He practically hauled Killian against his chest as he wrapped an arm around the witch’s waist to support him. Before they could take a step, Killian turned, reached up, and cupped the back of Maddox’s neck. Digging his other hand into his pocket, he came away with a small pile of celestial sand.
“Truth, Maddox. Did you come here for me or for the sand?”
Mad stared down at the grains glittering in Killian’s palm, closed the man’s fingers over the dust, and leaned in, pressing his lips to Killian’s jaw. “For you.”
KILLIAN
He didn’t know why he’d asked the angel about his intentions. It shouldn’t have mattered. Killian could have died in the dungeon—or gone insane from Jezebel’s torture—and now he was held against a fighter’s body, Maddox’s warmth strengthening him with each step, and almost back above ground.
The sand weighed him down, tethered him to this world of magic he wanted no part of after Delphine’s betrayal. He thought about just letting it go, but then he’d be leaving it in the one place Maddox didn’t want it to be, and he couldn’t disappoint the man that way. Not after the feel of Maddox’s lips on his skin.
As they rounded a corner and found themselves in the grand ballroom, Maddox froze, then pointed to one of the room’s three exits. “Someone’s coming,” he mouthed and pulled Killian towards another door.
A blast of magic hit Killian square in the back, and his body stopped listening to his commands. He slumped in Maddox’s arms, barely managing to grunt, “I’m…sorry. Take the sand. Leave me.”
“Killian Wade! You will burn for this,” Jezebel shouted as she raced for them. But Maddox just threw Killian’s paralyzed body over his shoulder and took off at a run. They burst through the mansion’s front doors, and Maddox ducked down an alley, around three other buildings, and then cut through a narrow side street, evading the occasional blasts of magic Jezebel hurled their way.
Even with Killian’s extra weight, Maddox was faster, and when they could no longer hear Jezebel’s heels clicking on the sidewalks, Maddox eased Killian to his feet and propped him up against the side of a building.
“Killian, baby, listen to me. I need you to tell me how to break this spell.”
He couldn’t speak. Every muscle in his body was locked tight, even his hand, where, in his fist, the celestial grains were still held securely.
Maddox searched his face, then pulled him closer and kissed him. Not a gentle brush to his cheek, but a kiss that consumed him. When Maddox’s tongue darted out to trace the seam of Killian’s lips, the marks across his chest flared to life, but this time, the searing agony didn’t follow. Instead, they were warm, comforting, and seemed to reach deep into his soul.
The spell loosened, and Killian opened for the angel, each fighting for dominance as Maddox pressed him harder to the wall. The thick, hard rod against Killian’s thigh set off his own arousal, and as his dick responded in kind, the last vestiges of the spell shattered.
“Maddox,” Killian whispered. “You…”
“Can you stand?” the angel demanded.
Nodding, Killian took a step back, suddenly worried he’d done something to offend Maddox. But in the next second, Mad stripped off his shirt and draped it over his shoulder. “You’re not going to like this. Hold on. Arms around my neck, legs at my waist. And Killian? Once we’re airborne, start dropping the sand. Scatter it to the winds. If we can’t keep it safe, then we’ll make sure no one has it.”
“I don’t understand—” Despite the absence of Jezebel’s magic, Killian’s mind was still addled. The sun was starting to set. He’d passed at least six hours in the dungeon, the torturous spell denying him any respite and the iron leaching the magic from his body.
But he fell silent as Maddox’s wings burst forth, pure white, more than seven feet across, and covered with lush feathers.
“We’re going to fly, Killian. It’s the only way we can get out of here safely.”
Maddox grabbed the backs of Killian’s thighs and hefted him so Killian could wind his arms around Maddox’s neck. Hooking one foot over the other behind the angel’s back, he relished their closeness, even as his stomach pitched at the thought of flying.
“Do you trust me, Killian?” Maddox asked, holding his gaze, emotion churning in his dark brown eyes.
Killian kissed him back, hard and fast. “Yes. With my life.”
A breeze ruffled Killian’s hair as Maddox’s wings flapped once, twice, and then…they were off the ground, Killian staring up at the cloudy sky as Maddox carried him off somewhere he hoped they’d both be safe.
C H A P T E R E I GH T
MADDOX
H aving Killian’s arms around him settled Maddox in a way he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt before. Like he was home. They flew over the city, and when Killian let go of the celestial sand, Maddox hoped to all that was good in his life that Azrael would forgive him. Better to ensure it was destroyed than to let it fall into the wrong hands.
“Where do we go?” Maddox asked, his lips close to Killian’s ear.
“I don’t know this city.” Killian’s voice was weaker than it had been only a few minutes ago, and his grip around Maddox’s neck loosened slightly. “Somewhere…I can rest. Hotel. No good to you like this.”
“Hang on, Killian. Don’t let go. Please.” Maddox’s left wing was starting to tire and ache, and he didn’t think he could fly them much farther. Digging deep inside for any shred of power he had left, he tried to cloak them both as he dove towards a side street on the outskirts of the city.
