Chapter Eight
Ezekiel carried a small tray with two mugs of coffee as he made his way toward Archer’s bedroom. He rapped his knuckles on the heavy wood door, a staccato beat that echoed down the hall. He balanced the tray carefully, his nerves jittering like static electricity. When the door finally swung open, Ezekiel was met with the sight of Archer looking as if he'd been through a particularly vicious battle with his bedsheets—and lost.
“Hey.”
Archer wrapped his robe tighter around him.
“Good morning.”
Ezekiel could barely stand seeing Archer so distraught. “May I come in?”
He scratched his head, clearing his throat. “Uh, sure.”
He pointed to the mugs. “I hope those have coffee in them.”
“I figured you might need some. I know I do.”
Ezekiel offered Archer one of the cups and stepped inside. “I think I remembered how you took it from when we were at the coffee shop yesterday. If not, I can make you another one.”
Archer’s eyes widened slightly as he accepted the mug. “We were in mortal danger, and you were paying attention to that?”
Ezekiel set the tray down on a small round side table next to the green velvet chair. He withheld comment about the food tray from the night before. Broken plates with mangled cheese, bread, and meats were jumbled together in a pile on the bent silver platter that had been set on the floor near the wastebasket.
“Whether you accept it or not, you’re my mate. Everything about you, no matter how small a detail, is important to me.”
Archer wrapped his hands around the mug then sank on the chair. “See, that’s what’s messing with my head.”
Ezekiel perched on the edge of the bed, wishing like hell he could be next to Archer, that his mate hadn’t chosen to keep a physical distance between them.
“What is, dearest? Tell me how I can help you through this abrupt change in your life. I’d do anything for you.”
His gaze swept over Archer, searching for any signal that he was getting through to him. “Would it help to speak with another Nephilim?”
Archer lifted his eyes. “Are there any here?”
Ezekiel sighed. “No. But I could see if Amir is available to speak with you. When Dante rescued Amir, he was also unaware of his Nephilim heritage. They have since had a baby boy together.”
Archer’s eyebrows shot up. “This is so unreal.”
He frowned. “Wait. I thought I heard that name when you and Malachi were talking. So you’re saying this, Amir, he actually gave birth to a baby?”
Ezekiel set his mug down on the floor. “He did. And we might not have phones, but I can send a message to Dante through the lair computer. We’ve found we have no choice but to track human activity through those devices. Many times, we’ve discovered a shadow attack through baffled scanner groups.”
Archer grunted. “You know, the more information I get about gargoyle life, the less I understand.”
He dropped his head in his hands. “But I suppose I have no choice but to move forward.”
Ezekiel couldn’t stand to hear the anguish in Archer’s voice. He went to his side, dropping to his knees on the floor next to the chair. He took a chance and grasped Archer’s hand. When he didn’t pull away, hope bloomed in Ezekiel’s chest.
“I don’t want you to feel as if you’re being forced, angel. Spending our lives together as mates is meant to be a joyous experience, not a prison sentence.”
Archer squeezed Ezekiel’s fingers. “That what I want to believe, that I can have something so precious. But it feels too good to be true.”
Archer’s voice dropped to a whisper. “And I'm terrified of losing it all.”
Ezekiel nodded, his thumb tracing soothing circles on Archer’s hand. “What you shared with me about your upbringing broke my heart. It must be hard to believe that you no longer have to keep your heart locked up so it doesn’t get crushed. That I won’t abandon you. We don’t have to rush anything. We can take this as slow as you need.”
A small smile tugged at Archer’s lips. “Even though you've been waiting for me for centuries?”
“Even then,”
Ezekiel gave him a soft smile. “Your comfort and happiness are what matter most to me.”
Archer was quiet for a moment, his eyes searching Ezekiel's face. Then, hesitantly, he reached out with his free hand and cupped Ezekiel's cheek. “I never had the chance to make my confession last night.”
Ezekiel leaned into his touch. “Will you make it now?”
“I can’t stop thinking about how badly I want you. I’ve never experienced such an aching need before. I know at least some of it is from this fated business, but even if you were just a regular guy, I’d want you.”
The corners of his mouth tugged into a slight smile. “I’ve never met anyone so kind and good. Brave, caring, unselfish, gorgeous.”
Archer shook his head. “To be honest, I don’t think I deserve you.”
Ezekiel reached up and laced his fingers with Archer’s. “Just because you were rejected as a child, doesn’t mean you weren’t worthy of love then or now. That’s on those who didn’t try to see your true value.”
