forces had been decimated in that time, every attack a desperate attempt to survive.

He shifted a foot back, intending to pull away, when the fog opened not ten feet from them. Conquest strode through, looking fucking stunning: a glorious warrior, with his armor covered in blood, his cape ripped, and his skin coated with a sheen of sweat.

Fucking hell , he’d missed this asshole so damn much. He’d buried it deep, trying his best to ignore it. He could live without them for fourteen days . But there was no ignoring how much he’d been lying to himself now; it roared to the surface, drowning him in it until he couldn’t breathe.

Conquest was here .

Atlas would have gone to him, greeted him exactly how he wanted to—which involved less talking and more getting his mouth on him. Except that the dark, thunderous expression on his face didn’t feel particularly welcoming.

Jeremy’s hand dropped as he turned to face the new arrival. Realization hit like a lead weight. Jeremy had moved, but the damage was already done. Probably made worse by the fact that Atlas hadn’t been the one to move.

Conquest didn’t say a word as he stalked closer, the heavy thud of his boots like a bell signaling the end.

Jeremy didn’t have a chance to get in a greeting before Conquest had him against the wall, hand fisting his uniform. It shouldn’t have pleased Atlas to note that he wasn’t touching skin, that Conquest hadn’t wrapped a hand around his throat, not the way he did with Atlas. Someone in this situation was fucked up, and it wasn’t Conquest.

“Did I give you permission to touch him?” Conquest snarled. “How about I cut off your hands so you can’t ever touch anyone again? I’ll start with your fingers, one by one. Then go up your wrist and your forearm, cutting off pieces.”

“Put him down,” Atlas said, a growling tremble in his tone. “This has nothing to do with him.”

Jeremy’s terrified eyes flitted between them. He’d dropped his weapon when Conquest had grabbed him and didn’t try to fight the hold. Not the way Atlas would have. Had done before.

“No? I think it has everything to do with him.”

Atlas pulled out his combat knife and flipped it in his hand. “Let him go, now.”

Conquest tossed Jeremy off the side of the balcony.

Fucking Christ . Atlas surged toward the railing, gripping it as he peered over. Jeremy had twisted and was getting to his feet, a bit shaky but otherwise somehow miraculously unharmed. Relief was like a physical weight against Atlas’s heart. He couldn’t be responsible for the death of someone, not like this.

“What the fuck ?” he snarled through gritted teeth, whirling on Conquest.

Purple energy crackled around Conquest. He threw it at the glass railing, shattering it and forcing Atlas away from it or to risk falling. Conquest moved closer but not to Atlas. To the edge . Would he try to finish the job? No, Atlas couldn’t let him do that.

Conquest showed teeth when Atlas moved into his path with a hand to his chest, blocking him. “Protecting your new pet, Atlas ?”

He said Atlas’s name like a curse. “Stop.” Atlas wouldn’t have Jeremy’s blood on his hands.

“Do I have to kill you in order to keep others from you?” Conquest asked. His tone screamed “danger,” and Atlas took a hasty step backward.

“That wouldn’t be… my first preference.”

“And what would your preference be? Anyone that shows interest and wants a quick fuck?”

“Fuck off,” Atlas said angrily. “I’ve told you already that I’m not your property!”

“I think you need a lesson in just who gives the orders around here.”

“Stay the fuck away from me.” Another step back to put distance between them. He almost tripped as Conquest advanced on him with a murderous glint in his gray eyes. Is this when he would die?

Not today. Not after everything. He twisted and bolted, right into a nearby Target. He sprinted through the clothing section and over to where the tall aisles would effectively hide him.

Conquest’s heavy footsteps followed him, echoing in the dead space. Quick steps without rushing. Complete confidence he would find his prey.

Atlas was no one’s prey.

He stopped, leaning back against a display of children’s toys, breathing heavily. Fuck, fuck, fuck . An exit. He needed to find an exit. He had no hope of fighting the Horseman in this mood.

“You forget, Angel-born,” Conquest said, voice booming, “that I can feel you. There’s nowhere on Earth you can hide.”

