CHAPTER 18
Spring had rolled in at some point. Crisp air swept in through the open door of the cabin and Isadora breathed deep of it, savoured the freshness and the cold bite it still held as she moved around the kitchen area. Behind her, the fire crackled and popped, the heat of it keeping the chill at bay as she poured hot water into her mug.
She set the kettle back on the stove and walked to the calendar Rook had hung on a nail near the door to the bathroom, picked up the pen that dangled from a string and put a line through yesterday.
She stared at the date.
Six months.
It had been six months since Rook had blasted back into her life and they had put an end to the group who had been after the spell that bound them, and every single day with him had been bliss, passed peacefully in their new home.
She wasn’t a fool anymore. The peace they were enjoying wouldn’t last forever, even when she hoped that it would. Eventually, someone would follow a lead on her or Rook, and they would work hard enough to get past every decoy and false rumour she and Rook had spread across the globe with the help of Serenity and Apollyon, and their friends.
One day, someone would find them.
And that was fine.
They were prepared.
That day wouldn’t be the end of her and Rook’s life together.
It would be the end of the intruder’s life.
Isadora carried her violently pink and yellow spotted mug with her as she moved back through the kitchen towards the door, drawn there by her new favourite sound.
The methodical thud and oh-so-masculine grunt that accompanied it always drew her to the porch so she could admire him.
As her slippers hit the deck, she was greeted by the stunning sight of Rook working in the small clearing in the dense forest. The lake that glittered in the sunlight beyond their sloping yard and the snow-capped mountains that rose on the other side of it into the clear blue sky added a breathtaking finishing touch to the scene.
Would she ever stop feeling free whenever she stood in this spot, breathed in the clean air and felt the hum of magic in everything around her?
They had ventured deep into the Canadian wilderness to find this place, one that had instantly felt like home and where they could finally settle. It was miles from the nearest town, and far off the beaten track. She hadn’t seen a soul other than Rook in the area in all the months they had been here.
It was just her and him.
And that made it perfect.
She hugged her mug of tea to her black woollen jumper as she watched that slice of perfection working, his muscles shifting deliciously beneath his golden skin as he brought the axe over his head in a fast arc and it sliced clean through the log he had placed on the chopping block.
Perfection.
“You could do this with a spell,” he grumbled and she smiled at how annoyed he sounded.
It was all an act, one designed to draw the response he wanted to hear from her.
She shrugged and sipped her tea. “But then I wouldn’t get to watch you.”
He grinned at that, and damn, he was returning to the angel he had been all those years ago when they had first met. Less serious and far more mischievous and wicked. Devastatingly sexy.
He positioned another log, taking his time about it, letting her drink her fill of the sight of him, and then hefted his axe above his head and paused, his dark turquoise gaze sliding to her.
“You have me chopping wood so much I’m not surprised you’re always so feisty.” His grin stretched wider as he tightened his grip, causing every muscle to flex and sending a bolt of heat right through her, one that made her want to bite her lip and press her thighs together.
Damn him.
“It’s a strange form of foreplay if you ask me.” He casually lowered the axe, gripping it in both hands, one at the base of the handle and one near the blade.
Isadora shook her head and held back her smile. “I can go inside if you want.”
“Stay right there,” he growled and swung the axe, slamming it into the chopping block beside the log.
She wasn’t sure she could have moved even if she had wanted to as he prowled towards her, his eyes darkening rapidly, filling with need that echoed her own. Mother Earth, she swore he was sexier now than he had been as a guardian angel, brash and confident in his own skin, aware that he was powerful and strong, and that she loved it.
Heat flashed through her as he stalked towards her, moving slowly, his eyes locked on her the entire time, filled with a look that said he wanted to devour her.
She certainly wanted to devour him.
He mounted the steps to the deck, grabbed her around her hips as he reached the last one and lifted her. She quickly held her tea out to her side, away from him as it spilled, and chastised him with a look.
He just grinned at her and the mug disappeared from her hand.
“That was my favourite mug.” She cuffed him playfully around his head, earning a glare from him.
“It’s hideous,” he muttered and it reappeared on the small wooden table beside their chairs.
Rook had positioned their cabin perfectly so they could watch the sunset together from the deck and she loved lazing there with him, recovering from their sessions.
She lowered her hands and skimmed her fingers over the new ink on his forearms, two thin bands that ran around them just above the spell that bound them together. It was the first spell she had learned from the books they had been stealing from every coven around the globe, using his ability to cast portals to get them in and out without the witches sensing them.
The book that had contained this spell had been in one of the oldest covens in Italy, and she was sure they weren’t happy about the fact it had disappeared without a trace, but she didn’t care.
