Zephon turned his back on her.

Now that was just plain rude and fucking annoying. Launching herself at him, Haziel struck him with her full body weight between the shoulder blades.

He hit the ground with a grunt.

Haziel still had her trainee’s dagger in her hand, and she pressed it against his throat. “I asked you a question politely.” She spoke directly into his ear. “And I will get a polite response.”

“Fuck, Haziel.” Zephon squirmed beneath her, trying to free himself. He was welcome to try. She was Ramiel’s second, and her power was part of the reason she’d been granted that position.

“I’m going to ask you again.” She applied a bit more pressure with the knife. “Is Wrath here?”

“Yes,” Zephon snarled. “He is with Lord Ramiel.”

Every part of Haziel softened as she absorbed that news.

Beneath her, Zephon managed to wriggle free and toss her off him.

She barely even noticed him as she sat with her ass on the ground and tried to get her mind to work. There was every possibility that Wrath was here to talk about the issue with the seals, or the mixed demon hordes. Maybe he had new information he needed to share with Ramiel. But then surely he would call a gathering and share it with all the others at the same time.

She didn’t want to think impossible things. Wrath had made her no promises, as she had made him none. And in the end, he would see what she had done as the same abandonment and rejection he had suffered from Rosabella.

But Wrath was here, and she wanted to see him with every functioning part of herself.

“Haziel.” Her trainee crouched in front of her. “Are you all right?”

Was she all right? Haziel stared at his pretty, eager young face and had no idea how to answer that question. She was suddenly laughing with no idea why or how to stop it.

“Get a hold of yourself,” Zephon snapped, dabbing at the small nick she had given him with his forefinger. “Your behavior is setting a poor example to the young.”

She barely heard him. Would Wrath want to speak to her before he left? She was too terrified to even entertain the hope. And what would she even say to him if he did? That she was sorry, but she had given her word to Ramiel that she would leave. That she would do it again if it meant Ramiel would help Wrath heal his daughter.

“Haziel.” Ramiel appeared through the door leading into the palace. “I need to speak with you.”

She clambered to her feet, keenly aware of how hot and sweaty she was. Her hands shook so badly that she handed the dagger over to the trainee. Now was not the time to entrust her with a weapon.

Ramiel’s expression was unfathomable as she approached him. He motioned her to follow him inside. “You’ve heard.”

It was not a question. “Yes.”

“He is here for you.” Ramiel stopped and faced her. The open longing in his green eyes made her heart constrict. He was hurting, and despite everything, she didn’t want that for him. “And you, my sweet Haziel, have a decision to make.”

She shook her head and her throat constricted as she said, “No, I don’t.”

Pain shadowed Ramiel’s eyes. “It shall be as you want.”

“Thank you.” Now she needed to hear the words from Wrath.

“Oh, and Haziel.” Ramiel smiled. “You could say that I did you an unintentional favor by insisting you return here with me.”

This she needed to hear. “And how is that?”

“Now you know, without doubt, how much you mean to him.”

Wrath felt as nervous as a stripling as he waited for Ramiel to fetch Haziel. He should have prepared a speech and not flown up here with no clear intention other than to get his female. He should have asked Vexia to give him some talking points, or better yet, Shade. Shade knew how to speak to someone you desired. He should have worn something other than fighting leathers.

And then she was there, standing in the open doorway. Light glanced off her dark hair, and all the white was a perfect setting for her warm skin. She approached him slowly, the cloth of her wide-legged pants floating around her legs. “Wrath”

“Hi.” In terms of a great beginning to the most important conversation of his life, it was a failure.

Her lips quirked. “Hi, yourself.”

She looked so beautiful it felt like his heart had stopped. How had he forgotten how vivid and alive her big, green eyes were? Forgotten how good she smelled. Forgotten how being close to her made something tight and hot unravel in his chest and make it feel like he could breathe again. “I came to ask you something.”

She stopped a foot in front of him and peered up at him. “So ask.”

Sensation torpedoed him. The challenge in her beautiful eyes, the soft almost smile lurking at the corners of her full mouth, the warm amber of her skin, everything about her that fanned the spark of life to a conflagration within him. And he said the first thing that came to mind, “Come live with me and be my love?”

“Christopher Marlowe?” She chuckled.

He couldn’t prevent his answering grin. “He was a close personal friend. Actually, I gave him those words.”

“Liar.” Eyes twinkling, she shook her head at him.

It seemed like forever since he’d gazed into those eyes. “Maybe.” He closed the small distance between them. “So, will you?”

“I’d like to.” The heat radiating off his big body called to her. “But I need some other words first.”

Dammit! Words were not his strength. “Like what?”

“Like why you want me to come with you.” She jammed her hands on her full hips.

“Because I love you.” Unable to resist touching her, he slid his arms around her waist. “Because I am a miserable bastard without you.”

She held her body stiff. “You seem to have arrived at this decision rather suddenly. When last we were together you were warning me that you couldn’t promise me anything.”

“And then I nearly lost you.” Those terrifying moments when he’d been unable to stop the pull of the horsemen. That horrible death knell of a moment when she’d told him she was leaving. “And then I did lose you.”

“What about Rosabella?” She allowed him to inch her forward.

“I loved Rosabella.” But the sting had not been within him for some time. Wrath couldn’t say when it had stopped, just that living with her rejection had become an uncomfortable habit. “But not in the way I love you.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Explain.”

“Hell’s teeth, female.” How many fucking extra words did she want from him? He’d covered the most important ones.

Haziel stared at him, demanding he answer.