“Then I’ll go to Hell!” Atlas spat. His eyes closed for a heartbeat, and then he took off, down to the book section. Please have a second exit from this fucking place. They were on the second floor, but some of the stores had back doors with stairs. As long as it took him outside so he could get lost in the streets, it was enough for him.

“Hell came to you, darling, and it’s not going anywhere.”

“I’m not your darling.” Fuck, he hoped that Cory and Liam returned from their sweep and found Jeremy so they could get him to safety. He hadn’t deserved the Horseman’s ire, and Atlas should have done more to avoid it.

“Then what are you?”

The sound of Conquest’s footsteps came from all directions, not giving Atlas any indication where he was or how far away. He could be right around the corner for all he knew. What a bullshit advantage.

Atlas checked the center aisle, ducking his head out quickly, and then headed right out of the store. He went into the jewelry store across the way, glad that he was near one of the “bridges” connecting the two sides of the balcony. He vaulted over the glass counter inside, easily sliding across to the other side.

The back door was locked. Mother fucker .

He rattled the knob violently just in case it was only stuck or something. No such luck. Conquest’s footsteps moved closer, a rhythmic thud thud thud that stabbed at Atlas’s heart. He needed to get the fuck out of there before Conquest found him.

A few swift kicks with his combat boot broke the lock, and Atlas pushed through. Please be a store that has a back door. Something lucky had to eventually happen to him, right?

He’d barely taken a few steps into the back storage room when the door slammed shut behind him, shrouding him in darkness. He froze, pulse throbbing in his throat.

He wasn’t alone.

Muffled steps around him and sparks of purple-like lightning illuminated the darkness for a breathless heartbeat. It blinded him, suffocated him. Consumed him .

“I was very clear, Atlas.”

Atlas’s heart clenched. There had to be another door in here, one that would lead him outside. If there wasn’t, he was dead. The truth of the answer had claws of panic digging into him.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” he couldn’t help but shoot back. It didn’t matter if it gave away his position. Conquest already knew. He was playing with Atlas.

“I laid out the rules for you to follow. In return, I allowed you to touch Raziel.”

“Which rule is this one? The one where I have to kiss your ass, or the one where you leave and don’t bother letting me know if you’re coming back?” Atlas asked sarcastically. The latter hurt more than he would ever admit. To be left like he didn’t matter. Was he really supposed to have just sat around with his thumb up his ass, waiting for them to bother gracing him with their presence?

It didn’t matter that it was exactly what he had done. Conquest didn’t need to know that he would wait for them forever.

He wasn’t listening, anyway, and Atlas didn’t feel the need to flay himself open to reveal the vulnerable parts of himself.

A ghost of a touch brushed against Atlas’s back, and he burst into action, letting instinct guide him. Please be a door, please be a fucking door.

In the end, the existence of a door didn’t matter. A heavy weight knocked into him, and they went down, Conquest pinning him to the carpet.

“Get the fuck off me.” Atlas twisted in a futile attempt to dislodge him.

“Is that what you think is going to happen?” Conquest slid his hand under Atlas, squeezing his throat. He forced his legs apart with a shove of his knees. “I’m going to fuck you, Atlas, just like this and make you feel every fucking inch of me. I’m going to force myself so deep until you scream my name and know that you belong to me , and you will allow no one except Raziel and me to touch you.”

“Fuck you!”

Conquest lifted him by his throat and turned his head, kissing him angrily. Atlas bit down on Conquest’s lip. He felt Conquest’s answering grin, like he was enjoying Atlas’s anger.

Pleasure shouldn’t have rocked through him when Conquest tore at his uniform, ripping it clear from his body. But he couldn’t deny that his cock was hard and heavy, and his body ached for Conquest to do what he wanted. He was so fucking pathetic for this man.

Conquest rolled his hips, forcing pressure against Atlas’s ass. “Do you need a cock in your ass so bad that any will do?”

Before Raziel and Conquest, Atlas had never had any cock in his ass. Had never wanted it, or craved it, not the way he did with these two men that gave him so many conflicted feelings.

