“No.” Raphael"s jaw was a brutal line. “I won"t let Lijuan pull you into a waking nightmare.”
“Then you"re letting her win.”
A hard, unexpected kiss. “No, we"re letting her believe she has won.”
Raphael disposed of Lijuan"s gift and flew back to the Refuge cloaked in the black shadows of night. What he"d said to Elena had been the truth—but it had hidden other, deeper truths.
He"d done it to protect her.
And she"d known. But she"d let him convince her. Which told him more about the depth of her scars than anything else. Once, when Uram had been sane, when he"d still remembered a little of the youth he"d been, he and Raphael had had a conversation.
“Humans,” the other archangel had said, “they live such flickering lives.”
Raphael, not yet three hundred years old, had nodded. “I have human friends. They speak of love and hate, but I wonder, how much do they truly know of such emotions?”
146
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To this day, he could recall the look Uram had given him—that of an older male amused with the pretensions of youth. “It"s not quantity that matters, Raphael. We flitter away our lives because they"re endless. Humans must live a thousand lifetimes in one. Every hurt is keener, every joy more incandescent.”
Raphael had been surprised—even then, Uram had been dissolute, careless in his pleasures, open in his cruelty. “You sound as if you envy them.”
“Sometimes, I do.” Those vivid green eyes had stared down at the human village that sheltered below the ancient castle they"d called home at the time. “I wonder what I would"ve been had I known I only had five or six paltry decades to make my mark on the world.”
In the end, Uram had made a huge mark on the world, but it hadn"t been what that younger self would"ve wished for. Now, he"d be forever remembered among most as the archangel who"d lost his life in a battle for territory, for power. Only a rare few, even among the angels, knew the truth—that Uram had turned bloodborn, bloated by a toxin that had turned his blood to poison.
Raphael"s father had never fallen into that kind of bloodlust. But Nadiel"s lust for power had been, in many ways, worse.
Seeing Elena standing on the balcony of their home still clothed in his shirt, her magnificent wings spread as if in hunger for flight, he dived hard and fast.
Raphael! It was a cry filled with equal amounts of wonder and fear.
Feeling something long asleep awaken within him, an echo of the cocky boy who"d amused Uram, he rose up in a hard vertical climb, before twisting into a spiraling plummet that could send the inexperienced smashing onto the rocks below.
It was at the midpoint that he felt it—Elena"s mind locking with his, her mental gasp as she experienced the dangerous ecstasy of the fall. Then he was sweeping out and upward. She stayed with him until he coasted down on a luxurious air current to land on the balcony.
She stared at him for a moment, her own wings closing. “What”—a shake of her head—“just happened?”
“You linked to me.” It should have been impossible—he was an archangel, his shields impenetrable. But, he remembered, she"d done it once before—as a mortal. He"d lost himself in her that day, sunk so deep into the wild perfume of her hunger that he"d ceased to think. Later, he"d suffered her rage at what she"d believed had been an attempt at coercion on his part. His hunter hadn"t understood what she"d done.
“There are some humans—one among half a billion perhaps—who make us something other than what we are. The barriers fall, the fires ignite, and the minds merge.”
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Lijuan had killed the mortal who"d touched her that deeply.
Raphael had chosen to love, instead.
“I could feel what you felt.” Exhilaration still sparked in Elena"s eyes. “Is that what it"s like when you"re inside my mind?”
“Yes.”
A pause, her expression intent. “You don"t like it, do you? That I can slip beneath your shields.”
“I"ve had over a thousand years to get used to being alone inside my head.” He ran the back of his hand down her cheek. “It is . . . disconcerting to have another presence there.”
“Now you know how I feel.” A raised eyebrow. “It"s not nice to know that nothing inside me is private.”
“I"ve never taken your deepest thoughts.”
“How do I know that?” she asked. “When you"re so cavalier about your ability to enter whenever you want? How can I ever be certain that what I choose to share with you is truly a choice?”
For the first time, he felt a glimmer of understanding. “It"ll be a much slower way of learning each other.”
“Speed isn"t everything.” Her hands clenched on the railing.