“Another,” he pleads.

  He’s always been so pretty when he begs.

  I pull my hips back and snap them forward as I shift my mouth. We build a rhythm as I leave a second hickey on his long, graceful neck.

  Xeni is pliant in my arms, face slack and head unsteady as I decorate his skin in bites and sucks. The slap of skin is audible even over the thumping music outside, and Xeni’s cries get louder the longer we go.

  He always wants to run.

  Wants to tumble over the edge and fall apart as I take my time, gorging myself in the satisfaction of being the one to make him shatter over and over again. As a lover, I’m patient, milking him until he’s wrung dry. Relishing the feel of his body losing control multiple times before chasing my own release.

  But right now, as my fingernails leave red marks across his chest and my hips snap against his ass in loud slaps, I don’t want to be patient.

  I want to run, too.

  “Tell me you’re mine,” I murmur into his ear, dragging my teeth along the lobe and licking up the point.

  “Yours,” he pants.

  White strands of hair stick to the sweat on his forehead and cheek, and his face is flushed and oh, so pretty as he repeats that single word in a whispered, breathy chant.

  His spine curves as I reach into his panties. My fingers wrap around him, needing to push him over the edge so I can fall with him. His cock tenses as he arches further, and I know he’s gone.

  “Look at me when you come, princess.”

  His gaze lands on mine as his mouth forms a circle, and he cries out as his cock pulses against my hand, cum spilling over my knuckles and soaking the fabric of his panties.

  “Gods, you’re so perfect for me… so good,” I grunt as I drive forward, the squeeze of his hole around me catapulting me into my own blinding bliss.

  We’re pinned together in front of that mirror—chest to back, hips to ass, arms and legs wrapped. As close as two people could be, but still, I press into him. Wanting to be closer, needing to be under his skin, burrowed into his chest. Needing to make a home inside him, where it has always been safe.

  My heart thuds as the rippling waves of pleasure pass, and I pull my hand free and trace a path up Xeni’s stomach and pecs. A shiny, slick trail forms in its wake, and Xeni’s eyes are heavy on mine as I drag a single finger up his chin.

  His jaw is sagged open, and it hinges further as that finger slides over his lips. His mouth closes and his tongue curls, and he sucks on my fingers one at a time as I watch.

  “Why did you leave?” I finally ask.

  “I was coming back,” he responds, his voice breathy. “You asked for time. I was trying to give it to you, but I was…”

  My gaze drops to the marks along his neck, those possessive claims I staked on him. They won’t last long—he heals too quickly for that—but I love seeing them there on his fair skin. I press my lips to one in a gentle kiss as I glance up and find him still staring.

  “I was lonely in that room, Bash.”

  Potent guilt grows in my gut at leaving him alone.

  His head falls back against my shoulder, gaze heavy. “I’ve been so fucking lonely for so long.”

  “Xen,” I whisper.

  He twists to look at me. “I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

  A quiet whine leaves my throat as I claim his lips, tasting the remnants of his pleasure on his tongue. We kiss until I can find my words again, and I pull away and brush the stray strands from his cheeks and forehead.

  “Are you still lonely?”

  “Not when you’re here,” he says. “Everything is better when you’re here.”

  I kiss him again as I finally separate us. Cum and slick soak his skin, and he watches me carefully as I slide his panties into place and pull his pants up. I turn him to face me, buttoning him and smoothing his clothes before doing the same for myself.

  “Do you want to dance, princess?”

  Surprise flickers over his face as he stares at me like he isn’t sure how to answer, and I can’t say I’m surprised. More of a wallflower than a dancer, I’m usually the last person to suggest it.

  But he needs it, and right now, I need him.

  I wrap my arms around his waist and press my fingers against his hole, feeling the dampness spreading over the fabric. I place another kiss to the corner of his mouth before moving down to the marks I left on his neck.

  “We can stay if you want to,” I say. “If they can’t smell me all over you, they’ll see you’re claimed.”