Atlas fought him even as Conquest forced his head back down to the floor and mimicked fucking him hard enough that his spine rattled. Hard enough that his cock was like steel and rubbed against the carpet in a blinding mix of pain and pleasure. He hated that his body wanted it, hated more that he couldn’t feel Conquest’s body, only the fabric of the Horseman’s pants.

The pressure against his ass disappeared, and Atlas let out an involuntary, needy moan. It quickly morphed into something more guttural as three thick fingers—lubed, somehow—shoved into him without warning. It still hurt, and thank fuck Conquest still cared enough to bother using lube at all. Atlas clenched his hands against the floor, his back arching, unconsciously seeking more.

Conquest fingered him violently, shoving in and twisting on each thrust, stabbing his prostate without mercy. Fuckfuckfuck . Why was it so good? Is this what he’d needed all this time, or was it just this man that made him feel this greedy and desperate?

“No one has ever made you feel like this. Admit it.” When Atlas didn’t answer, Conquest slapped Atlas’s ass hard enough to sting. And worse, he stilled his fingers.

“No,” Atlas moaned. Needing them this badly would only ever end disastrously, and he couldn’t stop himself. He’d missed them while they were gone. He barely knew them, and they’d still left a hole he knew he’d never be able to fill.

“Tell me, or this stops,” Conquest said in that unbelievably sexy rumble of his.

“It’s already stopped.” The fucker . Atlas made another attempt to get away, more for show than any real desire to get away. It merely resulted in a large hand splayed across his back, holding him down with disconcerting ease. How much had Conquest been holding back before? Atlas had known he was alive only because Conquest allowed it, but this brought it home in stark resolution. He could do whatever he wanted to Atlas, and there was nothing Atlas could do about it.

Instead of scaring him—which it really fucking should have considering he’d tossed a guy off a fucking balcony just for touching Atlas—it made his cock throb and his gut clench, his body begging Conquest to give him more . “Do it,” he growled, low and throaty. “Do it.” It didn’t come out like a request, more a pleading begging that Atlas couldn’t control.

Conquest’s huge cock breached him with a sharp, unexpected snap of his hips. In a single moment, Atlas went from being empty and wanting to impossibly full. He screamed, his back arching painfully as agony and pleasure vied for control. Both radiated from his hole and across his entire body, a direct line to his nerves.

Conquest kept his hand around Atlas’s throat, lifting him up until Atlas was on his knees, back pressed against his hard chest. He hammered into Atlas with little regard for his pleasure. Or maybe he knew that the sharp pain had already given way to uncontrollable tremors and boneshaking need. It wasn’t as simple as wanting pleasure; it was the knowledge that if Conquest stopped touching him, his whole world would never be the same. Empty. Silent. Dark.

Gasping for breath, his hole being stretched and abused, it was the most alive Atlas had ever felt. A precarious step between death and life and overwhelming everything .

He scratched at Conquest’s arm and the hand that squeezed around his throat, his nails digging in. To get rid of him or urge him on and keep close, Atlas had no idea. Did it really matter?

“This ass belongs to me,” Conquest growled, his deep voice sinking low in Atlas’s belly and heightening his arousal to a dangerous degree. “Every breath you take is mine .” He leaned down, lips against Atlas’s ear, hot and panting. “If I see anyone touch you again, you will both regret it for eternity.” He punctuated every word with a violent thrust, the carpet burning Atlas’s knees.

“You don’t own me,” Atlas gritted out. He didn’t believe those words any more than Conquest did, but he couldn’t let the asshole think he’d won. That Atlas was so lost for them that he accepted ownership . He wouldn’t, not when he didn’t know if they intended to keep him.

“No?” Conquest had Atlas on his back so quickly that Atlas barely felt the loss of the cock inside him before Conquest was shoving himself back in, filling him so completely that Atlas’s entire focus was on his ass and the ache that accompanied the pure, mindless satisfaction.

Conquest’s large body covered him, a heavy weight pressing him into the floor as he forced himself so deep inside Atlas that his back arched automatically, both to accommodate and to get away. He struggled to pull oxygen into his lungs against the onslaught.

