Chapter 19
“Raphael!” Michael used his heavy boot to kick open the thick door to Raphael’s chambers, his Honor unconscious in his arms. Reflecting back on everything that transpired between them, Michael knew he was naïve to believe they left the worst behind. That he could move forward, his soulmate at his side, and exist happily ever after.
Nothing is ever that simple.
Raphael’s office turned up empty. Michael promptly bellowed his brother’s name, running up and down various hallways whilst clutching his lover. Whenever he glanced down, Honor’s head lolled to and fro, causing his heart to beat a rapid tattoo at the sight.
“Michael?”
“Thank the very Fates,” Michael said when Raphael stepped out of a treatment room. Raph’s eyes bulged at the sight of a frantic Michael, Honor’s tiny, limp body held firmly against his chest. “Prithee, brother. Help her.” His voice caught and a lump stuck in Michael’s throat. He prayed Raphael knew what to do. Michael couldn’t lose his dulcedo. Not after traveling to infernum and back to be together.
“Bring her in here.” Raphael’s tone was confident and authoritative. The take-charge attitude allowed Michael to relaxed a fraction. His brother would be strong at a time Michael could not, and Michael appreciated it more than Raph would ever know. Without his brother’s self-assurance anchoring him, Michael would be a frantic mess.
Carrying Honor, Michael followed Raph into an empty treatment room.
“Lay her here.”
Michael snarled and gathered Honor even closer. “No.”
“Brother,” Raphael said soothingly. “I must examine her.” When Michael’s response was to glare, Raphael sighed. “All right. You hop up on the bed and cradle her between your legs, her back to your chest.” Raphael flicked his gaze down Michael’s body and grabbed a loose tunic from a hook on the door. “Mayhap put this on.”
In such a hurry to get his love to the infirmary, after collecting Honor and covering her with his robe, Michael forgot about himself. He stood in the room as naked as the day he was created. With Raph’s assistance, Michael wiggled into the tunic, refusing to release Honor for a single minute. Once Raph deemed him decent, Michael climbed onto the bed and arranged Honor as Raphael instructed.
“Fates, hurry, brother.”
Raphael bent over the bed, listening to Honor’s heart and inspecting her eyes and mouth. A swipe of a blunt object up the sole of her foot caused her leg to spasm.
“Nothing appears amiss,” Raphael said. “She is perfectly healthy.”
“Something is wrong! Can’t you see? She is unconscious, or is that considered normal behavior for an immortal these days?”
Raphael pinned Michael with a stern look. “Tell me what led up to the moment she went unconscious.”
Michael glossed over their lovemaking—Raphael did not need gory details to make a diagnosis—and explained what occurred from that point on, how Honor cried out, clutched her arm, and said it burned like fire.
“Then she just…” Michael took a deep breath. “Her eyes rolled back and she fell silent.” Michael blinked back tears and ignored the burning in his throat. He reached out and grabbed Raphael’s arm, forcing his brother to meet his gaze. “Tell me you can help her.”
Raphael nodded. “Show me where the pain originated.”
Michael huffed. “I already looked. Her skin is unblemished and smooth.”
Raph’s eyes narrowed. “Humor me.”
Michael bit back the words that clung to the tip of his tongue. Lashing out at Raphael would get him nowhere, and certainly did nothing to help Honor. “Her right arm. Between her elbow and shoulder.”
Raphael took the collar of Honor’s robe in hand and slowly lowered it to reveal her pale shoulder. Raphael’s eyes bulged and the Archangel gasped and nearly stumbled. His reaction made Michael’s heart stutter.
“What? Raphael, what is it?” From his position behind Honor, her head slumped against his chest, Michael couldn’t see whatever stole Raph’s breath and that made him anxious.
“By the very Fates above…” Raphael muttered.
“Raph, you’d better bloody well tell me what is going on!”
“Look.” Raphael removed Honor’s arm from the sleeve and lifted it so Michael could see for himself. When he saw what shocked Raphael—an immortal who, during his long existence, had seen everything—Michael froze. His pulse whooshed in his head and his mouth went dry, yet despite how shocking the sight, a surge of satisfaction and possessiveness filled Michael’s soul.
In that moment, everything became… right. The pieces falling into place exactly as the Fates intended.
Honor began to wake, shifting in Michael’s arms. Immediately, Michael’s attention focused on his lover. Overcome with relief, Michael brought her close, arms circling protectively, and nuzzled her ear.
“Are you alright, dulcedo?” Michael failed to hide the reverence in his voice.
“What… what happened?” Before Michael could speak, Honor flinched. “M-my arm.”
“Shhh, all is well.” Michael brushed a kiss across her temple. “In truth, all is more than well.” Michael nodded to Raphael who lowered Honor’s arm to the bed and fetched a silvered mirror. Raph angled it such that Honor could see her right bicep. “Look, my love.”
