15. Evelyn
15
Evelyn
T he wind rushed past me as I soared through the night sky, my fairy wings fluttering determinedly behind me. Beside me, Rafe’s massive white wings glided effortlessly, their feathers catching the moon’s silver glow.
He was breathtaking.
“Race you to that clearing!” I called, pointing to a grassy patch below.
Rafe’s lips curved into a competitive grin. “You’re on!”
We dove toward the ground, laughter trailing behind us as we weaved through the trees. My wings strained, fluttering with all the determination they could muster, but Rafe landed a heartbeat before me.
“Not fair,” I huffed, though my tone was playful. “Your wings are twice my wings’ size.”
He chuckled, brushing stray leaves from his hair. “And faster. But don’t worry—I may have thrown the first race back at the Luminary Yuletide.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You what ?!”
Rafe laughed, the sound warm and unrepentant.
This was exactly what I needed—just the two of us, away from everything, the stars above, and no urgent responsibilities pulling at me for a few precious hours.
“So,” Rafe said, glancing around the clearing, his wings tucked neatly behind him. “What’s the plan for tonight?”
I grinned mischievously. “Oh, I’ve got everything we need for a late-evening picnic.”
His brow furrowed slightly. “I didn’t see you carrying anything. Did we forget the basket at the mansion?”
I smirked, reaching for my magically enhanced sword sheath. I pulled out a blanket from it, followed by some cans of sparkling apple cider, wedges of cheese, charcuterie, freshly baked bread, strawberries, and candles.
Rafe blinked, his mouth falling open. “Okay, I need an explanation.”
I laughed as I spread the blanket. “Lucien brewed an expansion potion for me. Pretty nifty, right? I could probably smuggle an entire kitchen in here if I wanted to.”
Shaking his head, Rafe laughed.
We settled onto the blanket, the stars above. A sharp twinge ran down my neck as I reached for the brie, making me wince.
“You okay?” Rafe asked, his tone laced with concern.
“Yeah,” I said, rubbing the base of my neck. “I guess I’m still getting used to flying. These wings are incredible, but they work out muscles I didn’t even know existed.”
His expression softened. “Turn around.”
I did as he asked, folding my wings carefully. His hands found the base of my wings, and he kneaded the muscles with a practiced touch.
“You’ve got a lot of tension here,” he murmured. “Your wings connect through several muscle groups, and if you’re not careful, you’ll strain them. But don’t worry—I’ve got you.”
His fingers worked magic, easing the tension and drawing a sigh of relief.
“How’s that feel?” he asked after a moment of pure bliss.
“Like heaven,” I murmured, my eyes half-closed. “You’ve got angel hands.”
Rafe chuckled, his warm breath brushing my ear. “There’s a lot more to wing care than this. You must be careful around the more sensitive areas—especially near the joints. And, uh, some zones are…well, let’s just say easily stimulated .”
I snorted, remembering the first time Chad had accidentally brushed my wings. “Let’s save the wing kama sutra for another day, okay?”
Rafe laughed softly, bringing my finger to his mouth in a tender kiss. His gaze lingered on me, the amusement in his eyes giving way to something softer.
I tilted my head, studying him for a moment. “You know what I love about you?”
He arched a brow. “Besides my incredible wing massages?”
I smiled. “You hum when you’re happy. It’s very faint—almost indiscernible. Sometimes it’s soft, other times it’s some terrible pop song Chad got stuck in your head.”
His brows lifted in surprise. “I do not.”
“You do.” I traced my fingers lightly over his wrist, feeling his pulse beneath my touch. “And you did it just now.”
Rafe exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “You really notice that?”
I squeezed his hand. “Of course I do.”
He brought my finger to his mouth again, pressing a tender kiss against it. “Most people just see an angel. But you… you see me.”
The tenderness in his voice made my heart ache in the best way. “That’s because you are more than just an angel, Rafe. You’re kind, patient, a healer, an amazing artist, a true friend. And you’re mine.”
The depth of emotion in his eyes held me captive, and I leaned in, pressing my lips to his.
