Chapter Two
The following morning, Cody kept poking the air around him, unsettled from last night and unsure if it even happened. He’d been lost, desperate, and fearing he would die in the forest because the app on his phone decided it was done for the night.
Too late, he realized the compass had led him in the wrong direction. By then, he was turned around.
He thought he’d found help, but instead… He wasn’t really sure what he’d come across. The only thing he knew for certain was how freaking gorgeous the jerk was. Cody’d had an overwhelming need to curl his fingers in the man’s long, flowing, light blonde hair with darker highlights, to pull him close and kiss him. And that bronzed body… Jesus.
If the guy was even real. The jury was still out on that.
“Are you popping imaginary bubbles?”
Marissa, the receptionist at Paws & Claws Vet Clinic asked, her auburn brows pulled together. “You’ve been poking at the air since you got to work.”
Cody froze mid-poke, immediately wishing for a hole to crawl into. “Imaginary bubbles?”
he repeated, trying for nonchalance and failing miserably.
“You haven’t heard?”
Zayde Martinez, the other vet tech, chimed in with a grin. He was Cody’s height and build, but his hair was a nice shade of brunet, and his eyes were green. “It’s all the rage.”
Marissa folded her arms, tilting her head toward Zayde. “Oh, this should be good. Do tell.”
Zayde turned Cody’s air-poking into a full-on performance. “It’s the latest workout craze,”
he announced, thrusting a hip to the side while poking at imaginary bubbles. “Strengthens your core and your delts. Very exclusive.”
Marissa quirked her lips. “Exclusive, huh? And here I thought you just needed an exorcist.”
Cody tried not to laugh but failed. “You’re giving me a run for my money, Zayde.”
Zayde winked at him before heading down the hallway, arms still twirling dramatically and kicking out his legs like he was in a conga line.
“There as some dances I will never understand.”
Marissa shook her head. “Just do us all a favor and don’t accidently poke someone’s eye out.”
She squinted at him then wiggled her nose, letting him know she was only teasing him.
Cody glanced down the hallway where Zayde had disappeared, his lips twitching with amusement despite himself. “I owe him for that,”
he muttered under his breath. Cover or not, Zayde had turned it into a full-blown production.
Marissa leaned her elbows on the reception desk, her green eyes narrowing. “So, what’s the real story, McGillis? You’re not usually this… spacey. Did you forget your morning coffee or something? Don’t tell me you’re already losing your mind—it’s only your third week here.”
Cody let out a forced laugh and shook his head. “It’s nothing. I was just…thinking about something weird that happened last night.”
Which wasn’t a complete lie.
Marissa tilted her head. “Weird how? Coworker levels of weird?”
She pointed her thumb toward the hallway where Zayde had gone. “Because I’d call that dancing felony-level weird.”
“Not that kind of strange.”
Cody crossed his arms and leaned against the counter. He tried to appear nonchalant, but he could feel her curiosity burning into him. “Just… I got lost in the woods, stupid app on my phone, and things got a little creepy.”
Marissa leaned forward, her brows furrowed. “Creepy? Like, someone-following-you creepy?”
Not someone. Some thing. Cody’s neck prickled at the memory, like an itch he couldn’t quite scratch. The sensation from last night lingered even now, as if he wasn’t as alone as he thought. But that was insane. Wasn’t it?
“Nothing that bad,”
he lied. “Probably just my imagination playing tricks on me.”
She didn’t seem convinced, but thankfully she didn’t press further. “Well, next time you wander into the woods alone, maybe carry pepper spray. Or a better phone.”
“Noted,”
Cody said with a wry smile, pushing away from the counter. “I’ve got to finish checking the inventory list. You good here?”
“I’m fine, but I’m not the one poking ghosts,”
she teased, turning her attention back to her computer.
He chuckled and headed away, shoving his hands into his pockets. His shoes squeaked faintly against the linoleum floor as he walked, and he focused on the mundane sound, hoping it would ground him.
It should have, but that itch was back, creeping up his spine and making him glance over his shoulder. The hallway was empty. Silent. But the air felt heavier somehow, like the moment before a thunderstorm when everything seemed charged with an invisible energy.
“Get a grip, buddy,”
he muttered under his breath, yanking open the supply closet door. “You’re just paranoid after last night. Nothing’s here. It’s just your—”
His words faltered.
The hair on his arms stood on end, goosebumps prickling along his skin. Something was here. It wasn’t a sound or a movement. It was a presence, an undeniable awareness pressing against him like a hand hovering just shy of his shoulder.
“Hello?”
Cody called out, his voice echoing in the small room.
No answer. Of course there wasn’t. Why would there be?