Michael watched Honor as her eyes locked onto her reflection. At first, she appeared confused, which quickly transformed into disbelief, and finally, astonishment. She shuddered in his arms and Michael knew it to be a shudder of desire, not one of fear. He knew because every one of Honor’s emotions belonged to him, just as his belonged to Honor. Their unbreakable bond joined them as one for all eternity.
“It’s…” Honor’s voice tapered off. Literally speechless, Honor was too captivated by the sight in the mirror to concentrate.
“It’s me, dulcedo. My love, my presence in your life, my very heart and soul. Depicted on your skin. A reminder that I’ll always be there to protect you.” Reverently, Michael ran a hand down her slender arm, from shoulder to elbow, skimming over her new tattoo, an exact replica of Michael’s sword, the one branded on his own right bicep, only scaled to fit Honor’s smaller stature.
Honor twisted around to meet Michael’s gaze. The devotion and pride in her shimmering golden brown eyes filled his heart and soul in a way nothing else ever had, or ever would.
“I love it,” she whispered. “I am honored to wear your symbol and show everyone to whom I belong.”
“You are amazing,” Michael said right before taking Honor’s mouth in a hungry kiss. Honor turned in his arms to straddle Michael’s lap and he took advantage of the position, delving his tongue deeper into the hot, slick cavern of her mouth.
The last thing Michael heard before becoming lost in his soulmate was the click of the door as Raphael left the room.
* * *
Arm firmly around Honor’s waist, Michael led his lover into the Guard’s hall, his emotions bouncing all over the place. In the span of less than a day, Michael and his forces successfully banished the Daemon Kings and Horsemen, he rescued his Honor, and the two of them completed the soulmate bond. After the unexpected scare when Michael’s tattoo of the Sword of Light, the symbol of the Archangel of Protection, branded itself upon Honor’s skin, they returned to Michael’s home and spent the remaining hours of the night making love.
Michael smiled as he remembered how thoroughly he explored and tasted every part of Honor’s body, reveling in their bond. One that grew stronger with each touch and stroke of his fingers. Soulmates, something Michael believed to be nothing more than an ancient tale, passed along generations. After the best night of his existence, Michael forced himself to rouse and leave the comfort and warmth of having his dulcedo wrapped in his arms when all he desired was to spend the next several days indulging in his lover.
Instead, he woke Honor and they traveled to the hall of the Guard, because his work never ceased. Now Michael must needs contend with the fact that somehow, one of the Horsemen did the impossible… escaped Dion’s wards and now freely walks the Earthly plane.
Those bloody Fates. Didn’t Michael deserve a holiday? Apparently the Fates thought not. They didn’t even grace him with a day or two to enjoy his new mate.
Inside the chamber, heads turned and eyes stared, curiosity teeming from the angelen and sancten that sat around the table. Michael ignored them and brought Honor forward. He grabbed an empty chair and arranged it as close to his own as possible and helped her sit. The bond sent Michael Honor’s twinge of embarrassment at being the focus of everyone’s attention, but he felt it would pass. Once he announced her status as his soulmate, Michael had no doubt the Guard would accept her as family.
Michael caught Dante’s attention, and noted the dark shadows beneath his eyes and the barest remnants of bruises on his face. Dante gave Michael a sharp nod, which Michael returned. It didn’t escape Michael that the wraith was absent. Something to inquire into later. Young Dion sat next to Dante, twisting his fingers in his lap. Michael sighed internally. Yet another problem to deal with. Another ego to soothe, as the boy was certain to be distraught, Dion likely tormenting himself, wondering how a Horseman broke through the lad’s impenetrable wards.
“My cherished and loyal Guard,” Michael announced from his place at the head of the table. He shifted to stand behind Honor, hands on her shoulders. “I’d like to start with an announcement, one that holds no relevance as to why we are here, but I bring news.”
Another flicker of embarrassment from Honor crossed the tether. It seemed his lover was uncomfortable being the center of attention. Well, it would be just this once, then Honor would decide how much or how little she interacted with the Guard, though Michael secretly hoped Honor would come to enjoy the company of the males and female that gave Michael their loyalty. Honor’s presence soothed his anger and brought him peace, something he hadn’t felt in centuries, if ever.
“This is Honor Ward, a Watcher.” Michael waited for the gasps and murmurs to subside before continuing. He expected the Guard’ shock. Watchers were rarely, if ever, seen. Most of the immortals in the hall never encountered one, nor would they under normal circumstances. “Honor is my soulmate. My other half, sent to me by the Fates.” He gave Honor’s shoulders a gentle squeeze to reassure his nervous mate.
