Chapter 97
Wake steps onto the balcony, his presence as steady as ever, though I don’t turn to face him. I can feel him behind me, just standing there, waiting. The weight of the world has pressed down on me so hard that my chest feels too tight, my heart too heavy. I try to swallow the tears that keep slipping free, but it’s useless.
“Phoebe,” Wake says softly, his deep voice cutting through the sounds of the bustling city below. “You don’t have to carry this alone.”
A shudder runs through me as I grip the balcony railing tighter, my knuckles turning white. I don’t respond. My throat feels clogged with all the things I can’t seem to say. But he’s patient. He always is, even when I’m a mess like this. And that’s what gets to me most—his patience, his presence, his quiet understanding.
He takes a step closer, and before I know it, his arms are around me, pulling me back against his solid chest. I let out a shaky breath, and the tension I didn’t even realize I was holding slowly starts to unravel. The warmth of his body against mine makes the city lights seem a little less distant.
“I’m just so overwhelmed,” I whisper, my voice barely audible, “I feel like I’m drowning in all of this. Enigma, my family, everything… it’s so much sadness, so much pain. I don’t know how we’re supposed to fix it all. I don’t know if I can handle it.”
Wake’s arms tighten around me, and I hear the steady beat of his heart through the silence. He’s not one for long, comforting speeches, but his presence is enough to ground me. “You’re not in this alone, Phoebe,” he murmurs against my hair. “Enigma has caused more suffering than I can even begin to comprehend, but I believe we have more than enough to make them pay for what they’ve done.”
I sniff, blinking away the tears still clouding my vision. “I’m sorry, Wake. I never wanted to drag you into this. You’ve already got enough to deal with, and now you’re caught up in my mess.”
His hand moves to tilt my chin up so I’m forced to meet his eyes. His expression is calm, but there’s something fierce behind it. “Don’t apologize,” he says firmly. “I’m here because I want to be. And whether I can tell you everything or not, trust me when I say that I’m just as invested in making sure those war machines never end up in human hands.”
I study his face, trying to decipher the layers of meaning in his words. “Is it really that bad?” I ask, my voice trembling. “Are we talking end-of-the-world bad?”
He hesitates, his jaw tightening just slightly before he answers. “I fear you were right, Phoebe. There are no coincidences in this. Everything that has happened was meant to, and the more I learn, the more I realize how deep this goes.”
A fresh wave of tears wells up in my eyes, and I lower my head, feeling like I’m spiraling all over again. “I don’t even know where to begin. There’s so much happening, and I don’t know if I’m strong enough to handle it all. What if I can’t stop this? What if we’re too late?”
Before I can get lost in my thoughts, Wake moves, gripping the back of my neck and pulling me into a kiss that is anything but gentle. It’s hard, demanding, pulling me out of the whirlwind in my mind and anchoring me firmly in the present. His lips are warm, rough against mine, and when we finally break apart, he’s breathing just as heavily as I am.
“We don’t have time for tears,” he growls, his voice low and urgent. “Not when every moment we have might be our last.”
I stare at him, my heart pounding in my chest as his words sink in. He’s right. We’re on borrowed time, and the future is anything but certain.
He moves with purpose, his hands sliding around my waist as he lifts me effortlessly onto the balcony ledge. My legs dangle over the edge, but I don’t feel fear—not with him holding me steady. I trust him with every fiber of my being.
“Wake…” I start to say, but he cuts me off with another kiss, more insistent this time.
“We take every second we can to live, Phoebe,” he says against my lips. “No regrets.”
He kneels between my open legs. At the first touch of his tongue, I feel as if I'm falling into oblivion.
Wake is relentless. His hands hold my thighs in place and he drags me closer. I'm perched precariously on the railing, with the only thing keeping me from falling being the man kneeling between my legs.
"Wake….fuck," I can't help the curse, but I manage to muffle it by shoving my arm into my mouth.
I'm not sure what's more dangerous, the height or the man currently feasting on my pussy like he was starved.
It's possible the danger of falling is the least of my problems. I should push him away. I should definitely not lift one leg to hook over his shoulder, granting him even better access.
Instead, I dig my fingers into his hair and arch against his face. He's barely touching me—hands resting lightly on my inner thighs—but there's no mistaking the power in his shoulders as he devours me. He plays at my clit, alternating between licking and sucking until I can't think past the pleasure.
His teeth scrape me, just this side of too much.
I can't.
I can't.
I fall over the edge and can't even summon the presence of mind to muffle my cry.
Wake rises, licking his lips. I stare at his mouth, dazed and more than a little out of sorts. That...
I can't believe we just did that.
I can't believe how much better I feel.
Wake moves me from the railing and sets me carefully onto the floor. The moment he lets go, my legs turn to jelly. I grab for the metal and sag against it, watching as he licks my taste from his lips.
I rise up on tiptoe and press my lips against his. The kiss is softer than I expect, but still leaves me shaking. "Thank you.”
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