It kept Rook safe.
It kept him hidden from everyone but her, and it had been made possible by the first memory of his that she had unlocked when they had been building their home, one that had confirmed something Apollyon had said.
The Devil wasn’t Rook’s master.
She was.
It had taken Rook a few days to get over the release of the first few memories, so they had been doing it little by little, one session every week. The first memory she had unlocked for him had shaken him the worst, but he was quicker to process each new one they freed.
“You’re thinking about it again.” He lowered her to her feet and brushed his palms over her cheeks, framing her face and tipping her head up so she was looking into his eyes. He sighed, the soft sound conveying a wealth of emotion. “It wasn’t your fault, Isadora.”
But it was.
He could tell her that it wasn’t all he wanted, but it wouldn’t stop her from feeling guilty about what had happened to him.
Rook had fallen when he had thought she had died.
But unlike other angels, falling into service of the Devil hadn’t been the catalyst for the change that had come over him.
He had been so distraught and enraged that he had fought the Devil, desperate for revenge, to claim the head of the one who had taken her from him. The torture he had endured had taken its toll on him though, and the Devil had easily defeated him, subduing him again and locking him in a lightless cell.
The pain of losing her had awoken a darkness in Rook, one so powerful that it had swiftly devoured all the light in him, turning him into a demonic angel.
“You fell because of me,” she whispered and smoothed her palms over his thick onyx hair, her eyebrows furrowing as she thought about all the pain he had gone through, how terrible it must have been in order to cause the darkness to take hold of him and vanquish the light.
The Devil had been quick to use a witch to take his memories of what had happened, fooling Rook into believing he served him like all the other Hell’s angels, when he had still been hers to command.
She blamed herself for the fact the Devil had taken his memories from him.
She had escaped and the Devil had needed to keep him in his possession, so he could use Rook as leverage when he found her again, sure that she would do whatever he wanted when she realised that Rook was alive.
Rook dipped his head and swept his lips across her cheek, and she frowned at him as he pulled back.
“I hate seeing you cry.” He gave her a tight smile, his dark eyebrows furrowing as he gazed down at her. “We’re together now. Stronger for everything that has happened… think of it that way.”
She nodded and sniffled, scrubbed her hands across her cheeks and drew down a deep breath. She wasn’t going to cry, not again. She had done some serious ugly crying when she had unlocked those memories for him. Rook had teased her for days afterwards, saying the sight of her had terrified him more than the memories she had freed. She hadn’t appreciated his attempt to lighten the mood at the time.
There was still a long way to go before she had freed all of his memories, but it was a start, and hopefully she would be able to free some good memories soon, ones that would give him back the better days he had passed with her.
He took hold of her hands and rubbed his thumbs over her wrists, teasing the inside of them and sending a shiver up her arms. He trailed his fingers upwards and his expression shifted, turning serious again.
Isadora looked down at the twin bands that encircled her forearms, ones that matched the new ones on his and concealed her from everyone but him.
“I’m safe.” She twisted her hands and wrapped them around his forearms. They tensed beneath her fingers and she could feel the doubts in him, the fears he buried deep so she didn’t see them, and the guilt he felt. “You didn’t lead the Devil to me.”
“Not yet anyway,” he muttered.
Isadora released his arms and snaked hers around his neck, drawing him down to her. He bent at the knee, bringing his face level with hers, and she sighed at the hurt in his eyes, at the thoughts she knew tormented him, fears that were unfounded. The Devil couldn’t use him against her. Rook wasn’t his to command, which meant he couldn’t easily track where he was. The bastard was going to have to jump through the same hoops as the witches if he wanted to find them.
It didn’t stop Rook from being protective of her. He hated letting her out of his sight, was her shadow whenever she wanted to take a walk, her escort whenever she uncovered the location of another spell book she desired, and her partner in crime.
And she kind of loved it.
Not that she was going to tell him that.
She smiled as he scooped her up into his arms and carried her into the cabin, kicking the door closed behind him.
“Where are we going?” Her heart fluttered, pulse racing at the way he held her close to him, his bare chest pressing against her side.
“Don’t act coy.” He grinned, lowered his head and nibbled her shoulder through her jumper. “Someone got me all fired up watching me chop wood.”
She frowned when he turned right, away from the bedroom area of their cabin, and the heat flowing through her veins grew hotter as he stopped near the fire.
“I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.” He kneeled, laid her down on the rug in front of the grey stone fireplace, and covered her with his body.