The kiss was soft and unhurried, every movement deliberate. I loved how Rafe kissed me—how he savored every brush of our tongues, every quiet moan that slipped from me, every shared breath. It was sensual and magical like time had paused just for us.
When we finally broke apart, I rested my forehead against his, breathless.
My stomach growled, breaking the silence, and we both laughed.
“I guess we should eat,” I said, sitting up and reaching for the food.
Rafe lit the candles, and their soft glow added a romantic touch to our makeshift picnic.
“Tell me something I don’t know about you,” I asked.
Rafe paused, thinking. “Did you know that I used to play the harp?”
I raised an eyebrow. The harp? That’s both unexpected…and yet totally on brand for an angel.
He laughed a bit sheepishly. “It’s mandatory for angels to learn to play an instrument as a child. I wanted to learn the guitar, but my mother thought the harp would suit me better.”
“Can you still play?”
“A little. It’s been years, but I could probably pluck out a tune or two.”
“I’d love to hear you play sometime.”
He smiled a soft and genuine expression. “Maybe I’ll serenade you one day.”
“I’d love that,” I said, then smirked. “What about Zade? What instrument did he get stuck with?”
Rafe chuckled. “The xylophone.”
I barely suppressed a snort. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. He wanted to play the drums, but Mom insisted. To this day, I have no idea how she convinced him.”
I shook my head, grinning. “That’s an image I never expected.”
He pulled me close, wrapping his arms and wings around me. We lay back on the blanket, gazing at the endless expanse of stars above.
“You know,” Rafe said after a long, comfortable silence. “I used to be afraid of the night. As a child, I thought the darkness would swallow me whole.”
I looked up at him, surprised. “Really?”
He smiled wistfully. “Yeah. It wasn’t until Zade took me flying one night and showed me the stars that I realized the night had its own kind of beauty. The darkness isn’t something to fear; it’s a canvas for the light.”
His words lingered. I could see the boy he once was, vulnerable and unsure, making me love him even more.
I squeezed his hand. “I wish I could’ve been there to see that moment.”
“Did you have any fears as a child?” he asked softly.
I thought for a moment, staring up at the sky. “Not really. I was a pretty fearless kid. However, if I had to pick something, it would be dark. But it never lasted long. I always kept a book and a flashlight nearby.”
He nodded, like he could picture me as a little girl, stubbornly reading under the covers.
“I used to love storms,” I continued. “The way the lightning would crack open the sky, and the thunder would rattle the windows. Maybe it was my lineage affinity, even then, drawn to the energy in the air.”
“Storms, huh? Most children would be terrified.”
“Yeah, I guess I was a weird kid,” I said, grinning. “There was something comforting in the chaos of it all. My lineage affinity was most likely drawn to the energy in the sky.”
Rafe stroked my hair, his touch gentle and thoughtful. He sighed a content, peaceful sound. “Sometimes I think we’re like the stars. Even when we’re surrounded by darkness, we can still shine.”
As we lay there, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. All thoughts faded away, leaving only this perfect moment under the stars.
The night slipped away far too quickly, and before I knew it, we were heading back home.
A mouthwatering aroma hit me as we stepped into the mansion. “Do you smell that?” I asked Rafe.
He nodded, grinning. “Smells like Lucien’s stress-baking again.”
Following my nose to the kitchen, I found Lucien surrounded by what had to be five batches of cookies—all my favorites.
“Oh my god,” I gasped, reaching for a still-warm chocolate chip cookie. “These look and smell amazing!”
I blew on it before taking a bite, the rich, buttery dough melting on my tongue, gooey chocolate coating my taste buds. A delighted hum escaped me. “They taste as good as they look!”
Lucien watched me carefully. " I haven’t had a chance to taste them yet, but I’m glad they turned out okay. It’s been a while since I tried this recipe.”
“Are you opening a bakery or something?” I teased, grabbing another.
Lucien frowned and waved a hand dismissively. “Hardly. Just felt like baking.”
“Well, I’m not complaining,” I said, shoving another cookie into my mouth.
Rafe, already on his third cookie, swallowed and patted Lucien on the back. “These are excellent.”
I sighed happily. “Thanks, Lucien. These are great. I’m off to bed.” I turned to Rafe, smiling. “Thanks for tonight. It was perfect.”
