Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 121854 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121854 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Aodhan should’ve asked him who he’d been sparring with since it couldn’t have been Dmitri, but his mind was elsewhere. “I spoke to someone today who wanted me as Sachieri and Bathar did,” he said, the words stark in the morning light.
Raphael’s amused expression turned stormy, the intense, impossible blue of his eyes going frigid.
But Aodhan shook his head. “Oh, they’ll never have me, won’t even try. That’s the point.”
A raised eyebrow that was very much of an archangel.
“I’m too strong now,” Aodhan explained. “She wants me, but she pretended not to—because I’m not prey any longer. I’m not young and untried and a little naïve. If I was shot through the heart with a crossbow today, even if they destroyed my entire heart, I’d still have enough power to blast them out of existence before I fell.”
Aodhan’s entire body filled with breath. “I think the only person who could take me down now is an archangel—and with Her Evilness dead, I don’t think anyone else in the Cadre is collecting angels. Also, who would pick a war with you, Lady Caliane, and Suyin?” Because he knew all three would bring down the fury of the ages on his attackers’ heads.
Raphael because he loved Aodhan.
Caliane because he was one of Raphael’s Seven.
Suyin because of their personal friendship.
Raphael’s lips kicked up. “Indeed, Aodhan, you have powerful allies and friends. However, Titus will be gravely insulted you didn’t add him to the list—you are his ‘stepson’s’ beloved, and so you fall under his umbrella of protection as much as mine.”
Sound telescoped into nothing but the rasp of Aodhan’s own shallow breathing, the words after “beloved” fading into a buzz of angry bees in his head. “You know?”
22
Raphael’s answer was simple. “I’ve known you two your entire lives.” Eyes of cerulean blue, endless in their depth, held Aodhan’s. “If you have need of it, you have my approval. I’m happy that you’ve made your way back to each other after the turmoil.”
Aodhan exhaled, unaware of how much he’d needed to hear those words of approval until they were spoken. It wasn’t about permission—Aodhan would ask no one for permission when it came to loving Blue. It was about seeing the quiet pride in Raphael’s eyes, in being reassured their sire saw no problem with two of his Seven being so entangled…and that the angel they’d once called Rafa saw their relationship and celebrated it.
“Illium is afraid,” he said, the words no betrayal when it came to this man who was more father to Illium than Aegaeon would ever be. “I left him once, so lost in my own pain that I didn’t see past his bright mask.”
Raphael didn’t break the searing eye contact, the midnight strands of his hair flowing back in a dark wave. “That you understand that is the first step.” A careful touch on Aodhan’s shoulder. “He waited two hundred years for you, Adi.” A gentle reminder that Raphael had known him through all the seasons of his life. “How long are you ready to wait for him?”
The answer took no thought at all. “Forever.”
A smile, Raphael’s wings aglow. “Then trust will come, his fear buried under the weight of decades of having you by his side.” He looked out at the city, its thousands of windows reflecting the sunlight to create a living fire. “I saw him after he helped carry the bier of his mortal friend Lorenzo. His heart was broken—and yet Illium cherishes his friend’s widow even knowing that she, too, will break his heart one day.”
Raphael’s lips kicked up in a smile awash in affection for the boy he’d helped raise to manhood. “Our Bluebell’s will to love is stronger than any fear. Especially when it comes to you.”
Shifting, Aodhan held out his forearm in the grip of warriors.
Raphael took it, his hold firm.
No words spoken, the contact enough. Aodhan had never shut Raphael out when it came to necessary touch, but he’d rarely ever initiated it. Not even when Raphael was the one who’d carried him out of the hellhole of his imprisonment, Aodhan’s broken, emaciated body cradled in his arms.
“Thank you, sire,” he said today, as they stood with their forearms linked. “For carrying me home.” His throat was thick as he said the words he’d never before vocalized. “For taking vengeance when I couldn’t, for making it so I never had to fear those monsters again, and for keeping a place for me in your Seven even when I lost myself.”
Raphael tugged at his forearm in a question.
Aodhan flowed forward into the other man’s embrace.
Holding him tight, warrior warmth and archangel heart, Raphael said, “Never do you have to thank me, Aodhan. You are mine, will always be one of mine even should you fly far from me one day. Vengeance was my right, and my protection yours.” His voice was rough. “I’m only sorry I wasn’t able to protect you from them.”