Chapter Five
Something had to give. Raziel was bouncing between two homes while trying to remain under Bashar’s radar. Angels didn’t sleep, but Raziel felt pulled in so many directions he just wanted to lie down and rest.
Leaving his mate after what they’d shared hadn’t been easy, but the ache to see his son again had become unbearable.
Tucked snugly beneath the blankets, Ethan clung to the stuffed bear with both arms, gripping it tightly even in sleep.
With the house silent, Raziel allowed the shroud of invisibility to slip away, standing unguarded before his child.
If only Ethan could see him. Not as a thin veil of energy, his face obscured, but as his father, whole and present and someone who should have been there all along.
Drawn to the soft strands of hair that tumbled across his son’s forehead, Raziel reached out, but his fingers curled into a fist, falling away before they made contact.
If you touch him, his existence will be exposed.
The ache to hold his child pressed down like a mountain he couldn’t move. Raziel’s gaze was fixed on the steady rise and fall of Ethan’s chest, searching for solace in the rhythm of his son’s breaths, his face serene with whatever dreams carried him.
The snow globe on the dresser drew his attention, the one given to his son on Christmas morning. With care, Raziel picked it up, his fingers brushing the cool surface. A gentle shake sent the snow swirling around the majestic bear.
Turning the lever beneath, he set the lullaby in motion, its soft strains drifting through the quiet room.
Could he give his son this kind of life? Ethan was used to stability—lunches with his uncle, and naptimes, like he was doing now. It was a mundane life, something Raziel knew nothing about, but Ethan thrived in.
“Pay whiff me?”
The sound of his son’s voice behind him caused Raziel to freeze, too afraid to turn around.
Just flash out before you set things in motion that can’t be undone.
But he’d already set things in motion the day he’d shown up here, and he didn’t want to feel like he was running from Ethan.
Fuck. The ache to play with his amoretto , to be the one who made the boy laugh… I just want him to look at me, to know I’m here for him and that I didn’t abandon him. I didn’t even know he existed.
Poddy wurb.
Raziel gasped, his eyes widening as the room fell away, replaced by images moving at lightning speed. The toddler had pulled him into his mind.
Slow them down, Ethan.
The images slowed, now drifting gently by. Raziel’s gaze flicked quickly around, greedy to see Ethan’s life through a child’s lens. He could have simply touched his son to see these, but he hadn’t been able to.
Now he had a glimpse, the images not quite solid. Ethan was only three on the human plane, and Raziel knew his son was doing the best he could.
Colors swirled together, luminous and vibrant, like sunlight dancing through stained glass. The images moved in and out of focus, Ethan’s memories bleeding together in a way that felt achingly raw, unpolished, and yet heartbreakingly pure.
Raziel’s breath caught as he glimpsed Ethan toddling across a kitchen floor, bare feet padding against cool tiles, his high-pitched giggles echoing like a melody only children could create. The boy’s chubby hands reached for a bowl on the counter, his lips pursed in concentration as he stretched up on his toes.
Despite it only being a memory, Raziel had an urge to hold his arms out just in case his son fell.
The memory shifted. Ethan curled in Stewart’s lap, the orange glow of a fireplace casting flickering shadows across the room. Stewart hummed softly, his hand stroking the boy’s wild curls as Ethan’s eyelids drooped. Raziel’s core ached at the sight, a strange mix of gratitude and envy twisting inside him.
Uncuh Stewalulu. It was clear just how much Ethan loved him.
At least his son knew how to love. You have to take it easy on the tantrums. Uncle Stewart is trying his best.
Lub Stewalulu.
Raziel closed his eyes, telling himself not to break down in front of his son. Ethan didn’t know who he was, so he shouldn’t feel rejected, shouldn’t feel the crushing ache because he wanted so badly for Ethan to say the same thing to him.
You don’t know shit about love, and you definitely don’t deserve his.
Poddy wurb a no-no.
A burst of laughter escaped Raziel. It’s not polite to invade my thoughts, hon.
Sowwy.
He had to stop himself from ruffling his son’s hair. So far, Ethan hadn’t looked up at him. He kept his head slightly turned as he gazed at the images. Then he giggled.