“How about now?” Conquest’s mouth hovered over his, the perfect tease. Atlas lifted his chin, reaching for it, wanting to feel it more than he cared about breathing. Conquest didn’t give it to him, instead moving to bite down on his collarbone. Pain radiated out along with sparks of something altogether more dangerous. Obsession.

Atlas had to touch him. He hungrily clawed at Conquest’s thick, muscled arms, pulling him closer so that he could feel that dangerous mouth over his.

“Say it, and I’ll give you what you want,” Conquest whispered. A sinful promise that Atlas would sell his soul to have.

Atlas bucked his hips, helping Conquest get deeper as he fucked harder into Atlas’s welcoming body. There wasn’t pain anymore, only a mind-numbing frenzy. It still wasn’t enough.

“You own me,” Atlas burst out, not caring about keeping it to himself. He would say and do anything that Conquest asked of him. Give him every single piece that he demanded, so long as he never stopped touching. Never stopped looking at him like this.

Conquest held Atlas’s hips and thrust so hard that Atlas lifted off the ground. He scrambled for purchase as his back bowed, and his bones rattled under the force.

“More,” Conquest demanded.

More? More what ? Oh. His words tumbled out of him like a prayer. “No one could ever compare to the two of you,” he admitted. A terrifying truth, one binding his soul to theirs forever.

Conquest rewarded him with a kiss. Except it wasn’t a kiss. It was a complete, all-consuming owning. Conquest licked and nipped and took everything until Atlas was nothing but a vessel for his pleasure. How could one person’s kiss be so intense? Atlas couldn’t think, or remain prone, desperate for any contact he could get. He reached wherever he could, nails finding purchase on Conquest’s skin and tearing at it as he gave himself over, letting Conquest in too deep. Atlas tugged him closer, begging and squirming and pushing down as Conquest thrust in, pain shooting up his spine as he bathed in pleasure.

When Conquest tore his mouth from Atlas’s with a growl, Atlas only shifted his trajectory, teeth latching on to Conquest’s shoulder, his hands hanging on at the same time. With his legs spread wide and Conquest pounding into him, he felt like nothing more than a toy. One being thoroughly used and enjoying every fucking second of it.

Atlas couldn’t get a second of composure to touch himself, his achingly hard cock sliding between them as Conquest continued to fuck him for what felt like forever.

Until Atlas had nothing left except a crackling of arousal, like lightning constantly striking him. Stretched impossibly wide with every brutal thrust, Conquest forced his body to accommodate the intrusion. Slick with sweat, Atlas leaked pre-cum like a faucet. His balls drew up, so close he could almost taste it. Even so, coming didn’t matter; it was hardly the point anymore. Atlas floated beyond pleasures of the flesh, timeless, complete .

He dragged Conquest’s mouth back to his, a dull ache accompanying it, his mouth swollen and abused. There wasn’t a part of him that wasn’t pleasantly throbbing with pain. Conquest’s hands and mouth and body had touched every inch of him. If Conquest didn’t heal so fast himself, Atlas knew there would have been bruises and scratches from how hard Atlas held him, the scraping of his nails as he cried out and whimpered. He couldn’t hold back the sounds any more than he could stop needing this infuriating Horseman and his devastatingly perfect Angel.

“It’s time for you to come for me,” Conquest said huskily. “Because your body is mine, and it will do what I want, when I want.”

Atlas was too far gone to deny it. He would be lying if he did. Whatever he wanted.

His orgasm was less an explosion and more like a tornado inside him, ripping through him. He’d passed out and flown among the stars, a timeless out-of-body experience.

He barely noticed Conquest seeking his own finish, too lost and still shuddering with the aftershocks. It felt like it would never end, that he would be suspended like this forever, tender and so indescribably satiated.

He collapsed back, spread wide on the carpet, boneless. He could fall asleep right there, with Conquest covering him like a weighted blanket. It would be so easy. He’d never felt safer than he did in Conquest’s arms.

