Chapter Thirty-Nine #3
Without a word, Yuri unfurled his wings and gave the space next to him a pat. “You can sleep with me.” The suddenness of the words surprised even him, but once Aurelie’s eyes met his, he refused to look away.
He told himself he was doing this because they were bonded. Because she was mortal and exhausted, and needed help that only he could offer.
But that couldn’t explain why his skin was so hot or why his body tensed at the thought of her beside him, feeling as jittery as a young boy.
Calm yourself, Yuri. It’s just the bond.
Aurelie’s eyes narrowed, as surprised by the offer as he was.
“Are you certain?” she asked, and Yuri nodded, ignoring the burn of Severin’s stare picking him apart. He reached a hand out for her, pulling Aurelie into his lap when she took it.
Gingerly, she leaned back against his chest.
Light help me. Control yourself, Yuri.
The warmth of her, real and solid against him, struck with more force than it should have. Her skin was chilled, and he ached to warm it beneath his own.
He eased them both down, keeping one wing curled forward as a shield against the wind and Severin’s sharp view. Aurelie moved stiffly at first, her fingers bunching in the folds of her skirt as she tried not to press too close.
He guided her to lie beside him so her back was to his chest, one of his arms beneath her, the other settling lightly over her waist.
“Severin isn’t very happy about this,” she said, nervousness tightening their bond.
“Good.” He pulled her closer. “It’s about time he remembered that he’s not your only bonded.”
Yuri wasn’t prepared for the feel of her. Wasn’t prepared for how neatly she fit against him, or the way her hair brushed against his collarbone with every breath. Her body was soft where his wasn’t, her warmth unfamiliar in a way that made his throat tight.
He let his hand rest where it was, fingers splayed against her side. He could feel the shape of her hip beneath the fabric. The slow, steady draw of her breath. The way her shoulder dipped into him.
Light, why was it so maddening?
Aurelie’s breathing hitched, sharp and uncertain. But she didn’t move away.
“I’ve been meaning to ask,” she whispered, “did you always know you’d become my bonded?”
“I found out only hours before the ceremony.”
“Hours?” She twisted to look at him over her shoulder, and her face was far closer than he’d expected. Her breath brushed his collarbone, and never had he felt more in danger than he did at that moment.
So this is what it feels like.
It was his duty to ensure that his bonded remained safe. That she was at her best at all times.
But this was more than just fulfilling his role. This was a hunger he’d never imagined he’d succumb to.
Yuri had always believed himself better than temptation, iron against its pull. So why couldn’t he shake the burn of this desire?
“So this is all new for you,” she murmured, more to herself than to him. “Did you even want it?”
He wanted a lot of things right now.
“To be chosen is an honor.” He recited the line as he had been taught it, years of conditioning buried in one clean sentence. “I didn’t ask for it, but I accepted it.”
“So no, then. You didn’t want it.”
Stubborn girl.
His jaw tensed. “Living in the mortal realm was never something I sought out, no. I believe this assignment was a punishment of sorts.”
“What do you mean?”
He didn’t answer right away. Regret burned in his chest, the truth sour on his tongue.
“I have much to atone for, Aurelie. I believe this is either where I’m meant to begin, or where I’ll fail.”
The wind howled through the trees, yet in their cocoon, their bodies pressed close and their breaths mingling, it was warm.
Her fingers brushed gently across his wrist, the touch featherlight. “Then we shall fly or fall together.”
His lips twitched in spite of himself. “Our record of success isn’t exactly shining.”
She laughed, and the sound punched straight through his carefully built armor. It lodged deep into a place he’d believed long since sealed.
Her body eased against his. She was tired. He could feel it in the bond, in the way her thoughts grew soft at the edges, blurred by exhaustion.
“Sleep,” he told her. “Sleep, and worry for nothing. I’ll take care of you.”
“I know you will,” she said, surprising him yet again as she pressed her face into the crook of his arm. “Good night, Yuriel.”
He swallowed, heat creeping up his neck. “Good night.”
He felt it happen gradually—the weight of her body settling deeper into his, her muscles uncoiling as the last of her tension bled out. Her emotions dimmed through the bond, retreating like a tide. Not gone, but softened at the edges. Dreamlike.
She was asleep, and he was left holding her, wondering how something so quiet could unravel him so completely.
Azriel had been right. It didn’t matter how much work he’d put in, or how closely he’d followed his oaths. This bond was nothing Yuri could have prepared for.
For all the years he’d dedicated to being the perfect Soldier, the angel was being felled by a mortal woman.
And there wasn’t a single thing he could do to stop it.