“No, not me. Come inside.”
Wrath raised a brow. “Into the archangel’s abode?”
“Michael will understand. Father, please.” Kira grabbed his hand and tugged him inside, but he couldn’t enter, it was as if an invisible wall stood between them. Dammit! “Hedori!”
The butler appeared in the foyer in a flash. “Please lower the wards, let my father enter.”
“I have already conferred with the archangel. He allows it.”
Of course, he spoke with Michael. For all his easygoing manner, Hedori was damn strict.
With a wave of his hand, the protection wards on the front door lowered in melting, iridescent sparks.
As Wrath stepped into the foyer, Kira said, “There’s something you need to know…”
Wrath went dead still, every part of him freezing. His neon-green eyes trained upstairs toward the left corridor. “Luce—” In a blink, he vanished.
Kira sprinted after him to the first floor and skidded into her mother’s bedroom, panting hard. Wrath knelt at her mother’s bedside, gently stroking back Luceré’s hair while her physical body flickered as if she would disappear.
“Luce?” Wrath’s tone stayed low, a little shaky with emotions. “How? Why?”
“You promised, Kira.” Those inky-dark eyes with the scattered, fading stars peered dully but accusingly at her.
Kira shrugged, struggling to hold back tears. “I can’t let you die. Father’s a Sin for godsakes. And your true mate. Let him help you. He’ll protect you. I-I refuse to lose you, too,”—her voice broke—“I just can’t…”
Strong arms wrapped around her waist, holding her close. Kira grasped Týr’s forearms, drawing on his strength.
“Wrath…” Luceré’s voice wavered as she turned her attention to her mate. “I’m so sorry…”
“Later, you can explain why.” Wrath swept Luceré’s frail body into his arms, his impossible power returning in full force. Heck, their combined power—even though her mother’s was muted—made it hard to get too close to them.
“None will come between us this time, my mate.” A promise. Those glowing lime-green eyes shifted to Kira, and Wrath’s mien gentled. “My gratitude, daughter.” Then he glanced at Týr, his expression stoic. “Guardian, do bring Kira to visit. Through the front door this time.”
Týr snorted behind her.
With a nod at them, Wrath and her mother vanished, their power shutting off with a snap. Suddenly overwhelmed, Kira pivoted, and careful of his wound, she pressed her face into Týr’s chest. “God, I hope I did the right thing.”
“What? Calling Wrath? Let me put it this way, if I was fading from this world—okay, bad example, but you get what I mean—would you prefer those last moments with me or not?”
She scowled. “I would never let you die. I would do anything and everything…” Her words dried out.
“There you go. If anyone can, the Sin will find a way.”
“But the Ancients, they won’t—”
“Then Wrath will deal with them. He’s one deadly bastard.”
Her smile wobbled. “You say the nicest things,” she said, only half sarcastically, but her heart expanded with the immense love she felt for her warrior. This immortal who owned her heart. He’d come with her despite his own severe injuries so she wouldn’t have to face another stressful parting alone.
Her gaze caressed his beloved but still wan face. “Come.” She interlaced their fingers. “Let’s get you back to bed before you collapse.”
“You think me that weak?”
“Honey, right now, in a hand wrestling match? I’ll come out on top,” she teased.
His eyes narrowed.
Oh, he didn’t like that? She bit back a smile. The next minute, he had her against the wall, his palms planted near her head, his chest rising and falling, strain etching grooves around his mouth.
