“Maybe later?” I can see Angel wants to push, but thankfully, he drops it when I ask for something to drink instead. “Hey, what kind of name is Anxo anyway? What does it mean?”
“Angel in Galician.”
No fucking way. Is he messing with me?
“You’re aHorseman of the Apocalypse, and your parents choseAngel?”
I’m baffled… but then I remember my name is literally ‘Heaven’spelled backward. Maybe his parents have beef with Heaven, too, just like my papa.
“Actually, my nanny named me. My parents were too busy for things like that. She was a human who moved to the Kingdom of Conquer after mating with a demon. The old lady started calling me Anxo—Angel in her mother tongue—and the name just stuck.”
The way he talks about his parents feels rehearsed, like the topic is so draining that he’d rather read it like a script and get it over with.
I’m suddenly disappointed with people I’ve never met before. When did I turn into such an empath?
While Angel takes his sweet time browsing the fridge, I hop off the counter to look around.
A shiny packet inside the high cabinet practically calls out to me, so I grab the handle with my left hand and pull. Before Ican figure out what I did wrong, the door is coming straight for my head. I squeeze my eyes shut and brace for impact, only for something warm to take the hit for me.
I crack one eye open and see a hand covering my head, protecting me from a blow that was meant for me.
Angel clears his throat and narrows his eyes at me with a ‘Are you serious?’ look.
I shrug with a sheepish smile and give him two thumbs up to show him I’m in one piece…thanks to him.
Angel sighs and shakes his head, but I catch a smile begging to break free. I’m annoyed he’s trying to hide his dimples from me, but I forget what I was mad about the second he hands me a bottle of juice and unexpectedly leans in to kiss my forehead.Another kiss?!
I genuinely don’t understand why I’m not freaking out over how many physical boundaries I’m allowing Angel to stomp over.
Pretty sure the witches broke something in you, Nevaeh.
Angel grabs my hand again, like it’s second nature, and leads me through the maze of identical hallways while I sip my surprisingly delicious juice.
I get lost in my drink and forget that I’m supposed to be following him and not the other way around, but I’m reminded of my mistake when Angel abruptly yanks me back into his chest by pulling on my hoodie.
I’m ready to punch his arm for manhandling me, but when I look up, I come face-to-face with a glass wall. An immaculately clean glass wall that my blind-as-a-bat ass was about to walk into.
Angel takes the empty bottle from my hand without a word and tosses it in a nearby bin. I’m about to thank him for saving my head—again—until I notice his shoulders shaking. He’s not… crying, is he?
When Angel finally turns to me and sees the confusion on my face, the last of his composure crumbles, and he bursts out laughing.
So hewaslaughing at me. Asshole.
I let out a childish huff and turn away, fully intending to walk off, but the volume of his laugh doubles, forcing me to stop. If I wasn’t so embarrassed, I’d be worried about how his face was turning bright red or the fact that he could barely breathe now.
Don’t get me wrong, if it were anyone else, I would’ve cracked their jaw, but I can’t even conjure a single harmful thought about Angel.
“Wrong… wrong way.” Angel wheezes, laughing so hard he’s doubled over, clutching his stomach.
If he doesn’t stop soon, I swear I’m going to… cry. Fuck.
‘Do it. Show him weakness. See how fast he turns his back on you.’
I kick the carpet and look out of the glass at the bustling city. Whatever Angel sees on my face sobers him up. He walks over and wraps me in a bear hug from behind, arms coming around my shoulders until I’m pressed against his chest.
My body sinks into his warmth. I wait for the wild thumping of my heart to trigger my fight response, for my Divine to wake and demand chaos, or my instincts to scream at me to poke Angel’s eyes out, but nothing happens.
My heart keeps beating steadily, like this is normal. My mind is blank. No anxious thoughts, no elaborate plans to escape his arms, just an unfamiliar peace spreading inside my chest.
