Celestial (Angels of Elysium, #2)

by Olivia Wildenstein

My eyes narrowed. “What’s your last name, Naya?” Her hands slid to her hips. Perched there. “Moreau. What’s yours, Adam?” My heart calmed. Angels didn’t have last names, so this couldn’t be Elysium’s faultless princess. I checked the pavement for a fallen feather in case she’d lied. Only smooshed dog poop and trampled gum. Relieved, angels only knew why, I glided my gaze back up the length of her. When I reached her chest, my head jerked back. My breathing stilled. Fuck. Me. I grimaced as the expression fleeced me of a feather. Her gaze followed its collapse, while mine traced the wings curled around her, wings that looked like someone had sheared off a piece of starry night sky and fit it to her spine. When her eyes settled back on mine, glittery black as her feathers, I murmured, “And so, we finally meet.”