The alarm clock went off for the second time before Gabe’s heart began to pound. He leaned over her, kissing her shoulder. “Cassandra?”

Though she stirred, she said nothing and did not roll to face him.

“Cass, today is a big day.” He kissed the nape of her neck, and her skin nearly scalded his lips. “Cass!” Panic coursed through him as he tried to turn her over as gently, but rapidly, as he could. “Cass!”

“Gabe?” Her eyes flickered, tried to open, but ultimately didn’t. “Let me go back to sleep.”

His sigh of relief could probably be heard halfway across town. She must have just been hot from sleeping. “Sorry, no can do. You have an appointment with a surgeon today. You haven’t eaten or drank since midnight, and I will not let you miss the most important date of your life.”

Smirking, he climbed out of bed. He’d been up and dressed for almost an hour. If not for the slight sedative the doctor had prescribed it was possible she would have too. This was the day that began the rest of her life. In eight hours he would be able to help take away her pain, and they could start to plan for the future.

Turning back to her he frowned. “Cassandra, those drugs shouldn’t have been that damn strong.”

“I don’t think it’s them.” Her voice was weary, her eyes still closed as her hand fell across her forehead. “I don’t feel good.”

“I’m sure it’s nerves. Mine are making me feel like jumping out of my skin, and I’m just a bystander.” She still hadn’t moved. “Up you get.” Tugging the blanket off he expected her to curl into a ball and demand he put it back as usual.

She didn’t.

The room was suddenly far too hot, his shirt too tight and the lack of movement from the bed made his heart skip a beat.

“Cassandra?” He touched her shoulder, certain of her spiked temperature. “Cass, can you get up?”

“I don’t think I want too.” Her eyelids fluttered again, and she gasped.

“Cassandra!” His fingers wrapped into her arms, too tightly, but he didn’t stop. “Don’t do this. Not today.” Though he spoke the words looking at her, they were for his father—for the angels.

Her heartbeat was weak, it barely fluttered from what he could tell. Hastily, he put his hand over her heart. A strangled cry tore past his lips because the beating of her heart was hard to feel. “No, no, no.”

Torn between holding onto her and doing what he could to wake her or calling for help. He was suspended in motion. Neither moving nor breathing, Gabe held her as his vision blurred with tears.

In one beat he was frozen, in the next he’d bolted, nearly dropping Cassandra onto the bed as he dove for his phone on the sofa.

His hand shook as he slammed his index finger into the buttons. Why did you give up your wings? She needs them now!

“911, what’s your emergency?” A thick Bostonian accent drifted from his phone.

“I need an ambulance. My . . . my . . . I think she’s dying. Please hurry.”

“I need you to stay on the line with me, Sir. Can you tell me the address?”

He rattled off the number, right down to the door code.

“Explain the nature of the situation?”

“I don’t have time! She doesn’t have time!”

“Sir, I can help you do what’s best.”

“She has cancer. She’s got a fever, and I think she passed out.”

“An ambulance will be on its way. Do not move her. Keep her cool and do your best to perform chest compressions if she stops breathing.”

He let go of the phone and the words muddled together. Gabe could hear the woman, but he wasn’t certain what she was saying.

“You offered me my wings! I’ll take them. I’ll take them now, and I’ll save her myself!” His voice was raw as he screamed at his father—because he knew the man was there.

“I mean it.” He swallowed, forcing back the cry of fury. “Give them back to me. If you won’t allow her safety, I’ll take away her pain until it manipulates those fucking cancer cells right out of her!” His lungs burned, screaming for air as his body heaved from screaming. “Where are you when I need you?”

He spun, checking for any sign of his father or any other angel.

None were there.

His hand clawed at the neck of his shirt, jerking it over his head.

No wings unfurled.

“You wouldn’t abandon me. You might have threatened it the other day, but you wouldn’t actually do it.” He gagged as realization set in. His father wasn’t coming. The angels weren’t coming. His wings weren’t coming back.

“Fine! The human medicine will save her. She’s too close to lose now. You’ll see I was not blinded by anything. I had hope, the very thing that angels are practically born to have flowing through their veins.”

“Gabe?”

The sound of his name was almost lost to the swarming sound of panic in his ears.

He crossed the room, but she was asleep—or unconscious—he didn’t know how to tell which. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to hold her.

“No, keep her cool.” He was up, tripping over his feet, as he scrambled to get to the freezer. Gabe was so numb he didn’t feel the cold as he slammed the ice into the stupid angel wing dishtowel Cassandra insisted on buying. “Just hang on.” His teeth ground together, and his mind a swirl of nothing as he dropped onto the bed beside her.

The sound of sirens filled his ears just as he slipped the cold pack under the back of her neck. He glimpsed it then, just for a second, but Gabe saw the blackness cover her whole.