Unforgiven (Fallen, #5)

“You had your heart broken?” he asked her, hoping to mask his jealousy. He lifted the lyre from her hands, but his fingers were clumsy. He was unable to play anything remotely as beautiful as the music that had flowed from Lilith.

She leaned close to Cam, her eyelids lowering as she gazed at his lips. “Not yet.” She reached for her instrument and strummed a twinkling chord. “No one’s broken my lyre yet either, but a girl can’t be too careful.”

“Will you teach me to play?” he asked.

He wanted more time with Lilith—a strange feeling for him. He wanted to sit close and watch the sunlight sparkle in her hair, to memorize the graceful rhythms of her fingers as she pulled beauty from string and wood. He wanted her to look at him the way Liat looked at Dani. And he wanted to kiss those lips every day, all the time.

“Something tells me you already know how to play,” she said. “Meet me here tomorrow night.” She glanced at the sky. “When the moon sits in the same place, you sit in the same place.”

Then she laughed, tucked her lyre into the tree, and skipped away, leaving a dark-haired, green-eyed angel falling madly in love for the very first time.





Thirteen Days

Lilith wasn’t expecting her world to change after her performance at the open mic. And it didn’t. Not really.

Life still sucked.

“Lilith?” Her mother screamed before Lilith’s alarm clock had even gone off. “Where is my marigold cardigan with the cheetah-print elbow patches?”

Lilith groaned and buried her head beneath her pillow. “The fashion police swung by to pick it up yesterday,” she muttered to herself. “It was a menace to society.”

Three soft raps on her open door made Lilith’s head pop up. That was her brother’s knock.

“Hey, Bruce,” she said to the bed-headed boy chewing on a frozen waffle.

“Mom thinks you stole her fancy knockoff yellow sweater. She’s getting kinda Incredible Hulk–y about it.”

“Does she honestly think I would be caught dead in ‘marigold’?” Lilith asked, and Bruce chuckled. “How you feeling, kid?”

Bruce shrugged. “Okay.”

People often called Lilith’s younger brother fragile because he was so thin and pale. But Bruce was the strongest force in Lilith’s life. He was hopeful against all odds. He was fun just sitting around on the couch. He knew how to make her laugh. She wished he had a better life.

“Just okay?” Lilith asked, sitting up in bed.

Bruce shrugged. “Not great. My oxygen read was low today, so I have to stay home again.” He sighed. “You’re lucky.”

A brutal laugh escaped Lilith’s lips. “I’m lucky?”

“You get to go to school every day and hang out with your friends.”

Bruce was so sincere Lilith couldn’t even think of describing at length all the ways her entire school hated her.

“My only friend is Alastor,” Bruce added, and at the sound of his name, the little dog trotted into Lilith’s room. “And all he does is poop on the rug.”

“Oh no you don’t.” Lilith scooped the mutt up before he ruined the pile of laundry she hadn’t folded yet. Her one clean pair of jeans was in there. On her way into the bathroom, she touched her brother’s shoulder. “Maybe your oxygen read will be better tomorrow. There’s always hope.”

As she got into the shower—the water was back on, but ever since the pipes had been shut off, the water smelled like rust—she thought about what she’d said to Bruce. Since when did Lilith believe there was always hope that tomorrow might be better?

She must have said it because she was trying to cheer him up. Her brother brought out the soft side no one else knew Lilith had. Bruce had such a good heart, and he so rarely got out of this house that only Lilith and her mom ever felt its warmth. He made it virtually impossible for Lilith to feel sorry for herself.

As Lilith got dressed, she closed her door and hummed the song she’d sung last night. It made her think, accidentally, about the longing in Cam’s eyes when he’d handed her that guitar. As if she mattered to him. As if he needed her—or needed something from her.

Lilith scowled. Whatever Cam wanted from her, she wasn’t going to give it up.



“Out of my way, poser.” Some football jock with a square head knocked Lilith sideways into a row of beaten-up metal lockers. No one even blinked.

“Ow.” Lilith rubbed her arm.

The fluorescent light above her flickered and buzzed. She kneeled on the snot-green tile to enter her combination and get her books for the day. A few lockers over, Chloe King was showing off the new angel-wing tattoo on her right shoulder to her latest boyfriend and as many of her friends as could crowd around.

When Chloe spotted Lilith, she smiled a big, suspicious smile. “Great performance last night, Lil!” she sang.

No way was Chloe actually being nice. Lilith knew she should exit the scene before this got nasty. “Um, thanks,” she said, hurrying to unlock her locker.

“Oh my God, you thought I was being serious? That was a joke. Like your performance.” Chloe burst out laughing and was joined by her entire clique.

“And…another awful day,” Lilith muttered, turning back to her locker.