Angel Shifters 3 Angel's Blade Erin M Leaf

Evernight Publishing

www.evernightpublishing.com

ISBN: 978-1-77130-719-2

Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

Editor: JS Cook

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No
part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission,
except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual
events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

To the one who loves me unconditionally.

ANGEL’S BLADE

Angel Shifters, 3

Erin M. Leaf

Chapter One

Zeke stood in front of Castle Archangel, shivering. February was not his favorite month of the

year. Ice slicked the sides of the stone steps leading up to the front doors, dark and ominous in the
fading light. He sighed and hefted his pack a little higher, careful not to poke himself with the sword
hilt sticking up out of the top of the battered canvas. He’d shrugged on his leather jacket a few miles
down the road, but it didn’t help much with the cold. Winter still had its hands around the throat of the
land and no mere angel was enough to fight that demon’s grip.

He’d flown for hours on this last trip. Or rather, days. Years. His shoulders ached from the

long, desperate journey. He’d begun his northward trek a week ago, but he hadn’t expected it to be so
brutal. His wings looked worn when he’d shifted back into human—proof that he’d come too far in
too short a time. He ran a hand over his face, trying to shove down the loneliness that followed him
everywhere. It didn’t work. He was alone, as he was always alone now, even in the midst of others.
A solitary angel, looking down at the earth and wishing for some sort of peace.

Since his family had faded into the mist, he’d become the last of the great angel weapons

masters, not that his skill with blade and will was much use these days. He could shape metal with his
mind, create weapons of heartrending beauty and menace, but as soon as his creations hit mortal
ground, they shattered. He’d been forced to learn human methods to create ordinary blades. He was
nothing more than a blacksmith, a skilled craftsman whose anachronistic trade meant little to anyone
except himself.

“Because you are weak,” he murmured to himself. “Some angel you are.” The cold wind

snatched his words away. Zeke glared up at the castle, still not certain coming here was the right thing
to do. He’d heard that his distant cousin, Gabriel, had finally killed Samael, their leader, but he was
afraid to believe in good news anymore. He’d lost his mother, his father, and his grandparents to
despair. He’d watched them fade before his very eyes, their bodies going grey as they let themselves
drift into the clouds, more mist than thunder.

It had been worse than death, witnessing that. Worse than anything. He didn’t think he could

handle the memories anymore. He’d come here to fight and maybe die in service to God. If the rumors
were false and Samael killed him, so be it. He couldn’t be solitary anymore. He couldn’t bear it.

His arms twitched as his mind ran in circles, the muscles telling him it was time to get out of the

cold. He was going to be sore from walking on the ground in winter, but truth was, he’d needed the
time to clear his head. For some reason, flying shoved all his worries and isolation into the front of

his head, tormenting him with his lack of family and clan. When he flew, he felt powerful and blessed,
but he couldn’t help looking around for his family in the skies. Every single time he saw nothing but
empty blue infinity, it hurt like a dagger stuck in his heart. Every single time.

“So stop staring and get moving. You have no reason to linger here,” he told himself, looking

down and away from all the windows. The setting sun fell behind the castle, casting it into a stark
silhouette, harsh and unforgiving. He shivered again, then forced himself up the stone steps.

“You want me to come with you? Seriously?” Nathaniel asked, surprised enough to almost drop

the wet dish in his hands. He quickly put it in the drying rack.

His father nodded from the kitchen stove, stirring vegetables into the stew. Outside, rain lashed

the windows, but neither man noticed. Rain was the norm for Corvallis, Oregon, in February.

“You’re my son. Of course I want you to come with me,” Orifiel said, putting the lid on the pot

and turning down the heat. The dim light filtering in through the window over the sink made his grey
eyes seem even lighter than usual.

Nathaniel looked away from his father’s too-wise gaze. “I’m human. Not like you.” He shook

his head, still confused. “Why would you want me to come meet the new Alpha of the angels?”

His father frowned. “You’re still my son, even if you have no wings.” He crossed his arms,

highlighting the legacy marks that trailed up his arms like a tattoo.

Nathaniel stared at the marks. He knew they travelled over his father’s shoulders and down his

back, but they were simply the small, outward signs of his father’s heritage. The thing that set Orifiel
truly apart was his ability to shift those marks into huge wings and take to the skies. With the ease of
long practice, Nathaniel stifled the tiny spark of envy he felt as he looked at those marks. He couldn’t
fly. He held no inherited legacy. He was merely human, thanks to his mother. And you’re okay with
that, he told himself, not for the first time. He’d loved his mother dearly, and so had his father, right
up until the day she’d died three years ago from breast cancer.

