A little over a week later, I picked up Bryony from school and we headed to meet my new cousin. After the battle had ended, I’d kept my promise to Bry and spent a few days at the beach in Georgia with him, Momma R, and the crazy ex-witch Moll. The chick creeped even me out. The rest and relaxation had been just what I needed and the worst of my burns had already faded. One of the perks of my supernatural bloodline.

But the little vacation couldn’t last forever. I had a bar to run, and Bry had to be back in school. Fortunately, his teacher told me he’d been on his best behavior. No more signs of him—or any of the other children—writing in strange languages. Well, except for the complaint that some of the students picked up a little Japanese from a kids’ cartoon show. Now they kept calling her Lotus-san.

We drove to the lake house where Uncle Luc had arranged lodging for Nancy and—begrudgingly—Ania as well. We arrived just as Sorsha was leaving, her bag of midwife supplies slung over her shoulder.

Sorsha paused to greet us and ruffled Bry’s hair. “How are you feeling, little one?” The true healer’s gaze missed nothing as she looked Bryony over. “I’m going to have to start awarding you Frequent Patient Miles if you keep coming down with mystical ailments.”

“Huh?” Bry tipped his head back and frowned at her.

“Don’t worry about it.” She focused on me. “They’re settling in fine. Both babies are healthy and they already have an air of the supernatural around them.”

“Any miracles or plagues yet?” I smirked.

“Only the miracle of birth.” The healer’s smile was wide and heartfelt. “Which takes on a whole new meaning when speaking of destined children from fated mothers. But for now, they’re just babies.” She moved to leave but paused mid-step. “Though, do make sure you let me know if any strange portents show up around them.”

“I’ll do that.”

Sorsha headed off, and Bry and I went inside to see the newborns. I hadn’t been around for the births—my own feelings of what could never be keeping me away—but I was ready to see them.

We found Nancy lounging in a bed near the tall windows that looked out over the lake. Her child, the one all the fuss, fighting, and near-apocalypse had been all about was cradled in her arms. The baby slept the innocent sleep of babes and she looked up at me with a tired smile. “Hi,” she whispered. “I’m so glad you came.”

“Hey there.” I kept my voice just as low. I picked Bry up and sat him on the edge of the bed so he could get a closer look at his second cousin. “Looks like everything worked out, huh?”

“Yes.” Nancy smiled down at her newborn. “Isn’t he beautiful?”

“A boy.” A perfect little vision of impending evil. “Good luck potty training him.” I tousled Bry’s hair. “This one hasn’t quite mastered his aim.”

“What’s his name?” Bryony leaned even closer, little eyes intent on the baby.

“Lucius.” Uncle Luc walked into the room. He had a big, proud-parent grin on his face though, as usual, it didn’t quite touch his eyes. “Lucius Morningstar, proud heir of a grand empire.”

I reached out and traced Lucius’ tiny hand, giving his finger a delicate stroke. “Nice to meet you, Lucius. Don’t burn the place down, huh? I did that once or twice after I was born.”

“More than a dozen times, as I recall,” Uncle Luc drawled. “And that doesn’t include the fires you set on purpose.”

I grinned and shrugged. “I was a rambunctious kid.”

Nancy looked at Uncle Luc with anxious, worried eyes. “He’s really not going to burn the house down, is he?”

Uncle Luc simply smirked.

I patted Nancy’s hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll put you in touch with Blooming Aster. She’s my housekeeper and corrals my brownie cleaning crew. She can weave a few spells into the home and maybe get you a hive of your own.”

I knew the brownies would be tripping over themselves to work for the Dark Lord’s son.

Nancy looked at me, eyes growing even wider. I wasn’t sure if she thought I was joking or just crazy.

“Hey everyone.” A soft, feminine voice came from behind me. I turned to see Ania padding into the room, cradling the other destined newborn in her arms. “I know I’m not exactly part of the family, but do you want to meet the other half of this divine duo?”

I smiled and waved her over. Her baby was even more beautiful than Lucius, probably owing to its angelic heritage. Though I thought I saw a pinkish tinge to the baby’s hair. A sign of pixie blood? I looked Ania over, studying her more thoroughly than when we’d first met. Specifically, her pink hair and the fact that she wasn’t sporting a different color at the roots. It made me wonder if the color was dye after all. I’d known enough pixies—especially through my royal pixie father’s side of the family—to recognize the signs of a half-pixie woman if I saw one. I was surprised it had slipped past me until now. Though, in my defense, there’d been a lot going on the day I met Ania.

“Boy or girl?” I leaned forward, smiling at the child.

“Girl.” Ania’s smile outshined mine. “Her name is Dalia.”

I smirked. “Fitting.”

Dalia—the Lithuanian goddess of fate and childbirth. I couldn’t think of a more appropriate name for a fated child like this one.

I touched Dalia’s tiny hand and her fingers closed around my finger, testing out her baby grip. Her eyes opened and she looked up at me, cooing softly.

“Well, aren’t you a beautiful little girl,” I whispered.

She squirmed in her mother’s arms, fussing a little, and then her gaze drifted to the side. I followed the direction of her stare and found… that she was looking right at Lucius. Lucius who’d also opened his eyes and looked right back at her.

I stood between the newborns, wondering. They held each other’s eyes with a seriousness that wasn’t possible for babies. Kids were born only able to see less than a foot in front of them and yet…

Yet these two were. They stared and it was almost like something passed between them, something beyond my understanding.

It sent a shiver down my spine.