Turning to see what amused him, Raziel frowned. It was a memory so distant he couldn’t make it out. Clearly Ethan knew what it was, and it made him happy.
The scene softened into warmth, muted light filtering through watery darkness. Ethan’s small form shifted, not yet fully developed, cocooned in safety. His tiny fingers stretched, brushing the edge of the womb, and Raziel swore he could feel the faint echo of a heartbeat resonating in his own chest.
It was quiet. Fragile. Sacred in its simplicity.
The muted hues of reds and golds surrounded Ethan, a protective glow that seemed to hum with life itself. His son’s tiny fingers curled in slow, tentative movements, exploring the limited space with a curiosity that made Raziel’s breath catch. He watched as the baby’s legs kicked softly, an instinctive motion that conveyed a kind of innocent determination.
Even then, before his son had entered the world, there was a strength to him.
The watery darkness shifted, and Raziel became aware of the rhythmic cadence surrounding Ethan, the steady thrum of his mother’s heartbeat. It resonated in the memory like a hymn, wrapping his son in its comforting melody.
Raziel’s chest tightened, his own heart falling into sync with the memory, the sound filling him with a strange sense of belonging he had never known.
He reached out instinctively, his hand hovering over the image, knowing he couldn’t touch it but unable to stop himself. The womb seemed to pulse gently, glowing brighter as if in recognition of his presence. A faint ripple moved through the memory, a soft nudge from the child within, and Raziel thought, absurdly, that it was meant for him.
Ethan’s small form turned, his face not yet fully formed but already perfect in Raziel’s eyes. The delicate curve of his cheek, the budding shape of his nose—it was all there, etched into a moment Raziel had never been part of but now felt with unbearable clarity.
He hadn’t been there for this, for the first signs of life, the first stirrings of his son’s existence. The loss of it hit him like a blow, a deep ache that burrowed into his soul.
I’m here now, amoretto.
The heartbeat grew louder for an instant, a steady drum that seemed to echo his thoughts. Then the memory began to fade, the warm light dimming, pulling him back to the present.
Carol.
Her name pierced through him. Raziel swallowed hard, his throat dry as he tried to ground himself. Ethan. Where’s your mommy? Raziel murmured the thought, his voice low and reverent.
Ethan sat, shaking his head in a slow, deliberate motion. He didn’t speak, his body language carrying a weight Raziel couldn’t ignore.
He crouched beside his son. “ It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me.”
A chill passed through him, subtle at first but growing sharper, prickling against his skin. Raziel turned his head, his gaze drawn to the edge of Ethan’s mind—a darkened corner that seemed to pulse with its own unnatural energy.
This…was impossible. It shouldn’t even be in Ethan’s mind. What was a Sollis doing inside a child’s head?
Raziel’s gaze darted to Ethan, whose small form trembled within the mindscape, his hands clenched at his sides as he stood at the forefront of the chaos. His wide eyes shimmered with fear, but beneath it was a flicker of something else.
Resolve.
He wasn’t cowering, he was holding the entity at bay as best as he could, his small body shaking under the strain.
“Hep me,”
Ethan whispered, his voice quivering but steady, a spark of determination shining through his fear.
The Sollis rippled, bloated and writhing with invasive energy, feeding on the threads of his half-angelic essence. A knot formed deep within Raziel as he took in the sight. Ethan was fighting, but the strain was evident, and the boy couldn’t hold out forever.
Raziel’s wings expanded. “Back away now,”
he snarled into the emptiness, his command laced with quiet fury.
The pulsing calmed to a thrum before growing silent.
You must never go near it. Do you understand me? Raziel stood there watching it, too afraid to look away. Promise you’ll stay away from it, amoretto.
Pomus.
Soft skin brushed Raziel’s hand then curled around his fingers, tiny and trusting.
The world seemed to tilt beneath Raziel, every instinct screaming both joy and terror.
Pay now?
Raziel couldn’t breathe. He was touching his son for the first time, a moment so profound it hollowed him out. But the stakes were as crushing as the beauty of it.
This single act of innocence had signed Ethan’s death warrant.
