Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 139178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 696(@200wpm)___ 557(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 696(@200wpm)___ 557(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
But Illium had been a first general. He knew how to lead—and how to deal with predators. It just so happened that he also led with humor and such good nature that his people adored him.
As did Raphael’s Elena.
He’d worried that he’d feel as dangerous toward Illium as he did even toward Elijah right now, but that had turned out to be a needless fear. Because the primal core of him remembered that he’d once held a blue-winged boy’s hand, that he’d cradled a crying toddler against his chest, that he’d put a wooden practice sword in the hand of the child who would grow up into this archangel.
Then later, when it was time, he’d given the same child his first true sword.
Theirs was a relationship unlike that of any others’ in the Cadre, until when they were alone, and Illium still deferred to him.
As Raphael did to Lady Sharine, even though she was no archangel.
Certain things were beyond angelic law or tradition.
“I’ll get some food up here.” He was conscious that Illium had to have burned an incredible amount of energy with the intense speed of his flight. “When do you have to leave?”
“Within the hour. Can’t risk anything more with the dickhead massing his troops.”
Much as Raphael wanted to ask him about that situation, he decided to leave it for a later call. Today, this visit, it was about joy—and about their child meeting his Uncle Illium for the first time.
That uncle held Nix for the entirety of his visit, with their child quite content in his strong arms. “I’m going to give you your first practice sword,” Illium declared, then shared a glance with Raphael, his wide-open heart right there for all the world to see. “If your papa will allow it.”
Had anyone asked Raphael yesterday, he’d have said that of course he would be the one to give his son his first practice sword, but today, his chest expanded with the knowledge that this was right, was how it should be. “Yes,” he said, his voice rough. “It is tradition now, I think.”
Eyes shining, Illium looked down at Phoenix. “Your uncle Aodhan is already fighting with your honorary extra grandmother about which one of them will do your childhood portraits.”
His grin creased his cheeks. “I think they have come to a détente—to take it in turns.” Lowering his voice to a whisper, he added, “I don’t trust either of them, Nixie. Mark my words, they’ll be sneaking sketches whenever you’re around.”
I helped raise this man, Elena, Raphael said into his consort’s mind, his hand clenching atop her chair as his eyes burned. And he is extraordinary.
Elena lifted her head. Yes you did, and yes he is. Her smile filled his world. You’ll be an amazing father to Nixie, Raphael. The proof is sitting right in front of you.
Raphael took a jagged breath of the cold, clean air.
53
I’m so happy you never wear any skin but your own around me.
—Andromeda to her Naasir (Once, on the Hunt for the Silver-Winged Sleeper)
Naasir had already visited Phoenix, but he dropped by again the day after Illium’s lightning stopover. And though their child was awash in gifts hand-delivered as well as sent by messengers and couriers, Elena still waited on tenterhooks to see what their tiger creature would bring.
While it was possible that Andi might temper his tendency toward “interesting” gifts, Elena didn’t think so. Andi loved Naasir exactly as he was—which meant she could be an enabler of the highest order.
When the chimera walked in with Andromeda and Izar, however, he had nothing in hand. “I will bring the gift later,” he promised, the metallic silver of his hair in a neat GQ-style cut that was startling. “It’s not quite ready.”
“What did you do to your hair?” Elena blurted out.
Andromeda threw up her hands. “See! I told you it was too much!”
“It was annoying, getting in my eyes.” Naasir tugged a scowling Andi close to play with her curls, his voice a rumbling purr as he said, “I’ll grow it back for you. I know how much you like to—”
“Hush.” Andromeda’s blush was red against the freckled honey of her skin. “We’re in company.” But she stayed tucked to his side, sliding her arm around him.
Izar, meanwhile, stole Nix and flew up to sit in the rafters with the baby. What conversations the two had, Elena didn’t know, but her son was smiling sleepily by the time Izar decided to come back down.
As for Naasir’s “later,” it proved to be around sunset, as the sky was darkening and the stronghold staff was lighting up the house.
This time, it was just Naasir and Andi, and Naasir carried a cat in his arms. “A pet for the little one,” he said, and put the striped golden creature on the floor of the stronghold’s living room, the fire from the hearth flickering against its fur. “A Bengal kitten.”