The low chattering rose until the room was in chaos. Some of the Guard babbled excited congratulations, some were confused, and others fell silent.
“But, in truth, I thought soulmates weren’t real.”
Michael turned to one of his angels and grinned. “As did I, but as you can see, they are quite real. I can assure you, our souls have bonded as one. From what I have been told, I am the first of our kind to find my soulmate, or at least, the first of the immortals we know of.” He took in the faces of his Guard, his family, the males and female Michael entrusted with his existence, and now trusted with his soulmate. “Honor is my reason for existing, and I expect the respect you give me to extend to my mate.”
Everyone nodded and Michael didn’t detect any dissent. Good.
“Now, I want to know how a bloody Horseman escaped the barn.” His, and everyone else’s, attention turned to Dion. The boy gulped loudly, his large Adam’s apple bobbing on his long, slender neck. Michael still had difficulty reconciling this gangly man-child with a frighteningly talented Master of Practitioners.
“I fear…” Dion licked his lips. For the most bloody powerful immortal on the Earthly plane, the boy needed a swift kick in the pants and a hefty dose of confidence. “When I lowered the ward to allow the wraith entry. That is the only possible chance of escape, but,” Dion paused and Michael grew impatient, gesturing he continue. “For the Horseman to have gotten out, he would have required the assistance of a sorcerer. A strong one. One I did not, or could not, detect at the time.”
The blood drained from Michael’s head and he slumped into his seat. Until Dion mentioned it, the idea had slipped Michael’s mind. He recalled a conversation from a while back. One discussing the possibility the Horsemen used a practitioner of their own to help them avoid capture. It appeared the theory was correct. If only Michael had done something about it sooner.
A loud thump on the table broke the silence. Michael jerked his head up to the sight of Donovan on his feet, his expression hard and jaw set with determination. “I volunteer to lead a party of warriors to hunt down this Horseman.”
Others immediately chimed in with their desire to accompany Donovan on this impromptu mission. Michael rubbed his forehead, not eager to send his warriors into battle against a Horseman after the disaster in the barn. When Honor slid her hand onto Michael’s thigh and squeezed, a soothing calm trickled across the bond and a sense of peace washed over him. Michael put his own hand over Honor’s and smiled.
“Thank you, my dulcedo.”
“You make me strong,” Honor whispered so low only Michael could hear. “This is my gift to you. I shall always be with you, if not physically then in spirit, to keep you level-headed and temper your anger.”
“You have no idea how much I need that.”
Honor winked. “I respectfully disagree, my love. I have a fairly good grasp on your tendency toward outbursts.” Smiling at his cheeky mate, Michael winked back and released Honor’s hand so he could once more stand.
“Quiet.” Michael didn’t raise his voice. It wasn’t necessary. His very presence and status as an Archangel commanded respect. “Donovan.” He faced the ginger-haired angel. “I shall grant your request for warriors to seek out the Horseman,” A wide grin split Donovan’s face. “You may choose five others to accompany you. My only provision is that I expect regular updates.”
Donovan nodded. “Of course, Michael.” The large warrior took his seat, looking pleased.
That done, Michael turned to Dante and Dion. “And what of the King of Lust?”
Dante went rigid in his chair and what little color he had bled from his face. Dante spoke only one word. “Banished.”
“Did you get what you needed?” Michael asked. He didn’t want to pry in front of the Guard, but in truth, Michael envied Dante, as Michael wanted to be the one to inflict pain on the Daemon King.
“It is done,” Dante said, his lips pulled in a tight line and his spine unnaturally straight. “That is all I care to divulge and I do not want to ever speak of this again.”
Michael frowned. Dante’s rude tone irritated him, but Michael also found himself annoyed Dante refused to share the details of his generous gift to the daemon. No matter, Michael would get a full breakdown of events from Dion. Michael switched the subject, ready to inquire into the whereabouts of the wraith, when the door to the chamber flew open and an immortal burst inside.
“Bastien?” Honor rose to stare at the newcomer. Covered in sweat, chest heaving, Bastien appeared as if he ran for miles. Honor approached Bastien and Michael bit back a possessive growl. “What happened to you?”
Frantic and wild-eyed, Bastien scanned the room until his unusual gray-green gaze landed on Michael. “Archangel,” Bastien said, anguish evident in his voice. “The village, it’s… it’s gone.”
Michael closed the space in two large strides to lean over Bastien. Bastien cringed back as Michael gave the Watcher an intimidating scowl. “What do you mean, gone?” Needing his soulmate closer, Michael wrapped an arm around Honor and tugged her until her back pressed against his front.
Protect what is mine echoed through Michael’s head, the cacophony as loud as if an entire flight of angels shouted in his ears.