He brushed his lips across Archer’s knuckles. “You deserve every bit of happiness, dearest. And if you'll let me, I'd like to spend the rest of eternity proving that to you.”
Archer’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against Ezekiel’s. “I want to believe you. I really do.”
“Then believe this,”
Ezekiel whispered, his breath ghosting over Archer’s lips. “I'm not going anywhere. No matter how long it takes or what obstacles we face, I'll be right here by your side.”
A shuddering sigh escaped Archer as he closed the tiny gap between them, pressing his lips to Ezekiel's in a tender kiss. It was hesitant at first, a mere brush of lips, but as Ezekiel responded, the kiss deepened. Ezekiel tangled his fingers in Archer’s hair, pulling him closer. Archer slid from the chair, embracing him back as they battled for dominance over the kiss with their tongues.
When they finally parted, they were both breathless. Archer’s eyes were wide, pupils dilated.
“I need you,”
Archer begged. “I feel like I’ll lose my mind if you don’t fuck me now. My body is on fire.”
Ezekiel rose, dragging Archer to his feet with one hand and encircled his waist with the other. “I’m not making love to my angel on the floor for our first time.”
“We can do it on the fucking kitchen table for all I care,”
Archer growled. He squeezed Ezekiel’s ass cheek with a powerful grip. “Don’t make me wait one second longer.”
After giving Archer’s ear lobe a quick nip, he tugged him toward the bed, whirled him around then pushed him onto the mattress. His poor angel was flushed, and Ezekiel was sure his heat was hitting him full force. Archer needn’t worry. He wouldn’t be waiting.
Ezekiel wasted no time in shedding his clothes, his eyes never leaving Archer’s flushed face. With each layer removed, Archer's breathing grew more ragged, his hands fisting in the sheets as if to anchor himself.
“You're beautiful.”
Archer licked his lips, his gaze roaming hungrily over Ezekiel’s form.
Ezekiel’s heart swelled at the compliment. He climbed onto the bed, hovering over Archer as if he was the predator and Archer was his prey. “And you, my angel, are exquisite.”
He leaned down, capturing Archer’s lips in a searing kiss, using one hand to untie the robe.
Archer arched into the touch, a low moan escaping him as Ezekiel’s fingers trailed over his newly exposed skin. “Please,”
he gasped between kisses, “I need you inside me.”
Ezekiel’s control snapped at his mate’s plea. He growled low in his throat, nibbling and kissing his way down Archer’s neck as he pushed the robe open fully. His hands roamed over Archer’s chest, teasing his mate’s hardened nipples.
Archer gasped, writhing beneath him. “Quit stalling. I can't take it anymore.”
“Shh, I've got you,”
Ezekiel murmured against Archer’s skin. He trailed kisses down his torso, savoring every inch of his mate’s body. When he reached Archer’s straining erection, he took him into his mouth, savoring his velvety hardness.
Archer cried out, his hips bucking, forcing his hard cock to the back of Ezekiel’s throat. He held Archer steady by his hips, working him with lips and tongue until he was a quivering mess. Right as Archer neared the edge, Ezekiel pulled back, eliciting a frustrated groan from Archer.
“Not yet, my love. I want to be inside you when you come.”
Archer nodded frantically, spreading his legs up and back in invitation. Ezekiel’s eyes widened as he noticed the glistening slick between Archer’s thighs—a telltale sign of a Nephilim in heat.
“Mmm… you're already ready for me,”
Ezekiel moaned, running a finger through the natural lubricant.
Archer shuddered at the touch. “I…I don’t understand what’s happening, but it feels like I’m going to die if you don’t fill me this very second.”
Unable to deny him any longer, Ezekiel positioned himself at Archer’s entrance. He pushed in slowly, savoring every inch as his mate’s tight heat enveloped him. They both moaned in unison
Archer wrapped his legs around Ezekiel's waist, pulling him in deeper. “Fuck,”
he gasped, his head thrown back against the pillows. “You feel incredible.”
Ezekiel stilled, giving Archer time to adjust. He peppered kisses along his mate's jaw, savoring the salty taste of his skin and the light scratch of his morning stubble. “Are you okay, my love?”
“Beyond okay.”
He rolled his hips, drawing a groan from them both. “Move, dammit. I need you to fucking move.”
Ezekiel chuckled. “So feisty.”
He started with slow, deep thrusts, basking in their first time being joined. With each thrust forward, Archer met him eagerly, their bodies rocking together in perfect synchronization.