  He shifts his weight with a quiet hum. “Your cum is sliding down my thighs. I can’t promise I won’t get horny again.”

  I grin and breathe a laugh. “Needy thing.”

  “Never denied it,” he teases, but his bravado fades as he reaches for my hand.

  I hate his uncertainty.

  Our fingers weave together, and I tug him closer, pressing a kiss on his perfect lips.

  “Come on,” I say as we walk out the door.

  Music swells into a thumping crescendo, and a loud wolf whistle follows us toward the dance floor. Xeni grins at the ground as I lead him past the hecklers, and my heart melts at the sight.

  I don’t know where this leaves us or where we’ll go from here, but as we find a spot in the middle of the crowd and Xeni moves that smile to me, none of that is important.

  All that matters is him, and he’s right here with me. For once, I push my worries aside and just live in the moment.

  Bash

  I’m half dead on my feet as I shuffle into the conference room, legs heavy and head buzzing. Xeni and I stayed out dancing until the night bled into morning, under the flickering club lights and bass that thumped through our bones.

  We didn’t talk.

  Didn’t try to define what it was.

  We just lost ourselves in the music and each other, the way we always used to before everything went to hell.

  Xeni was beautiful out there. His cheeks flushed a deep rose and his hair was frizzy and wild, with strands sticking to his neck and temples.

  He moved against me with that devastating knowledge he’s always had of my body. Every roll of his hips and brush of his fingers was deliberate, drawing reactions from me without even trying.

  He pressed close until we were chest to chest, his breath hot against my ear and hands sliding down my sides. It was familiar and new all at once. A reminder that he knows exactly how to handle me, and he hasn’t forgotten a single spot that drives me crazy.

  I can still feel the ghost of it. The drag of his palms over my ribs, the way his thigh slipped between mine, and the low, satisfied hum he made when I gasped against his mouth. The club smelled like sweat and spilled liquor and too many bodies, but all I could breathe in was him.

  Amber and salt and perfect sweetness.

  Now, in the harsh fluorescent light of the conference room, my body still hums with the afterimage of him. I drop into a chair, trying to look like I’m paying attention to whatever briefing is about to start, but my mind is still back there, tangled up in him.

  It’s wrapped in his arms outside my room, kissing him goodnight for endless minutes, then chasing him for just one more when he finally walked away.

  And I know, deep down, that no matter what we say or don’t say next, last night changed something.

  Again.

  An exhausted yawn pulls my mouth wide as I tap my fingers against the table and stare out into the rainy afternoon beyond the window.

  Ego comes in and drops into her seat, unceremoniously ripping off the bandage.

  “Gideon’s been captured.”

  “What?” Cato and I ask in unison as my attention snaps to the present.

  She shoots Cato a wary glance. “Leif just left. Their group has confirmed that at least three of the High Commanders are in town. Two of the bigshot human officials are here, too. They’re all staying somewhere in the high-rise compound, just like we thought. Gideon, apparently, went off-book and tried to find out more, but he was caught. He’s being held at the prison in the northeastern quadrant.”

  “What’s Leif doing about it?” Piper demands.

  “You know how it is,” Ego says with an apologetic grimace. “If you get caught, you’re on your own. We’re trying to pool resources right now and determine if there’s anything we can do, but it’s pretty likely…”

  Cato sighs as she trails off. “He’s fucked.”

  “You’re sure he’s at the northeastern prison?” I ask, and Ego nods. “Well, that’s a start. It isn’t nearly as secure as the one in City Center.”

  She shuffles through a stack of papers, then tugs out a few before glancing beside her. “I’ll pull the notes I have on their setup there. Piper, want to help me look for weaknesses in the surrounding area?”

  “Sure,” Piper says with a quick fist bump.

  Ego’s attention returns to me. “We have a few contacts in the quadrant. I’ll see if I can get any intel.”

  “We can’t risk our people for this,” I warn, and Ego cocks a brow at me. “I’m serious. Cato understands his brother went into this voluntarily, and we’re not sending anyone in unless the odds are stacked in our favor. It’s a gamble I’m not willing to take.”