The toddler didn’t know, couldn’t know. His wide, trusting gaze searched Raziel’s face, utterly oblivious to the danger his small hand had unleashed.
“Get out of his fucking mind now,”
a dark, deadly voice snarled.
Killian.
Lowering his head, Raziel gazed into his son’s wide eyes.
Piss a me!
A shuddered laugh rattled in Raziel’s throat. That honor is all mine.
Piss a you?
This was not going to go well. There was a stranger in their nephew’s bedroom, and the only reason Killian hadn’t attacked yet was because Raziel was inside the boy’s mind. The bear shifter was afraid of doing any kind of damage if he attacked before they were unlinked.
Thank you for sharing all of your memories with me, Ethan. That meant so much to me. But it was time to get out of there. Ethan had touched him, and Raziel needed to warn Killian about the shitstorm that was already headed their way. Remember, stay away from the dark corner.
No go.
Raziel didn’t want to. Spending time with his son, talking to him, and his child seeing his face for the first time would be something forever etched in Raziel’s memory, forever a treasured moment.
We have to go, Ethan. Bad men are coming. I have to warn Uncle Killian. Since Raziel wasn’t going to leave his son to those angels, Bashar would find him too.
Ethan pressed his lips together, studied Raziel, and then nodded.
The moment the room came back into full view, Killian attacked, just as Raziel knew he would. The bear shifter slammed him into the wall, followed by a powerful fist to the jaw. He could easily take Killian down, but he didn’t want Ethan to see the uncle he loved brutalized.
Instead, he went invisible and slid from under the bear shifter’s beefy fists.
“Show yourself.”
A small tic beneath Killian’s right eye hinted at the barely contained inferno roiling inside him. “Who are you, and why are you in my house?”
“Not in front of the boy,”
Raziel replied. “I don’t want him to see any more violence.”
Ethan sat on the bed looking right at Raziel, his head tilted slightly, his eyes wide. He wasn’t sure what was going through his son’s head.
“Stewart, take him downstairs,”
Killian said as soon as his mate hurried into the room.
“What’s going on? It sounded like something heavy was knocked down.”
That would be me.
“Babe, please, just take Ethan downstairs.”
Killian kept his narrowed eyes on the spot where Raziel disappeared, but he was actually to the shifter’s right.
“Come on, tater tot.”
Stewart picked Ethan up.
“No. I here!”
Ethan wiggled fiercely to get out of Stewart’s arms. “I here!”
“Cub, can you please go downstairs with your uncle? I promise I’ll come down and make you some hot chocolate with the tiny marshmallows you love so much,”
Killian said in a soft and loving tone.
Which only made him realize how well the two knew Ethan and how much they truly cared about him. When Raziel had discovered he’d had a son, curiosity had been his driving factor.
He’d come into their home, disrupted their lives, and put Ethan in danger all because he wanted… What did he want? He couldn’t provide any of this for his amoretto .
He didn’t even have a home to take his son to. Was he really going to upend Ethan’s life and rip him away from the two men who loved him and cared for him?
I’m a selfish prick.
“He’s gone. Now show yourself and tell me what’s going on.”
Killian glanced around. “One false move and I’ll rip out your entrails.”
Bashar held the honors of being the first one who’d inflicted that kind of pain on him.
Raziel dropped his invisibility shield then spread his wings.
Killian snorted. “I hope you don’t think those are supposed to impress me.”
Raziel liked him. “No. I was merely showing you what I am.”
“I know a few winged beasts,”
Killian replied. “I also know for damn sure Nazaryth didn’t send you, so why are you here?”
His fists clenched and unclenched, his gaze never leaving Raziel’s.
This would be the first time he would admit out loud his relationship to Ethan. Suddenly, he was nervous, an emotion he wasn’t used to feeling.
Stewart returned, his eyes rounding when he caught sight of Raziel. “Your dad, Ryker, and Nate are here,”
he said to Killian but never took his eyes off of Raziel.
Quinton Everhart walked into the room, his boots striking the floor with slow, measured steps. Then he looked Raziel over. The air seemed to shift, thickening with the weight of authority he carried effortlessly.
