“I’m not leaving you.” Wrath muttered close to her ear, and she felt the soft press of his lips to her forehead before she drifted back to the place where it didn’t hurt so much.
Warm breath huffed down her neck when she woke the second time. Her head felt clearer, and she could wiggle the fingers of her right hand without pain exploding through her. Her other wings must have retracted because her spine was pressed to Wrath’s chest. The slow rise and fall of his deep breathing synchronized with her own and wrapped her in another layer of security.
Voice sleep raspy, he said, “How’s the wing?”
“Feeling a bit better.” She resisted the urge to give it a quick trial.
“Hmm.” His arm tightened around her waist. “Care to explain why you didn’t tell me about your injured wing.”
And she gave him the honest answer. “No.”
His thighs bracketed her legs and he shifted slightly, careful not to jar her wing. “Let’s try a different question.”
“Must you?”
“Yup.” It was darker in the cave now, and she could barely make out the sharp play of muscle along his forearms. “Why didn’t you tell me about your injured wing?”
“I didn’t want to slow you down.” Truth.
“And?”
Damn, shit, and bugger. “I didn’t want you to feel bad about my wing getting hurt.”
“Silly angel,” he murmured. “Go back to sleep. Ramiel and I share opposite sides of the same power, so my healing should help. Did it?”
Her wing did seem to be feeling a lot better than it would without healing. “Yes.”
“Give me the full answer.”
Damn him for always going that extra mile. “But not as well as if Ramiel had healed it.”
“Well.” He chuckled. “That’s a blow to the ego, but I’ll take that it worked a bit.” He pressed her head back against him. “Now go back to sleep and we’ll talk about this not telling me business in the morning.”
“I’d rather not.”
“Tough shit. Now, sleep.”
“You’re very bossy.” Wrath’s heat wrapped around her, and drowsiness crept through her limbs. “And far too comfortable with using my unfortunate ability to always tell the truth.”
“Uh-huh.” He stroked her spine with one plate-size hand. “Sleep, angel.”
Haziel pressed her forehead into the crook of his neck and did as she was told.
Wrath closed his eyes and drank in the rose and lotus scent of the angel cradled against his chest. Her silky skin pressed against his throat. Her breath huffed softly against his chest. Ramiel’s source power brushed against his, familiar and yet different from the signature of the archangel. Softer and lighter, lustrous and alluring, calling to him on a primal level.
When he’d first seen her falter in the air, his heart had lodged in his throat, and he’d almost shredded his wings getting to her in time to stop her plummeting to the ground.
She stirred things within him that he would rather were left dormant. Not since Rosabella had he felt the odd mélange of protective and possessive around a being.
The feathers of her injured wing tickled his arm. He’d wanted to puke when he’d seen the damage to the humerus. A simple break had become a complete longitudinal fracture with her insisting on flying with it. He’d been moments away from summoning Ramiel to help her, but his stubbornness had stopped him. He didn’t want Ramiel close to her. Hated the idea of seeing the adoration in her beautiful eyes when she gazed at her archangel. He had poured every ounce of his own healing strength into the break, and it had sped up knitting her humerus. The effort had exhausted him, but thank fuck it had done something, because if it hadn’t, he would have been left with no other option but to summon the feathery fartberry.
She murmured in her sleep and shifted against him. Her hip brushed his crotch.
His cock, the pig sniffer, took notice and stirred.
The lust seal was worsening, and here in Shade’s demesne, the effects were shooting through his system. He wanted to move his hand up and cup the generous jut of Haziel’s breast, strum the nipple until it stood hard and proud, and ready for his mouth.
Haziel made a soft moan and burrowed closer to him.
Not helping. The lust seal could be fastening its sticky tentacles around her as well.
His cock loved that idea so much, it offered up a salute.
He was getting confused. The seals were breaking and playing havoc with his emotions. He felt no tenderness for her. He didn’t want to slide inside her and stay there until they were both satisfied. He didn’t even like angels.
Yeah, the lust seal was the problem here. It had to be.
Chapter Eighteen
“Haziel,” Wrath rasped close to her ear. “Time to wake.”
“No.” She moaned her reluctance. Waking meant abandoning a delicious dream about Wrath pinning her to the wall of the cave, pressing his hard body against her, and pillaging her mouth with his tongue. Her nipples were hard and tight, and she throbbed between her thighs. She hadn’t been celibate while she waited for Ramiel to notice her, but it had been a while since she’d had those needs met.
“Angel.” He accompanied his words with a gentle shake. “You should be well enough to walk now, and we need to go.”