Raziel suddenly appeared at his side and kissed him so softly that Atlas thought he might die from it. So the opposite of the brutal fuck that still had his body throbbing, his skin raw and sensitive to the touch.

His eyes fluttered closed as Raziel’s lips moved down his throat, across his shoulders, down his chest. He kissed every bruise and every section of broken skin from Atlas’s session with Conquest, like he was trying to heal all the hurts. The utter worship he showed every inch of Atlas undid him. Fingers fluttered across skin, lips brushed over him and murmured words that Atlas didn’t understand. The words didn’t matter; having them cover him was enough for everything else to wash away. A cleansing of body and soul.

Conquest broke him, and Raziel put him back together. Yin and Yang. Balance. Perfection.

“Bring him a change of clothes,” Conquest said quietly.

Raziel nodded wordlessly, glancing back at them before leaving.

Conquest lifted Atlas into his arms, ignoring Atlas’s protests that he could walk on his own. His stomach dropped out from under him when Conquest walked out onto the balcony and then casually launched off the ground, all the way up onto the fourth floor, landing with a thud .

How had they not woken the Demons sleeping nearby? Atlas hadn’t been quiet, and there had been more than a few of them in the puppy pile.

“Where is the enemy?” Atlas asked, clinging to Conquest and willing his rapidly beating heart to calm.

“The ones resting? They won’t wake.”

“Did you kill them?”

“When would I have had time to do that? No, when they rest like this, it’s more akin to hibernation. They’ve exhausted themselves on bloodlust and won’t wake until they’re replenished. It’s why they do it in piles like that, to protect each other.” Conquest took them into a nearby gym and then through to the locker room where the showers were located. “If you touched one of them, they would wake. But you could ring a gong right next to them, and they wouldn’t even twitch. They’re feeling bold indeed to be doing it on the surface and not in Hell.”

Feeling bold because they’d all but slaughtered the entire human population.

When Conquest put Atlas on his feet, he wobbled and grabbed hold of the Horseman’s large forearm to brace himself. Maybe there was something to being carried after all. Not that he would ever admit that. Conquest didn’t need his ego stroked. He was made of ego.

Raziel returned shortly after Atlas had sorted the water spray and stepped under it. The hot water stung first as it hit all the parts of him that hurt. Then it gave way to a soothing warmth. Atlas tipped his head back, closing his eyes and letting it wash over him.

When he opened them again, he found Raziel and Conquest both standing away from him. Watching. Did Conquest not need to shower? It figured they had some weird magical way of cleaning themselves, the assholes.

When they didn’t make a move to either join him, or turn around, or go somewhere else, or do anything else , Atlas lost his patience. “Are you just going to stare at me?” he asked, feeling weirdly self-conscious on top of everything else. They’d already seen him naked; it wasn’t like there was anything new. Except they’d been naked too.

“Yes,” Conquest said simply. “It seems that we need to keep more of an eye on you.”

“You’re fucking kidding me, right?” Atlas frowned. He didn’t need a goddamn keeper. “If you’re talking about Jeremy, you can fuck off.”

“I suggest you keep his name out of your mouth,” Conquest said dangerously.

Atlas bristled with anger. “I know what you think, and you’re wrong. I didn’t do anything, and I wasn’t planning on it. If you choose not to believe me, that’s on you.” Fuck him for thinking otherwise. As if there was room for anyone else when they took up all the oxygen around him.

“You’ve done nothing but the opposite of what I’ve told you since the moment we met,” Conquest replied. “I should have expected that loyalty wasn’t one of your finer traits.”

Was he serious? Atlas sneered angrily, fists curling at his hips. If Conquest were closer, Atlas would have punched him in his smug fucking face. “That’s bullshit . And I’m not the one that fucked off for weeks without bothering to tell me where they were going or how long they’d be gone.” Christ, he sounded like a needy boyfriend. Fucking hell, he couldn’t believe he’d become this pathetic.

“We couldn’t,” Raziel said, almost apologetically. Guilt stabbed at Atlas. Raziel didn’t deserve to be in the middle of the conflict between Conquest and him. “We were hunting.”

