3. Rami
Rami
Less than a heartbeat passed, but it was long enough for me to take everything in.
My mate sprawled across the concrete.
His pulse erratic and weak, barely discernible, even to my ears.
The unnatural angle of his body, suggesting a broken back.
Blood flowing freely from a wound on his head. His already red hair turning darker.
The deathly pallor of his skin, the only colour coming from the freckles dusted across his nose and cheekbones.
The bus, stopped mere feet away, the driver looking on in horror.
I crashed to the ground beside him so hard that the tarmac dented under my knees. Panic surged through me even as my power swelled. So much was wrong. His injuries were taking him from me with every heartbeat.
I wouldn’t allow it.
This man was mine.
Death could not have him.
“Hold on,” I whispered as tears filled my eyes. A flicker of my power sheathed us in a compulsion net, making everyone forget that they’d seen an angel appear. An angel who was weeping over a stranger. “Hold on, please. Please.”
I laid my hands on him, careful not to jostle him. Then, I let the cresting wave of power break free. I didn’t bother to focus on individual injuries. There was no time for that. No, I just unleashed everything I had. There was no finesse, no thought, aside from saving him.
My mate.
My mate.
His blood seeped over my fingers and I blinked to keep my vision clear.
More power surged. More. More.
I sucked in a breath.
It was working.
I was healing him.
Relief washed through me. My powers had never failed me before, but I’d never needed them to work as badly as I did in this moment.
There was no point in prayer. God rarely granted miracles to humans on the brink of death. And if she did?
I was the angel she’d send.
Beneath my hands, I felt my mate’s back straighten. His breathing steadied as his pulse strengthened. The dripping blood slowed and then stopped completely.
I continued pushing my power through him. He might be healed, but I didn’t want so much as a scratch marring his beautiful skin when he awoke.
And fuck, was he beautiful.
Not wanting him to wake on the hard concrete, I gently eased him into my arms. With his vital signs returning to normal, I allowed myself to take him in properly.
He was tall and slender, with a build like a runner.
Nowhere near my height, but almost no one was.
My stomach churned as I eyed his hair more closely.
When not matted with blood, I suspected it was delightfully curly.
His full lips parted on a low moan as his long eyelashes flickered against his cheeks. I finally allowed my power to return to me, and exhaustion unlike anything I’d experienced before came with it. I paid it no heed. I didn’t even know this man’s name, but I knew he was mine.
It was enough to have me ready to sacrifice everything.
Colour returned to his cheeks as he continued to stir. He blinked once. Twice.
And I found myself sinking into captivating pools of green.
“Hello,” he said, a little breathlessly. God, his voice sounded like music. I wanted to hear more of it. All the time. “Wow. You’re really hot.”
I laughed, even as my chest puffed up at the compliment. “Thank you.”
“Oh fuck.” He clapped a hand to his face, eyes wide in horror. “Did I say that out loud?”
“You did.” I was still grinning. “But feel free to stay on the same topic. I’m happy to return all and any compliments given.”
I was almost giddy. This man was my mate. Mine.
His eyes darted to the bus, the colour his cheeks had regained leeching away again. “Shit. I’m dead, aren’t I?”
“Not today,” I said, keeping him in my arms. Or any day now that I’ve met you.
“I must be.” My mate’s gaze moved to linger on my spread wings. “You don’t look like the Grim Reaper. Definitely too hot to be him.”
I thought of Ferry and sighed. “Don’t believe everything you hear. I’ve met him and he’s unfairly attractive.”
My mate shook his head, looking a little punch-drunk. If I had to guess, I’d say he was in shock.
“He is?”
“Yep. But I like to think I’m hotter.”
He bit his lip as his gaze roved over my face. “I can see why.”
I chuckled. Every bit of the darkness that had been dogging me for the last few months had lifted now that my mate was safe in my arms. “I’m glad you think so.”
Suddenly, he bolted upright. “Shit, I am dead, aren’t I? You’re an angel. You must be, what with those…things.”
I smirked. “Wings?”
“That’s the word. Oh fuck, how can I die now? This isn’t fair.”
“You’re not dead,” I said again, but the words didn’t seem to register.
“This wasn’t the plan,” he said mournfully, staring at my wings again.
“And how the fuck did I get into Heaven? Was there not a vetting process? I definitely wouldn’t have passed it if there was.
Oh crap, who else is there? Please tell me I’m not going to be rubbing shoulders with my great-aunt Gertrude. ”
Fuck, he was adorable. “Great-aunt Gertrude?”