Rafe’s gaze warmed as he stepped closer, wrapping me in a brief hug. “Anytime, Evelyn.”
“Actually, Evelyn, may I have a word?” Lucien asked.
Rafe squeezed my shoulder. “I’ll leave you two to chat,” he said, kissing my cheek quickly before heading to bed.
I turned back to Lucien, grabbing another cookie ready to joke about his domestic streak. But the look in his eyes stopped me.
“Evelyn,” he began, his voice unusually hesitant. “There’s something I need to tell you. I…I haven’t been entirely truthful with you.”
My stomach dipped. “What do you mean?”
Instead of answering, Lucien grabbed a glass and poured me some milk, sliding it toward me.
“You might want to sit down for this,” he said, his usual sharpness replaced with something almost…uncertain.
Lucien took a deep breath as if steeling himself. “You’re my fated mate, Evelyn.” He held my gaze, the words landing with a weight I wasn’t prepared for. “You’re mine.”
I froze, a cookie halfway to my mouth. A tangle of emotions surged through me—relief, anger, confusion, hurt. “I-I… w-what?” I stammered. “But you said you weren’t. Why lie?”
“Because I’m a stubborn, grumpy bastard who thought his position at the Academy mattered more than my happiness. Because I was scared. Take your pick.” His expression twisted with regret. “I was wrong.”
I set the cookie down, my appetite gone. “Wrong?” I echoed, my voice sharp. “Do you have any idea what that did to me? How much I doubted what I felt.”
Lucien stepped closer. “When you were gone for that year, I realized how much of a coward I’d been. I was losing my mind. I promised myself that if you came back—because I couldn’t accept a world without you—I wouldn’t let anything get in the way. Not my position, not our age difference, nothing. You are mine, Evelyn, and I’m never letting you go.”
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, anger and relief battling for dominance.
Lucien’s jaw tightened. “I was an ass,” he admitted, his voice rough. “I thought I was protecting you. That if I stayed away, it would spare you from…from me. But I see now that all I did was lie to myself. And to you, my mate.” He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t expect you to forgive me. But I need you to know—I regret every second I spent pushing you away. And I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you let me.”
I let out a short, bitter laugh. “You thought you were protecting me? Did you ever stop to think what it was like for me? Feeling that pull, knowing something was missing, and having you look me in the eye and tell me it wasn’t real?”
Lucien flinched, and for once, he didn’t have a sharp retort.
The silence stretched. My chest ached from anger, betrayal…and maybe a bit of relief. Slowly, I reached for the cookie, needing something to keep my hands busy.
“You broke my trust, Lucien. You made me doubt myself.”
“I know,” he said, stepping closer. Too close.
I held up a hand, stopping him in his tracks.
“Words are nice. But you don’t get to undo what you did with a few regrets and a plate of cookies. You want me to trust you again?” I met his gaze. “Then earn it.”
Lucien exhaled sharply, his shoulders dropping. “I will.”
I watched him for a long moment, searching his face and reading the weight in his eyes. He looked…wrecked.
I sighed, shaking my head. “For a smart guy, you’re pretty damn dumb sometimes.”
His lips twitched—the ghost of a smile. “I deserve that.”
“You deserve worse,” I shot back, though my voice had no real venom. The anger was still there, but it was melting into something else—something softer, something I wasn’t ready to name.
Lucien’s throat bobbed. He looked like he wanted to touch me and was waiting for permission.
I let him wait.
Then, finally, I let out a breath and said, “I expect groveling. And more baking. A lot more baking.”
Lucien’s eyes flickered with something—relief, hope. “Done. And I’ll work every day to earn that trust back. But please, Evelyn—don’t doubt what I feel for you. You’re my mate. You’re everything to me.”
For a moment, I just looked at him, my heart racing. Then I opened my arms. “Come here, you idiot.”
Lucien didn’t hesitate. He stepped into my embrace, his arms wrapping tightly around me. A wave of relief washed over me as I pressed my face against his chest.
“Don’t think you’re forgiven because you’re not,” I mumbled into his shirt.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he murmured, his hold tightening as if he never wanted to let go.