  “What if I told you we were madly in love?” Ego counters.

  Cato’s shock fades enough to snort in disbelief. “Gideon is allergic to love, and you’re a walking chastity belt.”

  “Ouch,” Ego says, clutching her heart. “Fine. We aren’t in love.”

  “Of course you—”

  “I did fuck him once though.”

  Cato’s mouth hangs open.

  Ego tosses him a wink. “Don’t worry, I pretended it was you.”

  I sigh. “Can we focus?”

  “Right, boss, I hear you,” Ego says, then jumps straight back into business as she turns to Sakane. “Do you still have those logs of the patrol rotations we took a few months back?”

  “Yeah, but I don’t think we watched that quadrant very closely.”

  “Anything helps,” she responds, before waving her finger between Cato, Jayce, and Sakane. “You three, work on mapping out a schedule for patrols that shows where they’re stationed at different times throughout the day. The more organized we can be, the better.”

  Everyone gets to work, only taking breaks for quick meals and doses of caffeine. We don’t stop for sleep and grind through the night, and my head pounds as the sun rises.

  Ego and Piper are returning after tracking down contacts, and the walls in the conference room are covered in maps. Potential plans are penciled over streets and in margins, with color-coded pins creating a chaotic pattern.

  Everyone is arguing about the next steps and how much risk is appropriate, and the amount of information being passed back and forth is enough to rock my already muddy brain.

  I need to be more focused. I owe that to Cato.

  “Alright,” I say over the drone of competing voices, rubbing at my temples. “Just… stop talking for a second. Ego, tell me again what you guys figured out about where he’s being held.”

  The room falls quiet, and I glance up to find Ego with her lips pursed.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” she says in a tone that’s syrupy sweet, “I thought you said to be quiet.”

  “For fuck’s sake,” I mutter as I drag my palms over my face. “Please, Ego. Grace us with your superior knowledge and start talking.”

  “Right,” she chirps, ignoring the way I glare. “As far as we can tell, they have no idea what Gideon was actually doing. There doesn’t seem to be any association with his prior crimes… so high-five to the person who managed to destroy that particular file.”

  “Wasn’t that you?” I ask flatly.

  She bats her eyes. “Was it? I’ve done so many amazing things I can’t remember them all.”

  I snort a laugh and shake my head, staring at the maps and tapping my pencil against the table.

  “What exactly are they holding him on?” I ask.

  “Right now, there are no official charges,” she says. “He’ll sit in that cell for a few months while they decide how much they want to punish him. My guess? They’ll charge him with something they can nail him with, like trespassing. Either that or they’ll conveniently forget he’s locked up and leave him in that prison until someone complains.”

  “Yeah, but who’s going to complain?” Cato asks with a frustrated sigh. “They suspect he’s a rebel or they wouldn’t be holding him, and anyone who comes looking for him will automatically be lumped into that same category.”

  “Maybe you could claim him as family?” Sakane suggests, but everyone else shakes their head.

  “The only thing worse than knowing a rebel is being related to one,” I say.

  “The security isn’t bad in that quadrant.” Ego references the map we spent the night marking. “There are several decent escape routes surrounding the prison, but the problem is getting in and out of the facility itself. It’s not maximum security, but we’re still dealing with a ten-foot wall, razor wire, and inch-and-a-half steel bars on the windows.”

  “Not to mention the guards?” Cato adds.

  “Yeah,” Ego agrees with a grimace. “There is that.”

  “There is some good news,” Sakane says as he flips through his own stack of neatly written notes. “Everything we recorded for that quadrant suggests there are very few military installations there, and they’re all low clearance.”

  He stands to point at buildings on the map. “Administrative offices, a distribution center for food and toiletries, and a mechanic shop that services the fleet vehicles. There doesn’t appear to be anything secret hiding there, either, or we’d see more guard presence. The highest security is at the distribution center, but that’s expected. Patrols walk the streets, usually in a duo, and the crime rate is nearly nonexistent.”