“Faster,”
Archer demanded, his nails digging into Ezekiel's back.
Ezekiel obliged, picking up the pace. The room filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin and their mingled moans of pleasure. He angled his hips, searching for that sweet spot inside Archer.
“Oh fuck!”
Archer cried out, arching his back. “Right there!”
Ezekiel grinned, maintaining the angle as he pounded into Archer relentlessly. He barrelled toward his own climax, a tingling heat coiling in his lower belly. He reached between them, wrapping his fingers around Archer’s neglected cock. He stroked in time with his thrusts, Archer’s precum helping to ease the way.
“That's it, angel,”
he panted. “Let go for me. I want to feel you come undone.”
Archer’s body tensed, his passage clenching around Ezekiel’s cock. With a strangled shout, he came, spilling between their bodies. The pulsing pressure around him sent Ezekiel over the edge, and he buried himself to the hilt as his own release crashed over him. Ezekiel cried out Archer’s name as he spilled deep inside his mate, their bodies shuddering together in shared ecstasy.
For several long moments, they remained locked together, panting and trembling in the afterglow. Ezekiel peppered soft kisses along Archer’s neck, cradling him as his knot began to swell. Archer tensed, and he clasped Ezekiel’s shoulders.
“What the…?”
He struggled beneath Ezekiel. “What’s happening?”
“Shh, angel. Don’t fight me. That’s my knot, keeping us joined so my seed will stay inside you.”
Archer stared up at him with wide, frightened eyes. “Let me guess. It’s supposed to help me get pregnant?”
Ezekiel wished he had the right words to help Archer believe everything would be okay. “It is. Whether you think getting pregnant is possible for you or not, I promise my knot won’t hurt you.”
Ezekiel smiled in reassurance. “Can you at least trust me on that?”
Archer took a deep breath, his body relaxing slightly beneath Ezekiel. “I... I trust you,”
His gaze searched Ezekiel's face. “Still processing.”
Ezekiel nuzzled Archer’s cheek, placing a gentle kiss there. “I know, my love. We'll figure this out together, step by step.”
They lay entwined, Ezekiel’s knot keeping them connected. As the minutes passed, Archer’s breathing evened out, his fingers tracing idle patterns on Ezekiel’s back.
‘This is... nice.”
Archer let out a happy sigh. “I've never felt so complete before.”
Ezekiel’s chest tightened. “That's because we were made for each other, angel. Two halves of a whole.”
Archer hummed thoughtfully, his fingers continuing their gentle exploration of Ezekiel's back. “I'm starting to believe that might actually be true.”
Ezekiel'‘s heart soared at those words. He pressed a tender kiss to Archer’s forehead. “It is true, dearest. And I promise, I'll spend every day proving it to you.”
Archer regarded him, his brow furrowing. “What happens now? Do we stay here, go to another lair, get a house?”
He smirked. “Build a nursery?”
Ezekiel chuckled, propping himself up on one elbow, his softening erection slipping from Archer’s body. He placed his palm on Archer’s belly.
"Now, we face whatever comes next together. There's still much for you to learn about your heritage, about our world. Plus, the amazing revelation of your healing powers. I’m looking forward to working with you side by side.”
Archer held his gaze, but Ezekiel could tell his thoughts were racing. “I will say I’m excited by that prospect as well. I know I come across as flippant like I don’t give a shit about anything. But being a doctor means so much to me. Until you, I didn’t care about anything else, really.”
Ezekiel’s eyes burned with unshed tears. Hearing Archer admit he cared about him was more than he’d expected so soon. He leaned down and gave Archer a soft kiss. “I'm honored to be someone you care about. And don’t worry. Your healing skills combined with your experience as a doctor will be invaluable to our cause.”
Archer covered Ezekiel’s hand with his own. entwining their fingers. “You know, I never thought I'd want a family,”
he admitted. “But with you... it doesn't seem so scary anymore.”
Ezekiel grinned. “You’re making all my dreams come true.”
Archer grinned back. “Never thought I’d ever hear anyone say that about me.”
He leaned up to press their mouths together before laying his head back on the pillow. “But I’ll take it.”
Archer's words hung in the air, a tentative promise of a future Ezekiel had only dared to dream about. He gazed down at his mate, marveling at how quickly everything had changed. Only yesterday, Archer had been a stranger, unaware of his true nature. Now, here they were, tangled together in the aftermath of their passion, discussing a shared future.
He couldn’t imagine ever being without Archer again.