“You’re not evil?”
He winces like I’ve slapped him. “I hate that term. One is never innately good or innately evil. What does ‘evil’ even mean? The term is different for everyone. If you mean am I on Lucy’s side, no, I’m not. He tries to assert dominance because he was the first fallen angel, but as far as I see it, he can fuck himself with a dildo. I like you, Izara, and we have to go. Now.”
He says it all in such a rush that at first my mind only processes the wordsdominance,fuck, anddildo, and the hysteria bubbles up in the form of laughter before my mind captures all of that.
I take a breath and allow him to tug me toward him. I’m enveloped in the scent of burning cinnamon and leather and smoke. His wings wrap around my body, and I feel a tingling sense of magic overwhelm me.
Finally, he steps away with a smirk and I turn to find Saint leaning over Syko’s prone form. My angel is covered in what looks to be dark mud, while Malek leans against a wall with his arms wrapped around his knees. He hadn’t bothered to throw his clothes on in those moments when he’d grabbed Syko’s bleeding body to bring him here. For me. Now he’s wearing rumpled clothing that looks too tight for his muscular frame.
The sight of them is enough to nearly bring me to my knees, a choking sob clawing from my throat as all the emotion I’ve kept suppressed unleashes in an explosion of tears.
Azazel’s hand grazes along my lower back. “You’re home now,” he whispers. “So don’t cry.”
Nine
Saint
He’s fading. Right before my very eyes this strong, resilient man is slipping away.
My shaking fingers slide through his white hair once more as I cradle his head in my lap. “Izara loved you first, you know?” I tell him. Just another mindless fact I keep feeding him to distract him as well as myself. “If you’d had the balls to go for it, she probably wouldn’t have wasted her time with the rest of us.”
A snorting, sad laugh follows that fact, and I glance at Malek, who’s sitting against the wall, his big arms thrown over his bent knees. He’s put jeans and a shirt back on, but they’re crumpled and messy looking. Exhaustion clings to him. I can see it. Even as he bites back his quiet laughter.
The pup can laugh all he likes, but I fully believe it. Syko, he loves fiercely. And anyone would be a fucking idiot not to let him.
Another hard shiver wracks him, and I just feel so fucking helpless. Without thought, I pull my shirt over my head and lay it across his bloody body.
It’s a sweet gesture, sure. But it isn’t enough to save his life.
Nothing is.
My teeth clench hard against the dryness of my throat. A feeling clouds my chest and throat, but I force the shitty emotions down and shove out the first words I can think of.
“I was fucking stunned when you kissed me back,” I blurt out with those pent-up emotions strangling my damn words. “I thought I’d kiss you and you’d kick my ass, but at least I’d know what you taste like. But you didn’t. You kissed me back,” I whisper.
I wasted all that fucking time bullshitting conversations with him. With him and with Phoenix. With Izzy. With every fucking person in my life.
Just wasted moments.
All of it.
“I love you,” I whisper so quietly that the wind steals the words away for itself. So I say it again and again and again.
It’s a promise. A vow. A fucking oath of my feelings that I never once had the nerve to share.
A scuffing of shoes against concrete interrupts my chant of confessions.
My eyes are damp when I look up at the fae with long blonde hair and ashes staining her smooth features. She tilts her head this way and that, then she lowers with a gracefulness that only her kind has.
When she reaches one of her long, slender hands out, my body tenses, and I instinctively pull Syko closer against me.
She halts.
In the gentlest tone, she says, “Trust me.”
Fae can be cruel. I’ve known this woman for a long time and know so little about her, but I know her kind. I also know the kind of people my sister attracts.
Malicious teasing and taunting is usually all they know.