Bastien peered around Michael’s enormous bulk to scan the shaken faces of the others before returning his attention to Michael. “Um… there was an earthquake, only within the boundaries of the village, then fires. Big fires. Wind, s-strong winds… The flames, they spread quickly… I-I’m sorry.” Bastien swallowed and cast his gaze downward. “It… It was as if the entire Underworld opened to unleash destruction upon the land. The human castle is in ruins. T-their homes as well.”
Fear took root deep inside Michael’s gut. “What of the humans?”
Bastien shook his head and glanced at Michael, the Watcher’s eyes wet. “D-dead.”
“Dead,” Michael repeated. He tightened his grip on Honor. The sensation of peace and calm flowing from his soulmate the only thing keeping him sane. Michael was literally a heartbeat away from exploding in a fit of rage and frustration. “All of them?”
“Y-yes.” Bastien shrank into himself, fearing Michael’s fury.
“Michael.” Honor’s soft voice floated up to Michael’s ears whilst she wiggled in his arms until he found himself staring down into his soulmate’s rich cinnamon colored eyes. A gentle hand caressed Michael’s stiff jaw and he suppressed a shudder at his dulcedo’s loving touch. “Take not your anger out on the messenger.”
Michael’s eyes fluttered closed and he pushed his face into Honor’s hand, seeking the warmth and comfort. More relaxing waves pulsed across their union and Michael turned his gaze inward to focus on the glowing blue and lilac strands that connected their souls. Contentment bathed his stressed mind, body, and soul. Muscles unclenched, tendons relaxed, and the painful throbbing in a blood vessel at Michael’s temple diminished.
“Gratia, my love,” Michael said, staring into the deep brown eyes he had come to know so well. With a deep breath, Michael adjusted his stance and curled Honor protectively into his side, tucked under his arm. Exactly where she belonged, forever if he had anything to say about it, and by the way Honor nuzzled against Michael’s chest and rested a hand on his abs, he assumed she had no quarrel with that.
“Apologies, Watcher. My thanks for bringing this to me.” Bastien gave Michael a cautious glance, as if waiting for Michael’s rage to resurface. Irritation niggling at his insides, Michael dismissed Bastien before he did something his lover couldn’t stop, “You have done your duty and may take your leave.”
Bastien looked visibly relieved, his tense body slumping, and without another word, he dematerialized. Bastien’s reaction would have been humorous were the situation not so dire.
Another crisis, and if the Watcher was correct, an epic failure on Michael’s part.
There would be no time to relax with his mate. Michael was an Archangel and the Protector of the Earthly plane. Keeping his arm in its rightly place around Honor’s shoulders, Michael turned to the Guard, all of whom were either speechless or exchanging nervous words.
“As I’m sure you overheard, it appears the village of Eastlake Falls is gone. I can only assume the escaped Horsemen to be the perpetrator.” The volume of the conversations escalated along with the tension in the air. Despite Honor’s peaceful thoughts, Michael shouted, “Quiet!”
The harsh bark brought everyone in the hall to an abrupt halt. A fleeting pulse of encouragement came from his mate. Exactly what Michael needed to remain calm. Even in times of extreme stress, Honor kept him levelheaded. With her at his side, Michael maintained enough control to speak at a reasonable volume and steady pace without boiling over.
The Fates did well in choosing her. Honor is perfect for me.
“We must needs to go to the village. You four,” Michael pointed to two angelen and two sancten, “take the eastern farmlands. You,” he gestured to three others. “Take the north. Donovan, Tony, and Joan shall accompany me to the village center. The rest of you head to the castle and the most populated areas. Look for any clues as to which Horseman we are dealing with.”
As his Guard dematerialized to their various locations, Michael turned to face Honor. She placed her palms on his chest and tilted her head back. Michael fell into a trance, taken with everything about his soulmate, the thick black lashes surrounding eyes that overflowed with love. Love for him. Her sweet scent as it wound its way around Michael’s body to assault his senses. The warmth of her hands sinking through his shirt to heat up his skin. Had it not been for the bloody Horseman, Michael would take his dulcedo straight back to his bed and plunge deep inside her tight, wet heat, never to come out again.
“Stay with me?” Michael whispered as he brushed a gentle kiss on Honor’s soft lips and swiped his tongue across the seam. Her sweet flavor burst upon his taste buds and his cock gave a valiant effort at joining the party. But Michael’s thoughts were too scattered, and profound grief threatening to overwhelm him from his failure to protect the village. As alluring and addictive as Michael found Honor, intimacy wasn’t on the table.
“Don’t worry. I shall never leave your side,” Honor murmured against his lips.
Michael pulled her close and buried his nose in her hair. “Fates, I love you so much.”
“I love you, too,” he heard her say right as they dematerialized.