Chapter 21 Lindsay
TWENTY-ONE
LINDSAY
The second time I wake up to warmth.
Not the kind that comes from blankets or firelight—but the kind that wraps around you and makes you feel cozy and safe.
Kael’s arms are around me, one curved beneath my shoulders, the other tucked low at my waist. His wings—those dark, massive things—are folded around us like we’re something precious. Like I’m something precious.
For a moment, I just breathe.
The scent of him—smoke and something ancient—settles in my chest like a calming spell. His magic brushes mine in soft pulses, less sharp than last night but still alive beneath my skin. I let myself lean into it. Into him.
But then memory creeps in.
The council. The Veil. The way my magic nearly tore through everyone around me.
I shift carefully, trying to detangle myself without waking him. My hand presses against his chest, light as a whisper. I move an inch—then another—but the second I start to slide from the circle of his hold, his wings snap tighter.
I freeze.
His grip tightens too, like some unconscious instinct is refusing to let go.
I can barely move. And I can feel all of him beneath me, every hard inch.
I swallow and inhale slowly as I attempt to settle against him, because I’m obviously not going anywhere until he wakes up.
His breath catches, and his eyes flutter open—his normally light blue eyes have a light gray threaded through them this close, and are soft with sleep, still hazy.
For a second, he doesn’t speak. He just stares at me, like he’s trying to figure out if this is real.
Then he blinks, awareness growing slowly.
And he blushes.
A real blush, faint but there, blooming along the tops of his cheekbones and dusting the tips of his ears. I feel it more than see it—his body goes stiff, his magic stutters, and he immediately starts to unwind his wings.
“I—apologies.” His voice is rough, quiet. “That wasn’t… I didn’t mean to hold you like that.”
“You were asleep,” I say, watching him with a strange sort of awe. “Your wings wouldn’t let me go.”
He winces. “That’s… not typical.”
I raise a brow. “You don’t usually cuddle? Tell me it isn’t so, the cryptic demon prince would totally cuddle,” I tease him as a smile pulls at my lips.
Kael groans under his breath, a sound I didn’t know he was capable of making. “Apparently, my body has no shame.”
“You’re blushing,” I murmur. “Kael, you actually—blush. I’m learning a lot about you. You bleed, you cuddle, you blush.”
His gaze cuts away from mine, clearly mortified. “It won’t happen again.”
A laugh slips from me before I can stop it. Not because I want to embarrass him more—but because this version of him, raw and unguarded, is kind of beautiful.
“I didn’t mind,” I whisper. “I think I slept deeply for the first time in days.”
Kael exhales, visibly relieved. “Good. You needed it.”
I let my head fall back against his chest, just for a moment. “So did you.”
He doesn’t answer—but his arms stay around me.
And for once, we don’t need words.
I stay where I am, my cheek pressed against his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heart.
It’s quiet.
Calm.
But beneath it, something’s shifted. Not just in the bond we don’t dare name—but in the way his body reacts to mine. He’s still holding me, not quite as tightly as before, but enough that I feel every inch of him—every breath, every twitch of muscle, every subtle change.
And there is a change. A growing one, between his legs.
His heartbeat stutters slightly when I shift to get more comfortable. Just a small adjustment, but the second my hips move against his, his hands flex at my waist.
Then still. Tension ripples through him like a pulled wire.
I freeze. But it’s too late.
A low, strangled sound escapes him—more groan than word—and one arm tightens, keeping me pinned on top of him. “Don’t,” he mutters, voice rough and strained against the shell of my ear. “Not unless you’re ready for what happens next.”
My breath catches somewhere between mortification and something far more dangerous.
His hand tightens at my hip—not enough to hurt, just enough to hold me still against the unmistakable heat of his reaction. I don’t dare look at him. Not with how intimately I can feel just how not-unaffected he is.
I swallow hard and nod, barely moving. He exhales against me, the weight of it brushing the side of my neck.
“It’s not the time,” he says, a little more softly now. “Not yet.”
It’s not disgust I hear in his tone. It’s restraint. And that sends another flush racing down my neck.
He doesn’t let me go, and my stomach dips at the promise of the last two words.
Because I would probably let him have me.
I’ve been through so much over the last few days that giving in to my attraction to Kael would be a bright spot in it all.
But he just holds me there, like he doesn’t trust himself to move.
Like if I shift again, even by accident, everything will unravel.
Before I can think of what to say—before I can even decide if I want to tease him or pretend it didn’t happen—a knock cuts through the moment.
Kael shifts immediately, wings tightening once around me, then pulling back as he shifts me off of him and sits up. He doesn’t look at me right away. Instead, he presses a hand to his face, muttering something in a language I don’t know.