“Miserable old bat,” he said by way of answer. “Never missed a chance to criticise everyone around her. Been dead years now, thank fuck.” He clapped a hand over his mouth, his eyes like saucers. “See? That’s the kind of shit that should mean I’m going somewhere…ya know, warmer.”
I recoiled at the very thought of him in Hell. “That’ll never happen.”
He might not know it, but his life span had just extended by several millennia. Or it would, once I marked him as mine. Something I intended to do immediately.
Right after I learned his name.
“You’re not dead,” I continued, firmer this time. “You were in an accident, but you’re alive and well.”
“The bus…” he said slowly, his gaze finding it again over my shoulder. “Fuck, I walked right out in front of it.”
I winced, fighting the urge to wrap my arms tighter around him. Baby steps, Rami. You might know he’s your destiny, but he can’t say the same about you. “You did?”
“I was a bit distracted.” He gave me a sheepish smile that faded rapidly. “How am I okay? I feel…fine. Better than fine, even. How is that possible?”
I went to answer him, but he shrugged out of my grip and stumbled upright. “And how is that you have wings? Either that’s the world’s most convincing costume, I’m dead, or I’m in a coma.”
I got to my feet slowly. “You’re not dead or in a coma.”
His eye twitched. “Costume?”
I smiled softly. “’Fraid not.”
I pulled my wings in tight but didn’t compel them away. I wanted my mate to know all of me, upfront. “I’m an angel. An archangel, to be specific. And you’re uninjured because I, well, healed you.”
He swayed slightly on the spot. My hands twitched, ready to catch him if needed.
“I’m sorry. Can you say all that again? I think I’m hallucinating.”
“Let’s sit down.” I steered him to a nearby bench.
All around us, the crowd bustled to life.
The bus driver drove off, undisturbed by the blood on his windshield.
He’d clean it off later, believing he’d hit a pigeon.
Pedestrians waited patiently to cross, while cars dodged the potholes I’d inadvertently added to the road.
Not a single soul aside from the two of us knew that anything untoward had happened.
“This is a bit much,” my mate whispered, staring at the bus disappearing into the distance. “Did the driver not even think to check that I was okay? I mean, I am. I think I am. Am I?”
“You are.” I smiled at him again, settling onto the bench beside him. “How about we start over? Hi, my name’s Rami.”
He eyed my hand cautiously before sliding his into it. I sucked in a breath as our skin connected, my nerve endings tracing every point of contact. My hand practically swallowed his, which was apt. I wanted to wrap all of myself around him, just to keep him safe.
Then he spoke the name that would forever be carved on my very soul. “Ethan. Ethan Routliff.”
Ethan. It was perfect. He was perfect. My mate was here. Right next to me. I could reach out and touch him.
I couldn’t quite believe it. Or how close I’d come to losing him.
Thank fuck I was in his life now. Never again would he be in this situation.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I said, my voice practically a purr. My hand lingered on his far longer than was polite, but I couldn’t bear to let him go yet. “I’m sorry it was under such stressful circumstances.”
“About that…” Ethan broke our grip to rub his hands together.
I didn’t know what I disliked more—that he wasn’t touching me, or his evident discomfort.
Scratch that, I knew the answer. Anything that was making this man uncomfortable wasn’t okay with me.
“What exactly happened here? What’s going on? ”
“It’s a lot to take in.” I remembered how Sam had struggled. Benji had had to compel him before he’d been able accept it, something that’d had unexpected and terrifying consequences. “To cut a long story short, all the supernatural beings humans talk about? Well, we all exist.”
“What?” Ethan said faintly. “So you’re really an…angel?”
I inclined my head. “Indeed.”
“What about demons? Vampires? Werewolves?”
“Yep, yep, and yep,” I said, before reconsidering my answer. “Although technically they’re wolf shifters, not werewolves. Plus, there’s bears, big cats, dragons…all sorts of shifters, really. Witches and mages exist too.”
“Oh dear.” Ethan dropped his head into his hands. “This has to be one of those side effects. I’m going to have to call the ward.”
My brow furrowed. Side effects? Ward? What was he talking about?
Before I could question him on it, he exhaled and sat up abruptly. “Okay, let’s say I’m humouring you for a minute. How did you save me?”
I fought the urge to reach out and take his hand in mine again. “I have healing powers. I used them to save you.”
“Do all angels have those?”
“No.” I gave him a lazy half grin. “Guess you could say I’m one of a kind.”
Ethan’s cheeks flushed, and fuck, I wanted to see how far over him it spread. What I could say and do to make him turn this adorable shade. “And you just happened to be here when it happened?”