I catch her before her perfect ass hits the floor. “Careful there,deliciae.”
She sags against me and tips her head up to meet my gaze. “You don’t breathe in the celestial realm?”
I shrug. “We do when speaking. But other times…it is not common.”
She runs her hands down my arms. “What else is different? What did you learn when you came here besides…how to care?”
Her question gives me pause. As does her body. Willow is every bit as hot half dressed and flustered as she is naked. I could take her again right now. My cock strains against the boxer briefs. Putting my pants on will be…difficult.
I need a distraction.
“The celestial realm is quiet. No leaf blowers. No…motorcycles or car horns. It has no scent—good or bad.” Carefully, I ease my pants over the bulge of my cock. “Very little color at all beyond that of each angel’s skin.”
“Oh, God. Why would anyone want to live—exist—like that?” she asks.
I shrug. “Because until you leave, you know nothing else. I thought I was happy there. Or…at least content. I was not.” My shoulders heave. The urge to confess my feelings for her is almost overwhelming. I want to tell her that going back will be the hardest thing I have ever done, but that would be a lie.
LeavingWillow…that will be the hardest thing I will ever do.
My phone buzzes from somewhere in the corner of the room. Willow finds it under my Henley and checks the screen. Her cheeks tinge bright red. “Um. It’s Killian. I think he heard us.”
I snatch the phone from her hand.
Killian: Are you and Willow ever leaving your room again?
We should have arranged for room service. Then I could ignore the bastard. But as I plan on making Willow come at least another three times before morning, I suppose we must eat.
Gabriel: We are going to the dining car in a few minutes.
Killian: We’ll join you. Sinclair has news.
With a sigh, I pull my long hair back and secure it with a band. “I would rather have you all to myself for dinner, but we are—apparently—going on a double date.”
Willow
The fine hairs on the back of my neck prickle as my angel protector leads me down the train car’s narrow hallway. I cast a glance over my shoulder, convinced there’ssomeonethere, but we’re alone.
Gabriel stops at the door to the next car, turns, and rests his hands on my shoulders. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know.”
He searches my face. “That is not an answer.”
My lips twist into a frown. “Yes, it is. It’s just not a good one. Don’t worry. Mad and Killian are waiting for us, and I’m hungry.”
For a moment, I think he might argue with me. But all he does is sigh and press a kiss to my forehead. “You will survive this, Willow. I promise.”
My thoughts race a thousand miles an hour. I know he thinks he can save me, but he didn’t read the last words of generations of whisper keepers. Their pain didn’t seep into his fingers through the spelled ink.
When I close my eyes at night, I can almosthearthem. Their screams. Their sobs. Their overwhelming sadness and despair.
I’d give anything to have a real conversation with even one of them. Anger twists in my chest. The first coven should have done more to protect those who came after.
My ancestors abandoned me.
TWENTY-THREE
Willow
