Chapter Twenty-Three
Angel’s laughter bounced off the high ceilings and whitewashed walls, relentless, unyielding.
She hadn’t stopped talking since our reunion, describing the beach, the wild wind thick with sand, this house.
Every tiny detail spilled from her lips in a rush that left no room for silence, no room for me.
It had been grounding at first, almost soothing.
But after three days, her chatter scraped against the raw edges of me.
It was becoming a constant reminder of everything I couldn’t say, couldn’t fix, couldn’t face.
Grief, rage, and speculation churned in my chest, a storm growing heavier with every passing hour.
I knew why. I hadn’t seen Adam. He’d left me alone, yet I was never truly alone. Angel was there, filling the silence, filling the void, a constant presence that made the absence of him feel sharper, more acute, almost unbearable.
I felt hollow and brimming with tension at the same time, a taut wire ready to snap. Every laugh, every word from Angel’s lips, was a reminder that I couldn’t breathe until I confronted him, until I saw him again.
I sat on the edge of Angel’s bed, the sunlight fading outside her windows and my wings folded tightly against my back under my borrowed cream and lilac-floral sundress.
My eyes were fixed on my lap as my thoughts churned endlessly inside my head.
It was only when someone rapped at the door that I was jerked back to the present.
Angel trotted to open it. She was probably relieved to find something else to do beside fill the air with nervous chatter. I winced. The novelty of my return had probably worn off for her too now. A part of her might even wish Adam hadn’t brought me back.
When had I become this bitter, this small?
A sly whisper filled my head. When Adam chose to ignore you.
“Bella?” Angel’s voice fell to a hush after she opened the door. “It’s the doctor.”
He entered carefully, his white coat reminding me of the scientists at the facility. I shook off the thought, focusing instead on his graying blond hair that he’d swept back from his face, his kind blue eyes that analyzed me before settling on Angel.
He smiled, a nod of acknowledgment that was softer in the way he looked at her.
More than professional. Then his attention returned to me.
“Let’s see how you’re doing,” he murmured, motioning for me to lie back.
His touch was gentle, practiced as he ran his blunt fingers over me.
“I was told one of your eyes had closed. It looks fine now.”
I shrugged, “I heal fast.”
How many times had I said that in my life?
I sat before he checked my blood pressure, then my temperature. He clucked his tongue, approval deepening his voice. “You certainly do.”
He glanced up at Angel, his eyes brightening before meeting mine once more. “I’ll let Adam know you’re fine. His injuries were quite extensive, and will take longer to heal. But he’s headstrong and won’t admit when he’s in pain, even when it’s written all over him.”
I stiffened at his name. Adam had always been headstrong. But he was also full-blooded human—mortal and far from bulletproof.
Angel leaned over me, brushing a damp strand of hair from my face. “All that matters is that you’re alive,” she murmured, her voice warm, almost wistful. “And that’s all because of Adam.”
I didn’t answer. My stomach twisted at her words, my wings tensing against my back. Because yes, it was because of Adam—but that pull, tangled and raw, was just too dangerous to examine.
Angel’s gaze flicked to the tightening of my wings beneath my dress. She touched the outer edge of one wing through the fabric. “I can see what you’ve been trying to hide in these,” she whispered, soft but knowing. “And in the way you look at him, like he’s your nightmare and your salvation.”
My wings hugged my back even tighter. Because she was right. A shiver ran through me, fear and longing knotting together in my chest. How could she see me so clearly, when I barely understood myself?
Angel’s eyes softened. “Bella...” Her voice was gentle but insistent. “You love him. You always have. I’m not blind.”
I wanted to speak. To deny it. But my throat burned, and the words died on my tongue. Because that undeniable tug between Adam and I had always been there, something tangible and real I’d tried to bury again and again.
Angel leaned closer, almost conspiratorial, a soft smile playing at her lips. “It’s okay. You don’t have to hide it from me, or from yourself.”
I swallowed, but the knot in my chest didn’t loosen. My wings twitched, restless and anxious, echoing the words I refused to speak.
Her gaze lingered, gentle but piercing. “It’s not shameful to love him,” she said softly. “You deserve to feel that way. And who better to love you than the man who understands you completely?”