“We’ll have to take a plane,” Nathaniel said slowly, pushing his bleak thoughts aside. “And you

hate flying in planes. I don’t want to put you through that.”

Orifiel grimaced. “True, but I’ll manage. It’s not that terrible a thing.”
“I don’t see what you’re hoping to prove by bringing me with you. You’ll only offend the new

Alpha.” Nathaniel began to set the table. It didn’t take long. Only the two of them were eating tonight.
He had no siblings, and though his father was their small clan’s leader, the others tended to leave
them alone unless they were having a clan gathering.

“I don’t think Gabriel is as easily offended as all that,” his father remarked, pulling out a chair

and sitting down.

Nathaniel sighed. “Dad, I have a hard enough time with the clan here. I don’t want to screw

things up for you with the rest of the angels, too.” He pulled out a chair and sat down too, fooling with
the napkins until they were folded just right. He adjusted the spoons and butter knives until they were
perfectly aligned.

“If the new Alpha can’t deal with you, then I will know I want nothing to do with him,” Orifiel

said mildly. “It will be a useful trip regardless of the outcome.”

“So you’re… what? Using me to figure out what kind of man Gabriel is?” Nathaniel rubbed his

eyes. “That’s a bit manipulative. It isn’t like you, Dad.”

Orifiel laughed, leaning back in his chair. “I didn’t become clan leader here because of my

good looks, Nathaniel. You’re coming with us. That’s final.”

Nathaniel rolled his eyes. “Dad, I’m gay. I’m half-black, thanks to mom. And I can’t fly. I’m

neither human nor angel. I am the very definition of interracial. Or to put it even more bluntly, I’m an
inter-species hybrid. That doesn’t really go over well with anyone. I think you’re trying to cause
trouble for no good reason.” He tapped a finger on the table. “What if I said I’m not comfortable
being used like that?”

Orifiel sat up. “You’re just as much angel as I am, regardless of your skin color or sexuality.”

he said intensely. “And flight is a genetic fluke, not the determining factor regarding who is angelic
and who is not. God works in mysterious ways.”

“Oh please, don’t use that cliché on me.” Nathaniel pursed his lips and stared at his father,

thinking hard. “Who else is coming?”

“Raguel and Maion,” his father answered immediately.
Nathaniel blinked, then burst out laughing. “You’re trying to kill two birds with one stone. You

clever, clever angel.”

Orifiel smiled and leaned back again. “Now who’s throwing clichés around?”
Nathaniel shook his head, still smiling. “Bringing Maion—that makes sense. He’s my best

friend. And he’s one of your strongest supporters. But Raguel hates me. You’re just doing this to drive
him crazy.” Nathaniel thought about the man who’d been his tormentor since they were children. “He
can’t stand the fact that I’m gay, your son, and that I took after my human mother. He regards it as
infecting the angels with mortal soil.”

“And that’s precisely why he’s coming. If he could just get past his unreasonable prejudice,

he’d make a good angel,” Orifiel said as he stood up and checked on the stew. “He needs to learn
how to accept that God has plans for us, and those plans don’t include allowing bigotry in our midst.”

Nathaniel sat up, thinking hard. “You believe Samael’s death is a sign, don’t you?”
Orifiel switched off the stove and carried the stew to the table, carefully setting it down on the

iron trivet in the center of the old wood. “Of course. How can it not be?” he asked, sitting down and
dishing food onto Nathaniel’s plate.

Nathaniel watched his father for a long moment. “I don’t know, Dad.”
“Samael was evil. We all knew it, but none of us were strong enough to stop him.”
“Until Gabriel,” Nathaniel said.
“Until Gabriel,” Orifiel agreed. “He saved us. He saved the angels from their long, slow

decline and made us into what we need to be.”

“And what precisely is that?” Nathaniel asked, toying with his spoon. He didn’t look at his

father directly. Sometimes Orifiel offered more answers when he didn’t feel like he was being
pressured.

“Warriors of God,” Orifiel replied softly.
A sudden chill ran down Nathaniel’s spine. “Warriors?” He frowned, not liking the direction of

his father’s thoughts. “I’m human, Dad. I’m not a warrior.”

Orifiel looked at him, eyes direct and sure. “You will be.”
****
When the large wooden door opened, Gabriel was the last person Zeke expected to see on the

other side of the threshold.

“Gabriel,” he began to say, then had to clear his throat. It had been so long since he’d seen

another angel, he felt suddenly terrified. If his cousin turned him away…

“Zeke!” Gabriel’s face broke into a wide grin. “Dear God, what are you doing here?” he asked,

stepping back and opening the door more. “Come in out of the cold. Why didn’t you tell us you’d be
coming for a visit?”

