“It doesn’t matter. It’s not your fault.” She walked around him, her shoulders tight with tension, but he grasped her arm. His touch sent an unwanted spark through her even as his eyes searched hers, intense and unblinking. “Why does it not matter?”
Bitter laughter escaped her. “Because you’re an angel. As you pointed out several times, you don’t have emotions like us humans.”
“I feel you, Nia?—”
“It’s not the same thing.” She jerked free. “That’s just carnal urges, a bodily need as you’ve seen. Once satiated, it’s a mere memory, then forgotten.”
His brow lowered.
Nia ignored his narrowing eyes. “What I’m talking about comes from here.” She poked her chest repeatedly with a finger. “It bleeds from the deepest depths of your soul and consumes you whole. And right now? I feel extremely alone.”
“You have me.”
Tears burned her eyes, those same damn emotions swelling her throat. “For how long, Lore? In the end, you will leave. I need more. I need to find my family.”
“Nia, I…”
At his hesitation, the hope she didn’t know she hung on to crumbled. “Yeah, I get it. You can’t promise me anything.”
She sidestepped him and made for the door, trudging out into the freezing air to the front courtyard. Though she wore only a sweater, the chill didn’t deter her.
God, she was so tired of this—of longing for something, for affection that was always out of her reach.
The swaying, strung-up sandbag snatched her attention. Nia marched across and punched it over and over until her knuckles hurt, and the anger and pain became a frozen ball in her chest. She grabbed the swinging bag and pressed her perspiring brow to the chilled leather?—
Lore’s powerful arms came around her, pulling her into his hard, warm body, his scent of wide open spaces and citrus consuming her with longing. But she couldn’t have him either, not for the long-term like she wanted. Needed.
She moved away, swiping her hot face with her sleeve. “You shouldn’t do that. Shouldn’t hold me. We’re outside.”
“I don’t care.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“Really?” His expression hardened. “I am eons old. I know what I mean to say.”
“Not for this!”
He stepped closer, a formidable wall of strength, power, and heat—God, he was throwing off so much heat—and the slumbering desire within her spiked again. “I’ve already broken several sacrosanct vows. I knew what I was doing when I?—”
He grabbed her hand, and in a blink, she was back inside the kitchen. “Stay here.”
“What?”
Fury bled into every line of his hard, handsome face.
It terrified her. “Lore?—”
“I’ll be back.”
His form blurred and vanished, leaving behind only his scent and lingering warmth where he’d stood.
Her heart shot to her throat and her gaze darted to the kitchen windows, but none of them faced the front courtyard. She sprinted for the stairs to the next level and for the door at the end of the corridor. It opened to some kind of workshop with wooden statues lining the walls. The sound of swords clanging had blood whooshing in her ears.
No, no!She darted around the massive worktable to the window. She grabbed the dusty granite sill, brow pressed to the pane. Panting, she stared out through the dirty glass. Two angels fought Lore with such deadly impact that her blood iced.
“God, please, please, don’t let anything happen to him.”
The pair flew at Lore, one with wings of chocolate and the other of chestnut flapping so hard, she could actually hear them through the abbey’s thick wall. They flashed, corralling him again. The fight grew faster; she could barely follow. One ducked to Lore’s back, sword thrusting forward?—