I was saved from answering when another knock sounded at the door.
The doctor cleared his throat, as though the sound had ended his eavesdropping just as effectively as it had ended my epiphany. “Allow me,” he said kindly, moving to answer it.
He opened the door, then turned back to face me. “Bella, one of Adam’s security is here to escort you to Adam’s suite of rooms.”
I blinked. I had never stepped inside his private rooms. The thought fired equal parts fear and anticipation through me. It was as if crossing that threshold might shatter the walls we’d built around ourselves, exposing truths we’d both tried to keep hidden.
When I’d been his asset, I’d been separated from his real life. Despite the fact we were now on more equal footing, this was still his world. His rules. His space. His control. Just thinking about being there with him made my heart pound.
Angel sighed softly, her wings quivering now.
“I hope you realize how much you deserve a man who can truly handle you. Someone who can see what makes you, you—wings and all—and still wants to stand beside you. Someone who’ll appreciate every part of you: the chaos, the scars, the strength. Everything.”
The doctor’s gaze flicked to her, gentle but steady. “You’re right,” he said softly. “And you deserve that too, Angel. Someone who sees you...really sees you. Someone like me.”
Her lips curved into a small, thoughtful smile. She straightened slightly, as if reassured. “Maybe,” she murmured, though the warmth in her eyes made it clear she’d taken him seriously.
I processed the moment between them, something bittersweet twisting inside me. Adam’s security guard nodded pointedly at me, his posture rigid but unobtrusive.
It was time to go.
I winked at Angel, then slipped past the doctor still hovering in the doorway. A smile pulled at my mouth. Even if my feelings were doomed, I clung to the hope that Angel might get her happily ever after.
My heels clicked along the polished corridor, the guard’s boots echoing dully. I inhaled the faint scent of beeswax and warm wood, my superior hearing picking up the hum of a hidden air conditioner somewhere beyond the walls, the tight rhythm of my breath.
Shadows darkened the leaves and branches of the trees through the windows to one side, the brightly-lit assets in the niches on the other somehow mocking me, reminding me of my place.
The door to what I assumed was Adam’s suite loomed ahead. The guard gave a brief rap on the wood, then opened it before stepping aside, waiting for me to enter Adam’s domain.
I hesitated for the briefest moment, feeling the weight of every unspoken word between us, every withheld action. Then, with a deep inhale, I stepped forward, crossing the threshold into his private world.
For a moment, I looked at everything but Adam. I needed the extra time to compose myself, to act poised and pretend I was okay.
A soft fire burned in the hearth—it was much cooler up in the treed mountains—its glow licking gold across the polished wooden floorboards.
The table near the window was set for two, simple dishes along with a bottle of chilled wine.
My nose twitched at the faint aroma of roasted meat, a medley of vegetables and crusty herb bread.
Though the air inside was warmed by the fire, the atmosphere was heavier somehow, as though it carried Adam’s presence in every corner. My anticipation stretched tighter, my every nerve alert as my heartbeat echoed in my ears.
So much for staying calm and in control. Stepping into his suite of rooms really had changed everything between us.
He stood by the table, one hand resting against his ribs where the bandage had been.
Though he was a little leaner, his tailored navy suit slightly looser, he looked better.
His white dress shirt highlighted the color that had returned to his skin, the sharp edges of his exhaustion smoothed out.
But his movements were still careful, controlled.
He nodded at his guard, who immediately pulled the door shut behind us.
Adam refocused on me. “Sit,” he said softly, pulling out a chair for me.
I obeyed, crossing to the table before I took the proffered seat. I was suddenly breathless and more than a little dizzy. Everything seemed so surreal, like I’d stepped into some magical fairytale I didn’t want to end.
He took the seat opposite me, his expression unreadable in the firelight. “How are you feeling?”
I traced the rim of my glass with one finger. “Probably better than you are.”
His mouth curved faintly, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You might be right.”
For a heartbeat, neither of us spoke, the silence stretching until it felt like an elastic band about to snap.
Then his gaze met mine, steady and unwavering. “How are you feeling inside?” he asked. “I’m guessing you want to know about your parents.”
My throat tightened, though a part of me was relieved he wanted to get straight to the point. “Yes. But I only want the truth. No more lies.”