Still, his heart picked up speed, each beat thudding louder in his ears. He swallowed hard and stepped back, scanning the empty hallway again.
If it was real, whatever “it”
was, it wasn’t human. He knew that much. But what the hell else could it be?
Cody peeked into the reception area, stealing a quick glance at Marissa to make sure she wasn’t watching him. Zayde was still MIA, probably off perfecting his conga line routine.
Good. He needed a minute to get his thoughts in order without anyone calling him out for acting weird. Again.
Leaning against the doorframe, he ran a hand through his messy red hair. God, he hated the color, like he needed more reasons to make him stick out.
With a sigh, Cody muttered, “I really am losing it.”
But no matter how many times he told himself that, the sensation of being watched wouldn’t go away. It wasn’t menacing, not exactly, but it was unnerving. Like something lingering just beyond his peripheral vision, always out of sight.
His thoughts flickered back to last night and the guy he’d met in the woods. If it even happened . Cody was still doubting his sanity and wasn’t sure what to think. His memory of the encounter was too sharp to be a dream but too bizarre to feel real. And yet…
“Was it you?”
he asked softly, glancing around the empty hallway like an idiot. “Are you here now?”
Silence answered him, as expected.
Cody snorted and shook his head, pushing off the doorframe. “Get a grip. Next, you’ll be asking your coffee mug for advice.”
Deciding to do the supply list later, he turned toward the clinic rooms, still needing to check on a young tabby they’d taken in yesterday. A scrawny thing with a meow loud enough to rattle glass and a name ridiculous enough to make him cringe.
“Okay, Mr. Puddlefuzz,”
Cody muttered under his breath, his lips twitching as he entered the room. “Let’s see how you’re doing.”
The cat greeted him with an ear-piercing yowl, launching itself against the side of the cage like a furry missile.
“Whoa, okay!”
He laughed quietly, opening the cage just enough to reach in. “Calm down, psycho cat. I’m not here to stage a jailbreak.”
The tabby immediately started batting at his fingers, claws sheathed but paw insistent. Cody wiggled his hand playfully, smirking as the little troublemaker leapt and pounced like he was fending off a dire threat.
“You’re ridiculous,”
Cody murmured, grabbing a feathered toy from the nearby counter. “And your name is a crime against humanity.”
He dangled the toy in front of the cat, watching as Mr. Puddlefuzz swiped at it with gusto. For a moment, Cody forgot about the weirdness of last night. He even forgot about his own unease and about the way his hair made him stand out like a neon sign.
It wasn’t until the back of his neck prickled again that the moment shattered.
He froze, the toy still in his hand as his pulse picked up speed. Slowly, he turned his head, scanning the room.
There it was again. That feeling…
It had to be him. The guy. The…whatever he was.
Cody cleared his throat, speaking softly as if the words might draw someone, or something, out. “If you’re here, I’d really appreciate you not creeping around like some horror movie villain.”
Mr. Puddlefuzz batted the toy one last time before flopping dramatically onto his side, as if giving Cody his approval to confront his apparent insanity.
Setting the toy aside, he couldn’t shake the thought that maybe he wasn’t alone. And maybe, just maybe, that guy from last night wasn’t as imaginary as he wanted to believe.
You just want him to be real because he’s gorgeous.
No. He wanted the guy, whatever he was, to be real to prove to himself he wasn’t going completely insane.
* * * *
As hard as he tried, Raziel hadn’t been able to stay away.
Not after last night, not after the rush of warmth in his arms.
He leaned against the wall inside the veterinary clinic, his invisible form blending seamlessly with his surroundings.
The faint hum of life within the building buzzed around him—chattering voices, the scrape of shoes on linoleum, and Cody’s laugh, its lightness cutting through the heavy weight in Raziel’s chest, even though he’d never admit that to anyone.
Cody was hunched over a wiry orange tabby with a mix of exasperation and humor.
His mate’s nose—freckles scattered across the bridge of it like constellations on pale skin—wrinkled as the cat swatted at him like it had a vendetta.
Raziel was still puzzled at how Cody felt him whenever he was near.
Just this morning, his mate had sensed him, had quietly called out to him a few times, but then mumbled about losing his mind when he received no response.
Raziel shouldn’t have been here to begin with, had told himself for the hundredth time to flash away, but couldn’t bring himself to leave.
Observing the human from the shadows had become Raziel’s new addiction.
Cody was his mate, even though the human didn’t know it, and he was fascinated by him.
Raziel’s gaze was fixated on him, drawn to the way the fluorescent light caught his hair, turning the red strands into molten fire against the cool tones of the sterile room.
His mate ran a hand through it, an unconscious action that stirred something profound within Raziel.