She moaned and arched up against him as he cupped her breast through her jumper, lightly squeezing it, and the thought of making love with him in front of the fire sent her temperature soaring.
Mother Earth, she was aching for him, wanted to caress and lick every inch of him, to worship his body and then have him worship hers.
She wasn’t sure she could go slow though.
Was one hundred and ten percent certain she couldn’t when he rose to kneel between her thighs and fingered the button of his black jeans, the firelight chasing over his muscles, accentuating them in a way that had that ache becoming a fierce demanding need.
The sexy tilt of his lips as he slowly popped the buttons, that self-assuredness that shone in his eyes as she hungrily devoured his body with her gaze, was her undoing.
She sat up, tore her jumper off and struggled out of her t-shirt, cursing when she couldn’t remove them quickly enough.
His low chuckle warmed her.
So she was a little impatient. She wasn’t the only one.
She tossed her tops onto the couch beside her and gave him a pointed look when she found he was naked before her now, his jeans vanished and his long hard cock jutting proudly towards her.
She groaned as he slowly fisted it, fell onto her back and wrestled with her jeans as that ache bloomed hotter inside her.
They disappeared too.
She did love that ability of his.
A moan bubbled up her throat as he covered her, his hips pressing between her thighs and cock rubbing her sensitive bead. She bowed against him and kissed him, claimed his mouth in a hard one because she couldn’t hold back, was too far gone to care if he teased her about it later.
He was right.
The sight of him chopping wood was a weird kind of foreplay, but damn, nothing fired her up quite like it.
Nothing fired him up quite like it either.
Whenever she found him chopping wood, it always ended like this, with them tangled together, lost in each other.
She moaned into his mouth as he eased back and fed his cock into her, as he filled and stretched her, taking the edge off her need. She skimmed her fingers down his back, delighting in the feel of his muscles tensing beneath them, all that power at his disposal, strength he had used on her more than once.
“We ever going to do this thing slowly?” he murmured between kisses and she gasped as he began thrusting, curling his hips in long, urgent strokes that sent her flying higher.
“Not sure.” She moaned and rocked in time with him, lowered her hand and clutched his backside as she wrapped her legs around him and used the heels of her feet to spur him on. “Like it like this.”
He grunted in agreement, buried his face in her neck and sucked on it as he pumped her, clutching her hip to keep her in place.
Isadora jammed her heels into his bottom, making him go faster as she desperately reached for release, swore to herself they would take things slower in round two.
“Sweet fuck,” he muttered and claimed her mouth again, kissing her deep and hard as he claimed her body.
He groaned and uttered a raw curse, broke away from her lips and pressed his forehead against hers, his breath washing across her face as he thrust into her, sending wave after wave of heat rolling through her that gathered in her belly as she moaned.
“Were we always like this?” He lengthened his strokes and if he thought she could hold a conversation while he was doing that, he was mistaken.
“No,” she mumbled and tipped her head back as he shifted his knees, pushing her right leg up with his thigh and pumped her harder, hitting just the right spot. She gasped. “Yes.”
“Which?” He grunted and groaned, shuddered in a way that said it felt damned good to him too, and muttered, “Never mind.”
She giggled and gripped his shoulders, dug her nails in and clung to him for dear life as he took her higher. She couldn’t hold on much longer.
“Fuck,” he bit out and she moaned as he jerked deep into her, as he throbbed and scalded her with his seed.
A cry tore from her lips as the feel of him pushed her over the edge. Hot fiery sparks swept through her and she quivered, every inch of her trembling as bliss rolled over her.
Rook groaned and collapsed on top of her, breathing hard against her throat as he continued to pulse inside her and she throbbed around him.
Isadora sagged against the rug, her muscles turning liquid as she absorbed every drop of the pleasure he had given her and soaked up a little of what she could feel running through him too. She threaded her fingers through his hair, slicking the sweat-dampened strands back, and sighed.
“We started out gentler.” She stared at the vaulted ceiling of the cabin, remembering those early days, and chuckled softly. “I think you were right…”
He lifted his head from her chest and frowned at her. “About what?”
“Sometimes it does pay to be a bad angel.”
He slowly smiled, moved onto his elbows and pressed between her thighs. “Want me to show you just how bad I can be?”
That achy heat bloomed inside her again.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and lured him down to her. “Hell, yes.”
He claimed her lips in a kiss that seared her.
Stamped his name on her heart all over again.
And as he held her close to him, the sense of peace that had been building inside her over the past few months crystallised into a feeling that stole her breath and that heart.
After a thousand years of being restless, of constantly moving, she was finally right where she belonged.
She was finally home again.
In the arms of her angel.
The End
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