Every sharp edge of his gaze felt like a countdown to destruction.
“You have no idea who you’re fucking with,”
the father snarled, his voice like gravel grinding over stone. The tone was quiet but carried a deadly promise. “One call and I can have the entire East Coast at my back.”
That…was impressive. Raziel could call… He would get back to that. “I’m here for a reason.”
“Caught him poking around inside Ethan’s head.”
Killian scowled. If his gaze held any more venom, the air itself would have turned toxic. “They were doing that thing Ethan did to Ryker when he was looking for Nate.”
Stewart gasped. “Why were you inside his head?”
he demanded, his voice cracking slightly.
Raziel clenched his jaw. This wasn’t how he’d wanted to… To what? Meet them? Had he planned on ever introducing himself? Honestly, Raziel hadn’t thought that far ahead, he realized bitterly. He’d come with nothing but instinct and desperation.
“Ethan is about to have a legion of angels hunting him down,”
Raziel answered, his voice tighter than he intended.
“Why?”
Quinton asked, his upper lip curled. “What did you do?”
Sure, blame him right off the bat. They didn’t even know what was going on, and yet he was the bad guy in this. “I merely slept with Stewart’s sister.”
He wasn’t sure why he was being so caustic. Was it guilt? Or was it the raw weight of their judgment that hit far too close to home? They had every right to be angry and blame him.
They’d found a stranger in their home, and he’d just dropped hella news on them.
“Are you…are you Ethan’s father?”
Stewart furrowed his brows, studying Raziel closely. “You’re not on his birth certificate.”
“Because Carol only knew me as Raziel. She didn’t know what I was,”
he explained, keeping his eyes on Killian and Quinton. As soon as Stewart asked the question, their hackles rose. He turned to look at Killian. “I am not a winged beast. I am an angel.”
Killian still didn’t seem impressed. If anything, his scowl deepened. The room felt colder under his scrutiny, as if the very air had withdrawn in disapproval. Raziel was not scoring any points with his in-laws. Not that he cared what they thought of him.
“So why, if what you say is true, does Ethan have a bunch of angels ready to hunt him down?”
Killian’s voice was calm and yet sharper than any blade. “What did you do to piss them off besides sleep with a human?”
Stewart looked from Killian to Raziel.
“He is known as a Nephilim, half human, half angel,”
Raziel explained. A wave of tension surged through him as he forced himself to meet their eyes, their combined judgment a crushing weight. “We’re supposed to remain pure.”
“Virgin angels.”
Killian grunted. The corner of his mouth lifted in a mocking smile, as if he couldn’t believe such a thing could be real. “Just because you dipped your wings where you weren’t supposed to, that still doesn’t explain why they’re after him.”
“Because Ethan is proof of my wicked ways.”
Raziel shrugged. He thought it was ridiculous a child should suffer just because they were an offspring of an angel. “Any Nephilim born are killed.”
“No!”
Stewart shouted. The sound cracked through the tension like a thunderclap, his face pale with disbelief.
“No one is touching my fucking grandson,”
Quinton growled, his fists tightening at his sides. His voice carried the kind of authority that made lesser men scramble for cover.
Raziel wasn’t a lesser man.
“Why would they wait three years?”
Killian asked, seeming the only calm one among the three.
Raziel glanced away. Shame coiled tightly in his chest, suffocating and relentless. He’d been so careful not to touch Ethan, but he hadn’t used such caution while inside Ethan’s mind. So busy watching the Sollis, he’d let his guard down with his son.
“Because he held my hand. As soon as we made contact, our bond resonated, alerting the angels of his existence.”
“Just tell me what we have to do to protect him.”
Killian took a few steps toward Raziel. “If you would have just come to us, talked with me and Stewart, all of this could have been avoided. If anything happens to him, it’ll be on your head.”
Quinton was on the phone, speaking quickly into it as Stewart took off downstairs.
“You don’t think I already know this?”
Raziel snarled right back at him. “I’m being hunted for secrets in my head, and now my son will be as well.”
“How do we protect Ethan?”
Killian asked, cutting straight to the heart of the matter.
“You can’t.”