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)
“Smoke!” Going down on one knee, he gathered her into his arms and against his chest. Where, despite her annoyance at the rain and at him, she began to purr, a happy little engine.
“I left her safe and warm in your quarters, but she clearly found a way out,” Aodhan said with a shake of his head. “She watched for you every day.”
Illium rose back up, Smoke cradled against him.
It felt natural to step beside Aodhan, overlap his wing with the other man’s, and just be under the rain of their city while the sire and his consort stood with them. The rain, the wet, the cold, none of it mattered. He was home.
* * *
* * *
Aodhan and Illium both had suites in the level of the Tower dedicated to the Seven’s private quarters, and today, when they exited the elevator, Aodhan sensed the emptiness in the air. None of the others were in their own suites.
When he glanced at Illium, it was to see that the other man remained shaken from the emotional shock of their decision to surrender to the love between them that was far beyond friendship. His fingers were in Smoke’s fur, his expression pensive as his wet hair dripped water into those stunning eyes.
It would’ve been easy to push him, tell him they’d already made this decision in the storm over the ocean, but if the past had been about Aodhan, the present was about Illium—an angel with a heart so huge that he kept on forgiving those who hurt him, and who would give Aodhan anything he wanted if he asked.
Because Illium’s love for Aodhan was as huge as that damn heart of his.
But Aodhan had hurt Illium by freezing him out for centuries. However long his Blue needed to trust him again the way he’d once done, Aodhan was willing to wait.
He cupped Illium’s cheek. “Get dry, then have a rest before the gathering.” He ran his thumb over Illium’s cheekbone. “We have all the time in the world, Blue.”
Illium swallowed hard and looked up to meet Aodhan’s gaze with a familiar directness. Below the playful games and delightful charm, Illium was built of honor. “I don’t know why…” He exhaled. “I’ve been counting down the days until I could come home to you, and now that I’m here, I’m so afraid, Adi.”
Blue and Adi.
Names from a lifetime ago that somehow fit their new relationship.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Aodhan said, his entire being heavy with the terrible realization he’d had in Amanat.
All but one of the people Illium loved—or had loved—had abandoned him in one way or another.
His father.
His mother.
Aodhan.
Raphael alone had never faltered.
Even Kaia, the mortal he’d loved as a youth, had left him. Her loss of memory hadn’t been by choice, but it had been a terrible loss nonetheless.
Illium might never understand the wound in his heart, but Aodhan did, and he planned to do whatever it took to help it heal—even if that meant waiting another eon for Illium to believe in Aodhan’s promise to never again leave him.
Turning his face into Aodhan’s hand, Illium released another breath before giving a small nod and walking into his apartment with a purring Smoke in his arms. The cat had shadowed Aodhan since she’d arrived in New York on the cargo plane that had also ferried home Illium’s few belongings—but Aodhan had known he’d be invisible to her the instant her beloved Illium returned home.
In this, he and Smoke were well aligned: Illium was Aodhan’s lodestar, too.
His heart ached to see the other man’s wings lowered as he walked through the door, his head downbent. Poor Blue. He didn’t understand what was going on in that bruised heart of his, didn’t know why he was acting with what—to him—would seem like a lack of logic.
Frowning, Aodhan walked into his own suite and, after quickly drying off and changing into a more formal tunic and pants, made a call he’d never thought he’d make.
The member of Lady Caliane’s court who answered smiled at seeing his face on her screen. “Aodhan. Is all well in New York?”
“Yes,” Aodhan said. “I would request a moment of Lady Caliane’s time, if she is available.”
A curious look, but the maiden said, “I saw her just before. I will go and ask.”
The screen went into a holding pattern, and when it cleared a minute later, it was Raphael’s blue eyes that looked out at him from a face both feminine and of a warrior even though Lady Caliane’s black hair was unbound today and anchored with a circlet of silver, the clasps on her shoulders delicate silver leaves where they held up the white of her dress.
And though angels didn’t appear to age beyond a certain point in time, there was a weight to her presence, a vastness of memories—of grief and love and pain—in her gaze, that made it clear that she was eons older than Aodhan or Raphael or anyone else in the Tower.