“Yeah.” Wrath sat forward and took her hand. “But you know why they do.”

“I know.” She sighed and enjoyed the warm comfort of his grip. “I know it’s what each soul chooses before it enters this incarnation, but the person living through the reality doesn’t know that. All Issy’s mother knows is that her little girl is dying, and all Issy knows is that her mother will be shattered by her loss.”

Wrath nodded and raised her hand to his mouth. “And it really sucks while they’re going through it.”

The warm press of his mouth against her fingers made her breath catch. “I suspect I said something to Issy for the same reason you told Misty about her violent boyfriend, because we’d like to give them what little help we’re allowed.”

“You like them. Humans.” Wrath studied her with a heart clenching tenderness.

Haziel nodded. “I do.”

Wrath’s smile was open and sincere. “Yeah, me too.”

And it didn’t matter to Haziel anymore why he was here, only that he was.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Wrath closed her hotel room door behind them. He was so large and present that he shrunk the size of the room merely by being inside it. “So.”

They’d enjoyed a few more glasses of wine, which had expanded into dinner before he’d followed her up to her room. Their conversation had stayed light and off the topic of what he was currently doing in her room. Or what they were both about to do in this room.

Now all the things they hadn’t spoken of crowded into the room behind him.

Haziel faced him across the mouthy presence of the large bed between them. “So.”

“I know you can’t lie, so to keep things fair, I’m going to give you my honesty.” Wrath stalked closer and stopped on the other side of the bed. “Here’s how I see our situation. I’m a hell prince, and you’re seraph.” He motioned between them. “Your archangel doesn’t want me anywhere near you because he senses what’s happening between us, and he doesn’t like it.”

“I’m not sure why he cares enough to send me away from you.” Haziel hadn’t been able to find a good answer for that question since Ramiel had dispatched her.

Wrath grimaced. “Okay, whatever does or does not happen here tonight, let’s keep Ramiel out of this room as much as we can. He has no place between you and me.”

“I don’t see how we can avoid him being here.” Even if she had the ability to lie and prevaricate, Haziel would rather keep things honest between them.

“Choice,” Wrath said and pointed at her. “Yours.”

“Explain.” The mellow amber glow from the bedside lamp caressed his strong, harsh features. All these centuries she had seen only Ramiel’s perfection as the pinnacle of male beauty but there was something fierce and primal in Wrath that called to a part of her she’d never known existed.

“I want to lie with you Haziel.” Wrath spoke in the ancient tongue of angels and hell princes. “I want to lie with you as a male lies with his female and lose myself in the joys of your flesh.” He stepped around his corner of the bed. “And I believe you desire the same.”

“Yes.” Her body flushed with how much she shared his sentiment. Her muscles softened and prepared to cleave, but her mind still held some semblance of sense. “Tell me of my choices.”

“Whatever happens here this eve, you will have no choice but to tell if asked.” He kept coming, eating up the space between them, making her blood pound faster. “Thus, the decision must be yours without coercion or influence.” His eyes blazed into hers. “Yea or nay, Haziel?”

And there really was only one answer. “Yea.”

Wrath closed the gap between them and stopped before her, close enough for her to feel the want radiating through his large body. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and reverted to English, “Yes.”

She nodded.

“I need to hear you say it. There will be consequences for you, and I need to know that you are both aware and willing to take those consequences.”

“I am aware.” She closed the small distance between their bodies. “And I am willing.”

There could be no other choice for her. Resting her palm against his chest, she gave herself a moment to experience the heat and the solidity of him. Tonight, she would take him onto that bed and into her body, and there would be consequences and truth to be told if she were asked, but she had never felt surer of anything.

Wrath slid his broad, calloused palm beneath her hair and caressed her nape. “Haziel,” he whispered as he pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “I can make you no promises after this night.”

“I know.” She arched beneath his tender touch. “And I can make you none in return.”

“So beautiful.” His blue gaze caressed every inch of her face. “And so fucking desirable.”

“You talk a lot.” She focused on the plush pillow of his mouth.

“You scare me.” He chuckled, deep and low. “I stand before you choking on my desire for you and terrified all at the same time.”

It had always been honesty between them. “And you scare me, but if you don’t kiss me soon, I might have to show you how powerful a seraph can be.”

“Also, so bossy.” He tutted and brushed his mouth against hers. His warm breath hit her moist lips like a touch. “Perhaps you need a lesson in how powerful a hell prince can be.”

He was like liquid gold in her veins and she almost purred. “That’s what I was hoping for.”

And he kissed her. Not a demanding assault as she had been expecting but a gentle, careful exploration of his lips over hers.

On a groan, he slid his tongue into her mouth.

Haziel’s world dipped and slid around her as the rich, masculine taste of him marauded through her senses. He tasted of war and power, of strength and eternity. He tasted perfect, and she allowed her corporeal body to take over.

They kissed for what might have been years or merely seconds, but with a total engrossment in each other that made the kiss a destination within itself. She never wanted it to end, yet she craved what came next with each thud of her heart and each breath she drew.

Her fingers discovered the silk of his hair and wove through the strands, pressed into his skull and invited him deeper, to take more, to take all that she was and all she had to offer.

He gripped her hips and tugged her closer to him. “Let’s make this worth the consequences.” He pressed hard and demanding against her.

It had been so long since she’d been touched with desire, touched by desire, and she shoved his shirt off his shoulders. She wanted skin to skin contact, and she grabbed the back of his T-shirt and tugged.

Their mouths pulled apart long enough to get the T-shirt over his head, and then he was back, kissing her as if he wanted to leave no part of her mouth unexplored.

The press of her breasts against his chest sent heat flaming straight to her core. He was hard where she was soft, and there was something delightfully elemental about that sensation. Her shirt was in the way, so she unbuttoned it and dropped it.

And then there was only her bra between their skin, and she pressed herself closer to him. She spread her hands over the hot, taut expanse of his back. Power tingled from the place his wings would appear, and she paused a moment to enjoy a power that was so similar to hers and so very different.

Wrath groaned as she stroked his wing roots. He slid the straps of her bra off her arms, his blue eyes blazing. “Why would you wear this thing?”

“Human women do.”

“Human women hate them.” He nipped her shoulder. “And I can confirm that males of all species see them as a useless impediment.”