“Hunting? The Archangels?” From everything he understood, Conquest was a master tracker. It had taken them two weeks to find two of them?

“Archangels are not easy prey,” Conquest said. “And we found them easily enough. Finding them wasn’t the goal; we needed to know what they’re doing here in the first place. They don’t often grace your kind with their presence.”

He still said your kind like Atlas and the rest of humanity were a stain on the underside of his boot. Atlas hated the way it sounded and how much truth there was in it. They really were nothing compared to the might of the Horsemen and all those that surrounded them.

“Great, good for them.” Atlas turned his back, perfunctorily cleaning himself despite the fact he didn’t have the supplies he needed to get properly clean. He could have another shower on base, he didn’t care. He had no desire to linger. He needed to find the three men he’d just abandoned to get fucked by Conquest in a dark storeroom and get back to base.

“We couldn’t return while we hunted for fear it would lead them back to you,” Conquest said finally. “You would have become more of a target than you already are.”

Atlas stiffened. He braced his hands on the tiles and bent forward, letting the water run down his neck and across his back. They’d been protecting him?

He couldn’t have this conversation while he was naked. He grabbed the towel that Raziel had left beside the set of clothes he’d gathered and quickly dried himself. Once done, he dragged on the clothes. The long-sleeved, light-blue button-down shirt was a little loose, but the black sweatpants fit alright. He put his own socks and combat boots back on, glad that he had at least something familiar to wear.

Of course, now that he was dressed, he didn’t know what to say. He had nothing to apologize for. Why did it feel like he did?

“I left you my horse,” Conquest said, speaking first.

As if that answered everything. Maybe it did. She could travel away from him to wherever she wanted, but she hadn’t in all that time. Not until Atlas had ordered her to stay behind. Had she gone to tattle on him or something?

“Why does Conquest think you did something?” Raziel asked, voice small.

Atlas crossed his arms over his chest. “I didn’t do anything,” he repeated. “I—” Now wasn’t the time for him to hold back. Not after everything. Conquest had given him something in that room, something more than physical, and he had to give something back. “The both of you have ruined me for anyone. You were right that I can’t even breathe without your permission. Hell, I can’t even think properly when you’re around. You let me into your world, a place I’m not even sure I want to be, and it terrifies me that I would give anything to stay with you in it anyway. Make sacrifices that I shouldn’t.” He dropped his arms, hating how vulnerable he sounded. How vulnerable he felt . Maybe they hadn’t left for good last time, but eventually they would. They lived forever, and Atlas was on borrowed time.

“You let him touch you.”

A lifetime of regret would come from one single touch that he hadn’t even wanted. “I’m sorry.” It had meant less than nothing, had been less than that. A barely there touch of fingers that he shouldn’t have let happen. Regardless of the facts that Conquest wouldn’t listen to, Atlas refused to allow him to make it into something it wasn’t or use it as a way to put distance between them. “I would like to note that it could barely be considered a touch, and if you hadn’t stepped in a millisecond later, I would have put a stop to it.”

“Noted.”

Atlas rolled his eyes. He’d all but confessed he was stupid obsessed with them—which he would consider far worse than love—and Conquest had brushed it off like it was a given. Of everything, that was the part that shouldn’t surprise him.

Conquest froze, head tilting, no longer focused on him but somewhere else entirely. Atlas immediately tensed, reaching for a weapon that wasn’t there. Fuck . They were all downstairs, where Conquest had ripped all his clothes off. How could he defend himself? Defend them ?

Raziel held up his combat knife and the strap that would wrap around his thigh. “I couldn’t find the gun,” he apologized quietly. “But we’ll protect you from anything, don’t worry.”

“Thank you.” He didn’t know what he was thanking him for. Everything?

Their fingers slid together as Raziel handed it over, eyes meeting with a spark of electricity. Atlas itched to yank him closer, touch him, kiss him. He always wanted to. He would spend the rest of his life wanting to.

“We have to go,” Conquest said abruptly, already moving toward the door without a glance back.

“What is it?” Raziel asked as Atlas strapped his knife on.

“Death has found War.”