His hand cupped my cheek, thumb brushing across my skin. "You're amazing, you know that?"
The tenderness in his voice undid something in me. All the tension, fear, and uncertainty of the past days crystallized into a sudden, desperate need for connection. I leaned forward, capturing his mouth with mine, hungry and demanding.
He responded immediately, backing me against the wall with surprising force. His hands gripped my hips, fingers digging in possessively. The kiss was frantic, messy, both of us pouring everything we couldn't say into the contact.
"I need—" I gasped against his mouth.
"I know," he breathed, already working at the button of my jeans. "Me too."
There was no time for finesse, for slow exploration. This was raw necessity, a claiming of life in the face of chaos. My hands fumbled with his belt, yanking it open as he pushed my jeans down just enough. When he lifted my leg up, pinning me against the wall with his body, I wrapped my other leg around his waist, desperate for the friction, the connection.
He entered me in one swift motion that pulled a cry from my throat, which he swallowed with another kiss. The angle was perfect, hitting exactly where I needed him most.
"Winter," he groaned against my neck, his pace fast and relentless. "Fuck, I?—"
"Don't stop," I urged, clutching his shoulders, feeling the power in them as he held me. "Please don't stop."
We moved together frantically, still mostly clothed, the urgency between us building to something transcendent. The blue markings on my skin began to glow, pulsing with each thrust, each gasping breath. Milo's eyes widened as he noticed, but if anything, the sight spurred him on.
"You're glowing," his voice ragged with desire. "So beautiful."
The pleasure built impossibly high, cresting and breaking over me in waves that had me crying out his name. He followed moments later, his forehead pressed against mine, our breath mingling as we rode out the aftershocks together.
For several heartbeats, we remained locked together, trembling and breathless. The markings on my skin gradually dimmed, returning to their normal blue luminescence.
"That was..." Milo began.
"Yeah," I agreed, unable to find better words.
He lowered me gently, both of us adjusting our clothing with shaky hands and breathless laughter.
"I came in here to check if you were okay," he ran a hand through his disheveled curls. "Got a bit distracted."
"I think I needed that," I confessed, leaning against his chest. "To feel something normal and human in the middle of all this prophecy stuff."
He wrapped his arms around me, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "Any time. Seriously. Any time at all."
A discreet knock at the door frame startled us. Fenric stood there, pointedly looking anywhere but at our flushed faces and rumpled clothing.
"The Bureau car will arrive in a few minutes," he announced with careful neutrality. "I suggest we be ready to depart promptly."
"Thanks, Fen," I fought back a hysterical giggle.
As he turned to leave, I caught his eye and mouthed "later" with a meaningful look that made his ears turn pink. He gave a nearly imperceptible nod before disappearing down the hallway.
Milo laughed softly against my hair. "I think we scandalized him."
"Probably not for the last time," I reluctantly pulled away to finish packing.
We gathered on the porch,bags at our feet, as the black Bureau SUV pulled up the gravel driveway. Horrace perched on my shoulder, his tentacles loosely wrapped around my neck in what felt like a cautious embrace. He still didn't remember me, not really, but he was trying, and that had to be enough for now.
"Ready?" Zane asked, standing beside me.
I nodded, watching as Rook loaded our bags into the trunk, his movements efficient and purposeful. Fenric was on his phone, likely arranging the details of our new accommodations. Milo chatted with his skeletons, instructing them to behave during the journey back.
The scene was so ordinary, so domestic, that for a moment I could almost forget the magnitude of what we faced. Almost.
The markings on my skin pulsed gently, a constant reminder of the power I carried, the choice I would soon have to make. Break or become the system of prophecy. The Library hadn't explained what either option truly meant, but standing here with my Four Keys, I felt something close to ready.
