Archangel's Kiss

REB

her hair with the clawed tips of her hands. Raphael stepped back and met Elena"s gaze. It was time to go. They left on foot, all of them, even Lijuan. A silent show of respect.

No one spoke even when they reached the blinding light of the main courtyard. It was empty, the first time Elena had seen it that way in all her time here. Shadows blotted out the sunlight an instant later, a heavy cloudbank rolling in from the east. Looking up, she felt a chill crawl down her spine.

It wasn"t over.

Elena entered their rooms behind Raphael, with Aodhan bringing up the rear. Jason had made a rare daylight appearance to take Anoushka"s Master of the Guard to healers, leaving Aodhan free to return with them. “Sire,” the angel said after they were behind the closed doors. “I"m injured.”

It was a calm statement.

Elena watched as he peeled off his bloody shirt to reveal a gash so deep he"d been all but been cut in half. “Jesus. How the hell did you fly to us?”

Aodhan didn"t reply, speaking to Raphael as he came to stand in front of him. “I may be a little slow tonight.”

“Stay,” Raphael said, raising his hand, that warm blue fire ringing his palm.

Aodhan"s face showed emotion for the first time. Panic, rage, fear, it was a twisting viciousness in his eyes. But he stood in place, let Raphael touch him, his flinch not noticeable unless you were looking very carefully. Raphael removed his hand a few moments later. The gash no longer looked as raw, as red.

Relief flooded Aodhan"s expression but Elena wasn"t sure it had anything to do with the fact that his wound was well on the way to being healed. She didn"t speak until after he"d left to return to his own room. “He doesn"t like being touched.”

“No,” Raphael confirmed, pulling off his own shirt and wiping his bloody hands on it.

Wondering what—or who —could have damaged an immortal so much that he flinched from even the most casual of touches, Elena began to remove what weapons she had left. “Good thing I brought spares.” Checking her thigh, she saw that while the wound was still pink, it didn"t need a dressing. “Shower?”

“Yes.”

It wasn"t until they"d both showered and were sinking into the wet heat of a desperately needed bath that she said, “You"re the reason Sam is recovering faster than anyone expected.” Her heart overflowed with a fierce kind of pride.

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“I"ve evolved,” he said, his eyes holding an almost lost look. Blue fire ringed the hand he lifted out of the water. “The gift is new, weak—I couldn"t heal Sam fully, though I returned many times.”

“But you sped up the process.” Moving to cup his face in her hands, she touched her forehead to his. “The scales are balanced, Raphael.”

“No,” he said. “They will never be balanced. I must never forget what I became in the Quiet.”

She thought of the swiftness of the justice meted out tonight, thought too of the thin line between power and cruelty, and knew he was right. “Well, one thing"s for sure—if you hadn"t been there tonight, I"d be dead.”

His eyes turned that forever, endless blue that made it seem as if she was falling into another universe. “You must never let Neha touch you,” he said, gripping her nape, pulling her even closer. “I was only able to stop Anoushka"s poison because it was on the surface. Neha"s is a thousand times more venomous.”

She didn"t resist his touch, sensing a fear the archangel would never admit aloud. It did something to her to know that her life mattered that much to him. Part of her, a part that was still that scared young teenager standing on the doorstep to the Big House, was so afraid that he"d tire of her, that her love wouldn"t be enough.

“So many nightmares,” he whispered, stroking his hand up her back as she straddled him.

“She left me,” Elena whispered. “She loved me, but she left me.”

“I"ll never leave you, Elena.” A glimpse of the archangel he was, used to power, to control.

“And I"ll never let you go.”

Other women might"ve rebelled against such a claim, but Elena had never belonged to anyone.

Now she did, and the knowledge began to fix something broken inside of her. “Two-way street, Archangel,” she reminded him.

“I think I enjoy being claimed by a hunter.” Hands on her hips, strong, demanding. “Come, take me inside. Make us one.”

The words were gentle, the hard thrust of his cock anything but. Spreading her hands on his shoulders, she slid down the dark heat of him, shuddering as her flesh stretched to accommodate that unforgiving length. “Raphael.” Whispered against his mouth as her body closed around him.

He gasped, dropping his head for an instant. His lips brushed the pulse in her neck and she felt teeth. A bite. Not gentle. A hiss of air escaped her as he licked over the small hurt, as he moved his mouth up her neck, across her jaw. You didn’t call me when Anoushka attacked.

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