He’s beautiful.
The thought came unbidden, a quiet truth he couldn’t deny.
“ Come here, Mr. Puddlefuzz,”
his mate cooed, the ridiculous name making Raziel’s lips twitch. The feline hesitated before slinking forward, earning Cody’s quiet chuckle.
Each quiet gesture, every soft word, spoke of a tenderness Raziel couldn’t fully comprehend, leaving him to grapple with the realization of just how broken he really was.
The cat purred loudly as Cody tucked it into his arms, stroking its fur. “See? Not so scary when you let someone in.”
He murmured the words absently, and Raziel stiffened at the unintended jab. His mate didn’t know he was being overheard, but the truth of those words struck like a lash. Raziel hadn’t let anyone in, not truly, ever. The cost of doing so was too high to pay.
But in that moment, he wished he was the cat, wished it was him being cuddled and petted, instead of always feeling a cruel hand. Although the lovers he’d taken over his existence hadn’t hurt him, they’d only been interested in a night of carnal pleasure.
Like you would’ve let them give you more. You’re so closed off, not even a sledgehammer wrapped in barbed wire could crack the armor welded to your worthless soul.
Raziel blinked, his attention drawn back to his mate when the cat lunged at Cody again, this time batting at his sleeve with more enthusiasm than menace. Raziel couldn’t stop the corner of his mouth from quirking upward. The human’s irritation was as endearing as it was amusing.
“Seriously?”
Cody muttered, grabbing a feathered toy from the counter. He waved it at the cat, who instantly turned its full attention to the fluttering lure. “Oh, so now you’re a team player. Make up your mind. Are we friends or not?”
There was something in the way his mate moved, his easy affection for even the most difficult animals, that drew Raziel closer than he should’ve allowed himself to get.
His fingers ached to brush against that fiery hair once more, to feel the pulse of life thrumming just beneath the guy’s skin. He reached out, still invisible but aching for even the briefest contact, one that was gentle and not out to leave behind scars.
Cody turned abruptly, his gaze narrowing as if he could see Raziel through sheer force of will.
“All right,”
he said aloud, clearly more to himself than anyone else. “If you’re real and standing there, this is the part where you say something and stop freaking me out.”
Raziel was tempted to respond but bit back the urge, like he had been doing all morning. As badly as he wanted to, revealing himself was just too dangerous. He had only done it last night because… he’d been desperate for someone to see him. Not someone. Cody. Even though they could never be together, a part of him wanted his mate to know he existed.
Cody groaned, muttering, “You’ve gotta stop thinking he’s real. Last night didn’t happen, and you can’t keep talking to thin air like it’s perfectly normal behavior. Yep. Totally sane.”
The corners of Raziel’s mouth twitched. Maybe it wasn’t the worst thing, watching this human unravel just a little. After all, the guy had called him a jerk last night. Justifiable, but still…
Cody turned on his heel, his shoes scuffing as he stalked back toward the main area of the clinic. “Zayde better not have lunch plans,”
he muttered. “If I sit alone, I’ll probably start talking to my sandwich next.”
Raziel followed silently, keeping a deliberate distance. He shouldn’t have lingered this long. But watching Cody—seeing the way his mate handled confusion and fear with sarcasm and stubbornness—kept him rooted in place.
Until an electrical charge hummed against Raziel’s skin. His body went rigid, every muscle tensing as the familiar hum of an angelic presence registered like a lightning strike through his senses.
Not here .
The thought was immediate, fierce. He stepped back instinctively, his eyes narrowing as he searched for any sign of movement.
Bashar? Or one of his zealots? It didn’t matter. Any angel nearby was a threat, and he couldn’t risk being discovered. Not with his mate a few feet away.
With a reluctant glance at Cody, Raziel vanished, the air snapping cold in his wake.
The world warped around him, shifting in blinding flashes as he leaped through time and space. The sensation was disorienting, like being hurled through a storm of glass shards.
When he finally came to a halt, the ache in his chest intensified, the air still humming faintly from his flash.
“I hate jumping.”
The concealment potion he’d drunk earlier churned bitterly in his stomach. Maybe the unseelie really was trying to poison him.
His surroundings solidified into the quiet familiarity of Ethan’s home. His son’s giggles, lighter and sweeter than Cody’s, rang out, clear and bright even through the thick walls. Ethan’s laughter carried more power than Raziel wanted to admit—a grounding force in a world constantly trying to fuck him over.
Leaning against the nearest wall, he exhaled shakily, waiting for the dizziness to pass. Then he inched closer to the window, his movements silent as he peered inside. This is what my life has been reduced to. Running from a sociopath and creeping around my mate and son just to catch glimpses of them.
