Keon. It had to be.

For a moment, I was transfixed by him, and then movement behind him drew my attention. A steely blue appendage tipped with an arrowhead curved over his shoulder to rest on his pectoral.

A tail.

He had a fucking tail.

He canted his head, eyes narrowing speculatively, and I tore my attention away from him and fixed it on Lilith. She set her goblet down on the table by her throne, her dark, penetrating gaze roving over Mal, Conah, and then me. She lingered on me a moment, and my pulse sped up. Could she see? Could she see through the glamour? But then her focus was back on Conah, and her perfect pout curved in a welcoming smile.

“Conah, son of Adam, blood of my veins, welcome home.”

Conah inclined his head and fell to one knee. Mal did the same, shooting me a look that urged me to copy the greeting. I did so, keeping my head down.

“Rise, rise, my sons.”

We got to our feet, but I kept my eyes down, not wanting to draw her attention.

“And where is my son, Azazel?”

“Your Highness, Azazel will be here for the wedding,” Conah said. “He had urgent Dominus business to attend to.”

She canted her head, and her eyes narrowed. “Dominus business that would take him to Heresat to visit Leviathan?”

Conah’s mouth parted, and then he snapped it closed.

“You are too wise, my queen,” Mal said. “Azazel dances to his own tune.”

“And you cover for him,” Lilith sighed. “My son has always played by his own rules. No doubt, he will come to see me when he is ready to do so.”

She sounded sad, and I couldn’t help but look up at her. Shit, she was looking right at me.

“And you,” she said. “Raised in the human realm. Lost to us until the scythe found you. How are you settling into your new world?”

Shit, shit, I needed to speak. I cleared my throat. “I’m settling in well, my queen. It’s an honor to serve you.”

“It pains me that you were left out of the fold for so long. Your blood sire was negligent.” She looked to Conah. “Have you ascertained his bloodline? He must have celestial blood to be chosen.”

Celestial as in one of the fallen angels, one of the original bloodlines.

“No, my queen. Not yet,” Conah replied.

“Hmmm. No matter. I’m sure the culprit will step forward to claim credit eventually. After all, a Dominus is a prize to be flaunted by any bloodline, and it’s a rare occurrence for the Dominus not to be from my blood.” She studied me for a long beat, eyes boring into me. “No, you are not my blood.” She picked up her goblet and took a sip. “I trust your journey was pleasant? I was told you arrived in Asmodeus’s carriage.” A deliberate pause. “Why is that?”

“We had a mishap, my queen,” Mal said smoothly. “Our carriage broke down, but we were close to Asmodeus’s estate and so asked for help.”

She was silent for a long beat, her expression unreadable. “My carriages are built for sturdiness, and my drakes are the best in the Underealm. There are no mishaps. Make sure the drake master hears of this.”

Keon smiled, showcasing fangs. “With pleasure.” His voice was like honey, the kind of voice that would lull you to sleep before slitting your throat.

“And Asmodeus aided you?” she asked Conah, but didn’t wait for a reply. “Asmodeus loves to please.” She ran her tongue across her teeth, and I could have sworn she was thinking about sex. “You’ll stay in the Keep until the night before the wedding. Quarters have been prepared for the Dominus in my private wing.”

Conah’s shoulders tensed. “We are honored, my queen.”

She waved us away. “Go, rest. Enjoy your bachelorhood, for the ties of marital bliss will soon be around your throat.”

She leaned back on her throne and closed her eyes. We’d been dismissed.

“I can’t read her,” Conah said. “But keeping us close…That could be a bad sign.”

“But we’re together,” Mal said. “Surely, she’d split us up if she wanted to get to you.”

Conah ran a hand over his face. “I can’t think about this anymore.”

He dropped into the nearest seat and sat with his head in his hands. I wanted to stroke his hair and soothe him. It was meant to be a joyous time, a time of celebration not just for him but for the Underealm, but it was like there was a cloud hanging over us all.

“Go shower, or have a long soak.” I grabbed his hand and tugged. “Do it. You need to relax. Mal and I will be right here, keeping watch.”

Conah puffed out his cheeks and stood. “You’re right. There’s nothing to be gained by worrying.”

He shucked off his cloak and strode out of the lounge into one of the bedrooms.

I turned to Mal. “Do you think she’s guilty?”

“I have no idea.”

“She seemed concerned about the carriage breaking down but more because she felt it was a negative reflection on her, and then she went all dreamy over Asmodeus.”

