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As a pup, when he’d watched the battles rage in the skies, he’d once thought the angels beautiful, until he’d grown enough to know that when angels shone, demons died.
And now Severn was… bound to him? Life to life, soul to soul. A bond usually reserved for angels coupling for life. Oh, the irony. Severn wasn’t an angel.
Severn was stuck as angel, and now he’d been mated to his nemesis, because why the hells not?
hair. One day, he’d ask Severn to tell him who had hurt him, and if they weren’t already dead, Mikhail would hunt them down and destroy them, if Severn wished it.
Shivers cascaded down Mikhail’s spine. “Your filthy mouth is a sin,” he growled against Severn’s shoulder, rocking his hips,
He had the sudden urge to wrap Severn in his arms and pull him close. He was Mikhail’s now. And nobody and nothing dared cross a guardian.
The rogue angel’s gaze was still too hungry and bright a thing, like he could never be satisfied.
Mikhail would never be able to hear Your Grace again without remembering the sinful sound of it on Severn’s lips.
The last time he’d seen a real meadow, he’d been sprawled on his back, buried among the wildflowers, Samiel’s hand in his. It turned out Samiel was allergic to pollen, resulting in a sneezing fit and Severn crying with laughter.
“I’d have killed every last demon on the killing field to save you.” He looked down. “It is surely a madness and no doubt the reason why I’m in this cage, but it did not feel wrong…” He met Severn’s gaze through the bars. “It does not feel wrong.”
“Angels do not couple with demons.
Irony
Mikhail didn’t know what love was, but if this savage relief was love, he wanted more of it immediately.
“Before, there was nothing… now, every breath is loud with feeling… and I can’t stand it, but I can’t be without it… without you.”
“I fell the first time I saw you. I’ve been falling ever since. I fear I love you, Severn,” Mikhail’s voice thickened and quivered.
“I’ve only loved you since Tuesday…” Mikhail’s eyes widened hilariously, the big angel’s heart so fragile. “So, I have some catching up to do.”
His angel was a winged emotional disaster, and Severn loved him for it.
Konstantin apparently among them.
Is he Konstantin?
Mikhail stood in the sunlight and threw on a shirt. Severn mourned the loss of that body beneath him.
“I don’t believe I can refrain from touching you for an entire day,” Mikhail admitted. “Well, then.” Severn fastened his fly and headed for the door, casting Mikhail a long look over his shoulder. “That should make today an interesting one.”
“Would you like to fuck me over the council’s meeting table, Your Grace?”
“Hm… would you look at this… an entire table we haven’t yet defiled.”
He looked at himself—at Konstantin, the incubi lord who had sacrificed everything for the chance to kill a guardian angel. The angel who stood beside him, hands entwined.
Something had hurt him. Not recently, because Severn had always carried the great weight of sadness where his wings used to be. He covered it with laughter and smiles and wit and covered it well.
Severn pulled free and tossed his head back. “Will you fuck me, Your Grace?” There was a wrongness in the way he asked, like his sadness was a lingering storm. “No,” Mikhail whispered against his ear. “But I will love you, if you’ll let me.”
An allyanse. Pah!” They barked a laugh. “All it is, is them shedding their own lies and becoming true.”
Mikhail placed a soft kiss on the back of Severn’s neck. “You ruin me…” he whispered.
He had. He’d fallen for Mikhail, for love, because life without love was no life at all and vengeance wasn’t able to sustain him, but love could.
Mikhail had opened himself to the monster, mind, body, and soul, and the beast had feasted. It was a sin, a terrible, primal sin. Mikhail had fallen for a lie.
He was powerful, that one, perhaps the most powerful in this time, and dangerous too. Because he had loved a demon with all his heart, and now that love had shattered, taking his bright heart with it.
