Page 124 of What We Burn

He leans forward, his weight pressing down, pinning my body under his. His voice, when it comes, is pure darkness.

“Now, Sage. Come for me.”

His permission is a fucking detonator.

I explode, every muscle wrenching tight, legs kicking uselessly. I scream, clawing at the sheets, spit on my lips, my whole body seized up and then breaking loose in the most violent orgasm I’ve ever had in my life. It’s so intense I think I black out for a second—my vision goes white at the edges, my head swimming, the world boiled down to the ragged sound of my breathing and the wet slam of Eli’s hips and the searing, electric pleasure ricocheting through my body.

He lets out a roar as he comes with a curse, hips stuttering, nails digging into my flesh. The aftershocks hit so hard, I sob into the pillow, unable to tell if I’m crying or just unable to form words.

We collapse. Him on top of me. My body aches, but I’m more alive than I’ve ever been. Eli’s chest is hot and slick, his hair damp where it brushes against my skin. We stay there, both of us stunned and panting. He pulls out and rolls to the side of me.

“You want an admission?” he asks, voice still shredded at the edges.

“Yes.” I nod, mouth dry.

He slides his hand over my skin, thumb pressing against the side of my neck, right over my pulse. “I haven’t slept properly in weeks because every time I close my eyes I see that fucking rope on you.” His gaze drops to the scar and then lifts again. “I hear your voice in rooms you’re not in. I taste your blood in my mouth from when I breathed life back into you, and I can’t get through a goddamn day without wondering if the next call is going to be about your body.”

“Then stop making me feel like a body you’re waiting to identify,” I whisper, a tear escaping my eye that he quickly swipes away. “Do you know why I snuck out?”

“Yes, little savage. I know exactly why you did it—you’re tired.”

“Yes.” A sob bursts out of me, tears flowing freely now. “Because all five of you are closing in so hard I can’t fucking breathe.” My voice shakes on that last word and I hate it. Hate that he’ll hear the panic inside it. “You park outside my job. You watch the cameras. You watch me. You decide where I go, when I go, who I see, whether I get to have one stupid afternoon that belongs to me⁠—”

His mouth presses into a thin line. “Because someone tried to kill you.”

“And because of that, none of you can stop.” I sniff and lick my lips, too raw and exposed to care how any of this lands anymore. “I know why you do it. I know you love me. That’s what makes it so hard. I can’t even scream about it without feeling guilty, because you’re all so fucking scared all the time and I’m supposed to be grateful.”

“You are alive because we’re scared.”

“And I’m disappearing because of it.”

My bones are water and my throat is a wound, and I’m so tired I could fall asleep bound to the bed.

Eli unties the knots, kissing my wrists before he does, and when I collapse, he covers me with the comforter, climbing in behind to spoon me. His skin is warm, sticky, marked the same as mine. And for a while, he just holds me, tracing the line of my collarbone, the choker, the scar below.

“I’m sorry.”

I nod, my eyes still leaking, emotions caught in my throat.

He’s quiet for a long time. His hand moves through my hair, slow and rhythmic, untangling the knots he made. I let the silence sit, both of us needing it. With Eli, silence is rarely empty—it’s full of all the things he’s working up the courage to say.

“We put a tracker on you.”

THIRTY-FOUR

SAGE

Istiffen. “You bugged me?”

“Yes.”

I let out a sigh. Of course they fucking did.

I rack my brains to work out where it would be. “It’s in the choker, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he whispers. “Don’t ever take it off, okay?”

I trace the cameo with my fingertip.