Then he stands, crosses to the door, and opens it just wide enough to speak without letting anyone see me still tangled in his bed.
“What is it?” he asks, voice flat, already slipping back into that unreadable mask he wears like armor.
A pause. “We need to talk. All of us,” Raiden says from the other side.
I scramble to sit up, dragging the sheet with me, trying to make myself look like I didn’t just nearly cause a very specific kind of reaction out of him.
My heart’s still thudding from being pressed against Kael’s body.
From the feel of his hand on my waist. From the memory of the dream I’m not letting myself think about right now.
Kael glances back at me. His gaze flicks down over me—just once—before he turns to Raiden.
“Give us a minute.”
The door shuts again.
And Kael exhales like he’s been holding that breath since I moved on top of him.
“I’ll get dressed,” I say quickly, cheeks burning.
He nods and turns his back before I even move, jaw clenched tight like he's holding something back. As though if he looks at me again, we’ll both do something we can’t take back.
I slip out of the bed, tugging the hem of his shirt down instinctively as I reach for my tattered dress where it’s folded neatly on the table. I don’t remember folding it last night. Kael must have.
That small detail shouldn’t make my stomach flip, but it does.
The dress feels like paper against my skin, torn in two places and still carrying the acrid scent of the Veil’s magic. I pull it on anyway. I’m not ready to shed the last twenty-four hours, and this dress feels like proof I survived them.
“I’m decent,” I say, even though we both know there’s nothing decent about the tension stretching between us.
Kael turns, slow and guarded. His eyes find mine—and stay there.
“Last night…” he starts, then cuts himself off, shaking his head.
I wait, but he doesn’t finish.
So I nod, like I understand. As if I’m not still feeling the imprint of his fingers on my waist. Like the dream of his lips on mine didn’t follow me into the waking world and curl under my skin.
He opens the door before I can speak, before I can do something stupid like ask him to kiss me for real.
Raiden, Nolan, and Tamsin are all standing there—each of them tense in their own way, eyes flicking between me and Kael.
“We need to talk,” Raiden says again, but his tone is softer this time.
Kael steps aside to let them in, but his body doesn’t move far from mine. It’s not possessive. It’s protective. Not that I need protection from these three.
And I don’t know what that does to my heart, but I know it’s too much to look at right now.
So I drag my attention to the others. To the mess we still have to clean up. To the truth waiting to be told.
Raiden doesn’t waste time. “The Council’s looking for you.”
My spine stiffens before I can stop it. “Looking for me to what? Try again now that they’ve caught their breath?”
Kael’s magic spikes behind me—cool, sharp, and dangerous. I don’t even have to look at him to know his wings are just barely restrained, his jaw locked tight.
“Let them try,” he says, voice low and full of that veiled threat only Kael can deliver without raising it.
Nolan clears his throat and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. “It’s not that. Professor Marris pulled me aside—she said they’re not planning to bind you again.”
I blink. “Then what do they want?”
Nolan shakes his head. “She didn’t say exactly. Just that there’s… another reason. And that it would be better if you came willingly.”
A bitter laugh slips out before I can stop it. “Oh, well then. That makes it so comforting.”
Kael takes a step forward, his body angling toward mine like he’s ready to shield me with all six feet of his unreadable, lethal calm. “They don’t get to ask anything of her.”
Tamsin scoffs. “Well, that ship may have already sailed. Word’s gotten out. About everything. The Council’s scramble to cover their asses is gonna be entertaining, but you better believe they’ll want you center stage to prove they meant well.”
“They didn’t,” I say, voice tight. “They left me in a cell and tried to erase who I am.”
“You fucked up that plan nicely,” Tamsin says proudly, flopping into Kael’s single chair like she owns the place. “Ten points to Team Lindsay.”
The corner of Kael’s mouth twitches, just barely, but his eyes are still hard. Focused on the door like he’s waiting for another knock. Another threat.
I swallow hard, pulse picking up again. “So what am I supposed to do? March back in there and thank them for not screwing me over a second time?”
Raiden shakes his head. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. But the longer we delay, the more they’ll try to control the narrative. Professor Marris thinks it would help if you showed strength.”
“They’ll spin it either way,” Kael mutters. “That’s what cowards in power do.”
I meet his gaze then, and for a second, I forget we’re not still tangled together in his bed. That I’m supposed to be furious, confused, on edge—and not slightly undone by the way he’s still standing there as though he’d fight the world to keep me safe.
“Then maybe we make our own narrative,” I say slowly, heat curling in my chest. “Maybe we show them that trying to bind me was their first mistake.”
Kael’s eyes darken, something fierce and quiet settling in. “I’ll stand with you.”
Raiden and Nolan both nod.
Tamsin grins. “Damn right we will.”