Uncle Luc stood behind me and leaned over to whisper in my ear. “Neither On High nor I can control everything. We’ll have to wait and see how this shakes out, yes?”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, not looking forward to what the future would bring.

* * *

Later, back at home and after Bry was in bed, Sam came to me. He slipped into the house, touched me, caressed me—made me cry and made me beg. He broke me apart with his passion only to carefully and slowly put me back together again. I don’t remember half the night, half of the things we did, but I do recall being so… filled.

Not with him, but with love. Consumed by it. Overwhelmed by it. Destroyed and rebuilt with it.

With Lucia gone, there was nothing to hold us back—nothing to stop him from exploring my body and nothing to stop me from doing the same.

One kiss turned into dozens, one pinch turned into hundreds. My wolf rejoiced in my mate’s domination—his passionate demands—and my heart overflowed with emotion for this man, this angel.

I bit him, claimed him, over and over again until his blood flowed like a river down my throat. I knew he couldn’t come inside me, that he couldn’t take that last step, but I wanted anyone who looked at him to know he was claimed. Even if the scars wouldn’t last. He was mine.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

And Sam… did the same. Branding me with his goodness, ensuring that I was just as scarred and damaged as him. Some would look at me with raised eyebrows, but most recognized wolf mating bites when they saw them.

We finally collapsed, sated, covered in evidence of our passion and blood. We held each other close, sharing air, simply existing in one quiet place during one quiet moment in time. Content.

When I woke the next morning, he was already awake and buckling his pants. A steaming mug of coffee sat on the bedside table, waiting for me. I didn’t even question where it’d come from, assuming the cash he’d conjured to buy the drink was another “necessity.”

I sat up, pulling a blanket over my nakedness just in case Bry toddled in. I picked up the coffee and inhaled the aroma, letting it soothe me. I watched Sam dress, marveling at his muscular frame, the perfectly carved lines of his muscles. I remembered licking and tasting each one, pushing and taunting him with pleasure until he begged me to stop. He bent to tug on his boots and I spied the markings on his back. The shape of angelic wings shone brightly across his shoulders, like a tattoo etched in shimmering ink.

I’d never seen them so bright.

Everything else about Sam seemed brighter, too. His blue eyes shined like the clear sky of a sunny day. His hair shined a burnished blond and his skin tone seemed lighter, like he was losing his Florida tan.

I carefully set the mug aside, clenching my fist to rid myself of any trembling. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

He paused, shirt in his hands, and gave me his attention. “What do you mean?”

Innocence. Feigned innocence.

“Don’t give me that.” I shook my head. “You hardly look like a half-fallen anymore and I know all about what Gabriel said to you. He wouldn’t have offered you your feather if he didn’t think you were ready.”

Ready to do good again.

Ready to leave me.

“It was an emergency situation.” Sam pulled his shirt over his head, the dark fabric stretching taut across his chest. “It doesn’t mean I’ve earned redemption.”

“Sam.” I couldn’t keep the annoyance from my tone. “You helped destroy a demonic goddess who was out to usurp power from On High so she could wage war across the dimensions. I think that’s the sort of thing that gets His attention.”

Sam tucked in his shirt, not meeting my gaze. “That doesn’t mean I’m an angel again.”

“No,” I agreed with him. “But you’re a lot closer than you were before.”

There was no way he could deny that truth.

He looked at me, worry in his beautiful blue eyes. “Caith,” he murmured and lowered to a crouch in front of me. He ran his hands up my thighs, giving me a soft squeeze. “You know I love you, don’t you? I’d give up anything for you—even paradise.”

I lowered my eyes and sipped my coffee, trying to disguise the rush of heat to my cheeks. I didn’t know what to say. It was one thing to hear the man I loved offer to give up his divinity for me, but it was another to face the guilt from knowing what I took from him.

He gave me another squeeze, thumbs tracing circles on my legs, the sheet keeping me from enjoying the feel of skin on skin. “We will make this work. I promise you that.”

“Yeah,” I said noncommittally, gaze still lowered. “Yeah, we will.”

I didn’t want to admit my doubts. He was an angel. I was just a melting pot of genetics with strong as Hell—literally—demon blood in my veins. I didn’t know if I deserved his love or his vows, but I did know Sam was too good of a man to deny me. Even if it also made him too good of a man for me to deserve.

“I will see you tonight.” He leaned forward and gave me a kiss, something soft and sweet. “I’ll be taking Ania to meet with some of the other angels so they can arrange her safe passage home.”

“See you tonight.” I nodded.

Sam grabbed his jacket from a nearby chair and shrugged it on as he headed out the door.

The door, not through a sparkling ray of sunlight.

I swung my attention back to that chair and there, sitting in the middle where his jacket had laid moments before was…

A single white feather.

His trust staggered me. His faith in me overwhelming. His belief that I wouldn’t use this feather with evil intent consuming me. I picked it up, twirling the pale feather between my fingers, it’s downy lightness tickling the tips.

He gave me his feather.

And I was selfish enough to keep it.

* * *

Don’t miss out on the other Caith Morningstar novels.

- I can handle the blood, gore, and frustration, but can I deal with the pain of loving—possibly losing—the angel Samkiel? Probably not, but I’m gonna try anyway.

- I lost Sam once and survived. The question now is whether I can survive losing both of the men I love most?  Or rather, will the world survive?

- Now I’m running, I’m killing, I’m saving the world, and I’m… trying to hang on to my angelic mate, Sam.  I’m pretty sure I’m going to fail at one of those. I just hope it’s not Sam.

* * *