He's watching me too, his ember-bright eyes thoughtful. The morning sun streaming through the window catches copper highlights in his nearly black hair. There's a small scar above his left eyebrow, and I find myself wondering how he got it.
"Your cat likes me," I say, because I need to say something to break this strange tension.
A hint of a smile tugs at his mouth. "Shadow doesn't like anyone. She barely tolerates me, and I feed her."
As if summoned by her name, Shadow reappears on the bed, having apparently decided the temperature is acceptable again. She curls up against my side, purring loudly.
"Traitor," Malcolm mutters, but there's fondness in his voice.
I want to ask more questions—about him, about this place, about what will happen when my wings heal. But exhaustionis pulling at me again, making my thoughts fuzzy. Malcolm notices, because of course he does.
"Sleep," he commands, standing. "I'll wake you when there's food."
This time when he moves to leave, I’m able to let him go, but I watch through heavy eyelids as he pauses in the doorway, his broad shoulders filling the frame. He glances back, and for a moment our eyes meet. Something passes between us, something I'm too tired to analyze.
Then he's gone, and I'm left with Shadow's purring and thoughts I shouldn't be having about his intense eyes and gentle hands. Terror should be what I’m feeling right now. Looking for a way out of here should be the only thought in my mind. Instead, I find myself drifting off to sleep, feeling far too safe for where I am. For who I’m with.
I fade into a world of dreams. A world where there’s compassion and kindness, not betrayal and backstab. What disturbs me the most, is that this new world looks nothing like Heaven.
Chapter 4
MALCOLM
Isense them before I hear them.
It's been a week since I brought Elysia home, a week of watching her heal, of pretending I'm not growing more fascinated by her with each passing day. Her wings are mending slowly—too slowly—but she's regained her strength enough to move around the house, but I’m not sure she’ll ever fly again. Which means she needs to hide.
Now.
"Someone's coming," I say, cutting off her story about Shadow's latest antics. She's curled up in my favorite chair, the cat in her lap, looking so natural in my home that it makes my chest ache. But there's no time for that right now. "Demons. Two of them."
The color drains from her face. "How?—"
"My closet," I say, already moving toward her. "It's the only place their magic won't detect you if they haven’t already. Quickly."
To her credit, she doesn't hesitate. Shadow leaps away as Elysia stands, wincing at the sudden movement of her wings but staying silent. I guide her to my bedroom with my hand placed at the small of her back, to the large walk-in closet that's spelledto hide anything inside it. It's meant for storing forbidden weapons, not protecting fallen angels, but the magic won't know the difference.
"Don't make a sound," I whisper, helping her settle between hanging clothes. "No matter what you hear. Promise me."
She nods, her eyes wide with fear, yet still trusting. That trust tears at my heart. She shouldn't trust me this much, and she definitely shouldn't be looking at me like I'm anything but the monster I am.
The knock at my front door echoes through the house. I close the closet quietly, check that it's secure, then head downstairs. Each step feels like lead, but I keep my movements as casual as my racing heart will allow.
I open the door to find Kris and Veron on my porch, their armor gleaming in the afternoon sun. Peer soldiers, though I've never liked either of them. Kris is too eager with his blade, and Veron enjoys causing pain more than any demon should.
"Malcolm," Kris says, his thin lips twisted in what might be a smile. "Been a while."
I lean against the doorframe, deliberately relaxed. "I wasn't expecting visitors."
"Clearly." Veron's eyes scan past me into the house. "You've missed your last three patrols. Command was...concernedand asked us to check in on you."
"I've been occupied with personal matters." The lie tastes bitter on my tongue, but I keep my expression neutral. "I’ll be back at my post tomorrow."
"Personal matters?" Kris raises an eyebrow. "Out here in the middle of nowhere? What could possibly—" He stops, nose twitching. "Do you smell that?"
My heart stutters, but I don't let it show. "Smell what?"
"Something holy," Veron says, pushing past me into the house. "Faint, but..."