“They were lovers,” Mal reminded me. “My bloodline, remember.”

“I don’t know her well enough to read her.”

“No one can read Lilith except Samael, and he…He hasn’t been himself for the longest of time.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“No one knows for sure. Some say that he’s lost his mind. Others say that he’s catatonic. He hasn’t been seen for decades, and there is a rumor that he’s dead.”

“Can fallen angels die?”

Mal shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.” He cupped my shoulders. “Listen, Fee, I know you have a thing about getting answers, but promise me on this occasion you’ll keep your head down and stay invisible. Let’s just get this wedding over with and get home, okay?” He caressed my cheek with the backs of his fingers. “While we’re here, we play the part. We stay platonic.”

“Because I’m a guy?”

He licked his lips. “No, because if I’m balls deep in you, then I’m not thinking straight. If I know there’s any possibility of getting balls deep, then I’m not thinking straight, and right now, I need to be vigilant. We all do.”

Made sense.

“So low profile?” he urged.

“I promise.”

I just hoped I’d be able to keep it.

I lay in the overly large bed with the overly silky sheets, staring at the ceiling. What time was it? My body clock was fucked. My body wanted to be fucked, and I was half tempted to slip into Mal’s room, climb on top of him, and take what I needed, but he was right. It was best to keep sex off the table while we were here.

We needed to be vigilant. If only my body would agree to that?

Could this be the heat? No, it was too soon. I had another two weeks at least before that came on, and by that time I’d be mated to Grayson.

Hunter would no longer have a hold on me.

I slipped out of bed, dressed, and wandered over to the balcony. The windows were frosted over with ice, but the glass was warm to the touch. My skin felt feverish and hot. I needed the cool kiss of night air.

I unlatched the window and stepped out onto the balcony. Cold air slapped at my face, trickled through my hair, and tightened my nipples. I leaned against the rail and looked out at the gardens that stretched as far as the wall that contained the Keep.

Frozen silver paths snaked through the grounds beneath black arches and around fountains that spewed hot water. Domed areas containing miniature green gardens were dotted here and there, and far below, wandering along a path, was a lone figure with huge inky wings. I blinked and stared. Not one set of wings but two. They flared and flapped and then folded. He paused outside a dome and looked up, and I could have sworn he was looking right at me. But how could that be? He was so far away, and I was hidden in shadow. I was imagining things.

But then the figure turned away from the dome, spread its wings, and rose up into the air. Wait…what? It was headed this way. It was headed right for me.

Chapter Twenty-Five

I staggered backward, turned, and ran toward my room.

“Wait!” The voice rising over the beat of wings was a command my body followed instinctively.

Pulse fluttering like a trapped moth in my throat, heart pounding erratically, I turned to face the figure. He was huge, a head taller than Azazel, which was saying something. His skin was tawny, eyes like mercury, and a face like an Adonis. Long dark locks framed that face, spilling over powerful shoulders to lay on taut pecs encased in a metallic tunic. Four wings rose up behind him like an epic shield. He snapped them closed, and they vanished.

“Who are you?” he asked. “Your face…It’s familiar.”

Oh, fuck. My face? How could my face be familiar to anyone here? “I’m Felton.”

“Felton? A strange name for a female,” he said.

Mother of Bakewell slices. He could see me. My hand went to the amulet to make sure it was still there, tucked under my shirt. Yep, still there. How was this possible?

“Who are you?” he asked.

He frowned, taking a step closer. His presence was a beacon of hope and security, a calm, an assurance that brought tears to my eyes and made me want to go down on my knees and worship him, and I knew instinctively and primally who he was.

“Samael?”

He touched my cheek lightly with his fingers, and heat spiraled out from the contact. “You have her face, and yet you are not her. What trickery is this?”

He sounded confused.

“I don’t know what you mean?”

He gripped my chin and tilted my face up to his. “Her mouth, her eyes.” He smiled. “My nose and my brows.” He cupped my cheek. “Daughter. I have waited for you for an eternity.”

My breath hitched. “I’m…I’m not your daughter.”

“You are my blood, child. You are my daughter.” His brows pinched together. “I don’t have much time. Who knows how long this moment of clarity will last.” He gripped my shoulders. “You must not let Lilith see you. You must not let him rise. You must never set him free no matter the lure, no matter the threat, or all the sacrifices that came before will have been for nothing.”