  “Are there any times they don’t patrol?” I ask.

  Sakane shakes his head. “As best we can tell, no, and we can’t seem to find a pattern to their cycles.”

  Cato drums his fingers as he thinks. “Are there any contractors that go in and out of the prison? Ones that might have humans working for them?”

  Piper taps a pen against her lip as she reads through a stack of notes. “Laundry is done by the inmates, although a tailor comes in once a month to do repairs. Sheets, jumpsuits, that sort of thing.”

  “Do we know anything about their schedules?”

  “Negative. The only reason we know about them at all was dumb luck seeing someone go in.”

  Cato grunts and taps his fingers faster. “Alright, what about supplies?”

  Piper digs into her notes again. “Supply shipments come in on… Wednesdays.” Glances are exchanged around the room as we realize that’s two days from now, but Piper is quick to squash the idea. “Those deliveries are done by military personnel.”

  “No human contractors?” Cato asks.

  “Doesn’t appear that way, no.”

  “I could go,” a quiet voice says from the door.

  Heads snap up to find Xeni standing with his hand on the doorframe. His hair is damp like he’s freshly showered, though he looks as tired as the rest of us.

  “We’re letting him roam freely now?” Cato demands with a scoff.

  I hold my hand up to silence him. “Excuse me?” I ask Xeni once I get past the shock of seeing him standing there.

  He’s infuriatingly calm as he gestures at the notes spread across the table. “Gideon and I may not be each other’s biggest fans, but he was helping me. He had a chance to turn me in and didn’t do it, and he’ll recognize me. You need to get into the prison, and I have a uniform and an ID. It makes sense.”

  He turns to Ego. “How many guards transport the supplies?”

  “Uhhhh...” Ego drags out the sound as her eyes bounce between me and Xeni.

  “Absolutely not,” I interrupt. “That’s not an option.”

  Xeni doesn’t even look at me as he stares at Ego. “How many?” he asks again.

  Ego closes her slack mouth and references her notes.

  I shake my head with a flare of temper. “Ego, don’t you—”

  “Two,” she says, raising her voice to speak over me. “They gather outside the distribution center and drive in. Different workers every time.”

  “Two is manageable,” Xeni says with a nod. “If I catch one before they make it to the truck and… convince them to go somewhere else, it wouldn’t be hard to take their place.”

  Sakane opens his mouth, but Ego turns to him with a glare. “If you even mention mind worms, I’m going to hide fish bones in your curtain rods so your room smells like death.”

  “Rude,” he mutters, crossing his arms and reclining in his seat.

  Xeni glances at him in mild amusement before focusing on Ego once more, refusing to look in my direction. “He’s not wrong, though. There’s a chance I’d have to use my powers to make it work.”

  “Does it hurt them?” Ego asks.

  Cato snorts and shakes his head.

  “No,” Xeni says, glancing at Cato. “It can give someone a headache if it’s too intense, but there’s no lasting damage.”

  “Unless you tell them to gouge their own eye out,” Cato mutters.

  Xeni stares at the floor as everyone else looks between them. “Yeah, there is that,” he agrees quietly.

  “Why are we still talking about this?” I ask. “This isn’t a valid plan. You don’t exactly blend in, and they’re already looking for you.”

  Xeni finally meets my eyes. “I’ll be fine,” he insists.

  I climb from my chair and slam my palms onto the table. Everyone else in the room jumps, but Xeni just stares at me with that cautious wariness.

  “You aren’t going,” I snarl, my voice rising to a near shout.

  “It makes the most sense,” he says, keeping his face neutral. “No one here can get inside the prison as easily as I can, and you said—”

  “I said we wouldn’t risk our people to save him,” I remind him.

  “And you won’t,” Xeni says quietly as his gaze falls to the ground again. “Your people won’t be at risk. They’ll be safe here.”

  “Stop that,” I grit as everyone in the room shifts uncomfortably.