Ethan squirmed in Stewart’s lap, his small body a flurry of energy. His bright green eyes, so much like Raziel’s own, were wide with excitement, the stuffed bear sitting on the kitchen table in front of him. The sight of Ethan on his uncle’s lap brought an ache to Raziel’s chest, a painful reminder that he may never be able to do the same.
His feelings might’ve been a tangled mess, too confusing to figure out, but he wished to hell he was numb to the anguish that crushed him every time he wanted to touch or hold his mate or son.
Stewart ran a hand through his blond hair, exhaling with exaggerated patience as the toddler wiggled again. “All right, tater tot, it’s nap time. Let’s go upstairs.”
“No nap!”
Ethan cried, twisting in Stewart’s grip. His little fist smacked against Stewart’s chest as he tried to wriggle free. “Wanna pay!”
“You can play after your nap,”
Stewart said patiently, standing and lifting Ethan higher. “I blame this on Uncle Killian. He spoils you rotten. All your uncles do, and your grandpa might be the worst of them. They’ve created a little gremlin.”
“Gemin?”
Stewart smiled softly, tapping the boy on his nose. “A tiny creature who causes all sorts of trouble. Does that sound familiar?”
“I da bear,”
Ethan said in a huff.
“And the tantrums begin.”
Stewart sighed and headed toward the entrance to the kitchen.
Raziel walked right through the back door without opening it, but he kept his distance so he hopefully wouldn’t alert his son to his presence. He just wanted to see Ethan, to hear his voice, not upset him like last time, when he’d had to leave.
Ethan froze, his expression shifting to alarm as his gaze darted toward the table. “Da bear!”
Stewart kept walking. “I know you’re the bear. You can growl around the house after your nap, buddy.”
Ethan shook his head with all the ferocity a toddler could muster. “No! Da bear!”
He struggled wildly, almost toppling out of Stewart’s arms. “In ki-pen! Bear in ki-pen!”
Raziel’s jaw tightened as he watched. Ethan’s attachment to the bear was more than just a child’s whim. The faint glow of his power was in the stuffed animal, a beacon of protection.
“C’mon, Ethan,”
Stewart groaned, adjusting the wriggling toddler, exhaustion in his voice. “We’ll get the bear after your nap. I swear my legs are too tired to turn around and get it.”
“No!”
Ethan thrashed, glaring at Stewart with toddler fury. “Piss a you, Uncuh Stewalulu!”
Stewart stopped at the bottom of the stairs, his lips twitching with a mixture of exasperation and amusement. “What have I told you about saying that potty word?”
“Piss a you!”
Ethan repeated, jabbing a finger into Stewart’s chest before bursting into heart-wrenching sobs.
Raziel took a step forward, instincts he’d never had before making him want to kill whatever was making his son cry. Despite already knowing Stewart was the cause and why Ethan was crying, Raziel wanted to kill the source causing his tears.
“Okay, okay. You win.”
Stewart finally relented, his voice tired but gentle. “We’ll get your bear. Stop crying, buddy. Uncle’s just tired. We both are.”
Raziel watched silently as Stewart carried Ethan into the kitchen, retrieving the abandoned bear to end the tantrum. His son’s hiccups slowed, the tears drying as he clutched the toy close to his chest, his tiny arms wrapping fiercely around it.
Raziel’s fingers twitched at his side. He wanted to wipe away his son’s tears, brush a hand over his golden hair, to reassure his amoretto in ways he couldn’t put into words.
The enchanted bear glowed dimly—a light only an angel could see—but steady, a reminder of the power keeping his son hidden.
When Ethan rested his small head on Stewart’s shoulder, taking comfort in his uncle, Raziel had to look away, clenching his jaw. Seeing his son take solace in someone else’s arms created a hollowness in his chest he feared he may never claw his way out of.
Flashing away, he stood in the dead silence of a forgotten ruin, the crumbling stones shrouded in darkness. The air here was cold, sharp, and blessedly still.
For a moment, silence enveloped him, save for the faint whistle of wind through the cracks in the walls. He let it settle over him, though his mind was far from quiet.
Even though Bashar was unaware of the fact, he had finally found the perfect torture method that would bring Raziel to his knees.
The ability to watch but not interact with his son and mate, forcing him to remain in the shadows, just out of reach of them.
“Congratulations, you piece of shit. You finally broke me,”
he said with a bitter laugh. “You want these fucking secrets locked inside my head? Screw you!”
He ground his teeth, leaning the back of his head against the wall, the emptiness of the ruin pressing in on him. Raziel was between a rock and a hard place, in a goddamn freefall, and he didn’t see a light at the end of this shitshow.