Chapter 1 #2
“Explain better,” I insist, shuddering from the emotional whiplash as my mind races. “How did you find me?”
“Find you?” Malach runs his fingers through his hair, his pearl-colored wings fluttering. “I’ve always known you were here. That unregistered gateway off realm? I made sure you found it. I’ve come back over the years to make sure you were safe, but things have changed, Celine. Your father—”
“Is trying to kill me,” I interrupt, wrapping my arms around myself and glancing in both directions. “I know that already.”
Malach arranging the gateway, though . . . That’s new information.
I think back, but my memories of that day are fogged by grief and fear.
I remember stumbling away from my father’s estate, vision blurry with tears, my heart screaming in agony.
At the time, finding the gateway unguarded, with the tracking technology switched off, seemed like fate—a lucky break after a lifetime of cruelty.
Did Malach help me leave him?
He stares down at me, green eyes swimming with gods know what.
“The guardians you killed here were under my command, Celine. They volunteered as a training exercise, knowing the risk. S’lach didn’t know where you were until yesterday.
” I flinch at hearing my father’s name spoken aloud, and Malach hangs his head.
“He planted a spy within my legion who evaded my security measures.”
The things Malach is telling me are the poisoned cherry on top of a toxic night.
I stumble away from him, forgetting my broken heel as my head spins. “Let me get this straight,” I say. “You’re telling me my dad wasn’t after me before, but he is now?”
Malach nods, his face too grimly earnest to belong to a liar. I can tell even without using my magic. My heart sinks, then sputters irregularly in my chest.
“Hey,” Luca says, lacing his fingers with mine and squeezing.
“There’s clearly a lot for you two to . .
. catch up on, but we’re not safe here. Those guardians are still in the street, and Alistair told everyone in the club that Ciprian is not only part of the enclave, but an heir.
Casanell could be sending a team after us as we speak, baby.
This is messy. We need to clean up and lie low. ”
Malach frowns at Luca, then nods, pursing his lips to whistle. A fluttering ribbon of gold magic leaves his mouth, hazy and smoke-like in the dim alley. It swirls in the air, gracefully looping twice before darting around the corner.
“What the fuck was that?” Luca demands.
“Still a showoff,” I grumble.
Malach spreads his arms. “If a man cannot use his talents to impress his betrothed here, we should choose another realm to reside.”
“I hate this.” Luca tugs his hand free from mine and shoves hair out of his eyes angrily. “Did he kill his own men? Most of them were only knocked out.”
I shake my head. “It’s a clean-up trick. Malach’s a glorified housekeeper.”
“Mess is distasteful.” Malach glances at Luca’s lip piercing deliberately, and I shoot him a warning look. If he thinks he’s off the hook for trying to have Luca and Alistair killed, he’s lost his godsdamned mind. I’m going to kick his ass for that. Then I’ll let Luca kick it again once I’m done.
I tense at the sound of shuffling, only relaxing somewhat as the remaining guardians stumble toward us, their eyes cast down.
Their motivation for that—whether to avoid Luca’s death stare or the curve of my ass—is anyone’s best guess, but they resemble scolded puppies.
Given who their boss is, their idiotic refusal to look at me in lingerie while attacking Luca makes perfect sense.
I can’t believe Malach has been checking in on me.
It’s been six years since I fled the celestial realm and left him behind.
Why can’t he cut me loose and move on? My younger self screams with rage, hating that idea, and I tell her to shut up.
She doesn’t get it. She has no idea the things we’ve had to do to survive.
“Go back to the base,” Malach orders the guardians in the common tongue. “I will return with my wife to her home.” Wait, what?
“Stop calling me that,” I snap, too distracted by the title at first to realize the bigger issue: his declaration that he’s coming home with me.
I should put a stop to this. I should send him away. I should—
“I will not stop,” Malach interrupts my train of thought, obstinate to a fault, even now, on turf where he couldn’t be more out of place if he tried. “And you won’t ask it of me unless you intend to formally rescind your vows.”
Fuck me; I forgot. About his sincerity. How the simplest of words from him always sounded like promises. Time made my memories hazy, and now they’re rushing in—sharper than ever—to hack through my defenses.
My stomach leaps to my throat, then dives. Physically, I’m standing in an alley, balancing on a broken heel. Mentally, I’m free-falling off a cliff and plunging into ice water, only to be dragged away by a current I’m not strong enough to escape. Emotionally . . . Fuck, I can’t even go there.
So I retreat, kicking myself for my cowardice even as I back away on my wobbly, busted stiletto. Damn shoe—I feel just like it—ornamental and a godsdamned liability.
“I am here to prove that I, too, am worthy to stand at your side.” Malach’s eyes beg me to understand. “I seek your judgment, Celine, and yours alone.”
I want to stop him. It’s all I can do not to cover my ears. Doesn’t he know his whispered words are tearing me to pieces?
My skin pebbles, and my wings wrap around me protectively as I resign myself to the inevitable pain that having Malach in my life again will bring. Because he won’t stay. And I won’t go back.
He looks away, and a flicker of intuition brings my itch roaring back to life. “There’s more, isn’t there?” I whisper. “You still haven’t explained the kids.”
“I will tell you once we’re safe,” Malach murmurs, glancing at Luca while avoiding eye contact. “As your shifter said, we’re exposed.”
Sighing, I lead them back to the Fang, my heel dragging through grime until it’s as dirty as the other broken things in this alley.
My mind races, each thought worse than the last: Malach is here.
Ciprian is a fraud. Alistair is cruel. Luca is angry.
And I don’t have a clue how I’m going to bring order to this mess.