Zeke stood in the cold, unable to move. How did he explain that he wasn’t just visiting? How

could he make that final step into the warmth and light, when he’d been so cold for so long?

“Gabriel? What are you doing letting out all the warm air? You know how much energy it takes

to heat this mausoleum.” Gabriel’s sister, Ariel, came striding up. When her eyes landed on Zeke, she
fell silent, mouth opening in surprise.

“Hello, cousins,” Zeke said, voice rough. He deliberately chose to call them kin, in order to

remind them that he was part of their clan, if not their family. He hoped they’d understand and not kick
him into the cold for his presumption. He had little hope that they’d remember him from the few times
their grandparents visited his, bringing the children together.

“Ezekiel! Oh my God,” Ariel exclaimed, then she flung herself at him, wrapping her arms

tightly over his stiff leather. “Why are you just standing there? Come inside, where it’s warm.”

Zeke blinked, tentatively hugging her back. He struggled to act normal, but he’d never expected

them to welcome him so kindly. He thought he’d have to beg.

“Come on,” she said again, letting go and dragging him through the doors unceremoniously.

“You must be freezing!” She grabbed his hand. “Hell, you are freezing.”

He glanced at Gabriel, feeling dull with cold and disbelief. His cousin looked back steadily.

Zeke saw nothing but compassion on his Gabriel’s face. No anger, no recriminations. Zeke frowned,
even as he let Ariel pull him into the light. He didn’t want pity. He wanted a home.

“You’re going to scare him away if you keep shrieking like that, Ariel,” Gabriel finally said,

almost as if he understood exactly what Zeke was feeling. He swung the huge front door shut and
smiled, all traces of pity disappearing. “It’s been a hell of a long time, cousin.”

Zeke swallowed, hard. “It has.”
“Take off your pack and your jacket. Did you eat?” Ariel tugged at him.
Zeke couldn’t help himself. He let her drag him through the foyer that had always intimidated

him as a child and off through a side door. To his surprise, they ended up in the kitchen where two
men sat bickering amiably over a table set with the remains of dinner. Zeke’s stomach rumbled. The
men left off their argument and stared as Ariel dragged Zeke into the room.

The smaller of the two men stared for a heartbeat, then stood up slowly, his light blue eyes

bright with something more than just the reflected light from the chandelier.

“Set down your burdens and know that you’ve come home, Ezekiel,” the man said, reaching out

his hand and sweeping it across the room.

Zeke frowned. How did he know his name? “Do I know you?” He asked uncertainly. He’d met

so many people in his travels he couldn’t be sure he hadn’t met this person before. What was this
angel doing welcoming him to Castle Archangel when Gabriel was supposed to be Alpha? Was
Samael still alive? God, he hoped not.

Gabriel came up behind him. “Zeke, meet Raphael, our Omega,” he said formally.
Omega? Zeke glanced at his cousin, confused. Overwhelmed. “A true Omega?”
Gabriel smiled. “Omega and mate to the new Alpha.”
It took a few long seconds, but then Zeke suddenly understood. The rumors were true. His

cousin, the new Alpha, had just told him that he was gay. Zeke took a deep breath, heart hammering in
his chest with relief. He didn’t give a damn if his cousin was gay or Alpha or anything. He just
wanted to be allowed to stay. He turned back to Raphael and smiled, then held out his hand. “I’m very
happy to meet you, Omega.”

Raphael smiled as if he hadn’t doubted Zeke’s reaction for a moment, and shook his hand

firmly. “Call me Raphael. I can’t deal with the Omega thing all the time. It gets silly.”

Zeke understood. Raphael didn’t want anything that distanced himself from the others. No true

Omega wanted that, because that kind of distance kept the angel’s healer from truly understanding
what healing was needed. “Of course, Raphael. Please call me Zeke,” he said, voice only shaking a
little. “My grandfather was Ezekiel.”

Raphael nodded. The man he’d been arguing with had stood up and walked closer. “This is my

brother, Suriel.”

Zeke held out his hand. Suriel shook it firmly. A tiny spark of something pricked at Zeke and the

muscles along the back of his hand twitched as he let go. “Nice to meet you.”

“I’m a sorcerer. Sorry about the little buzz,” Suriel said, sounding sheepish. “Sometimes it

builds up and I don’t notice. Like static electricity.”

“A sorcerer? That’s impossible. I thought that was a myth?” Zeke asked, glancing at Gabriel for

confirmation.

“It’s true,” Ariel said, smiling. “Suriel is a sorcerer and my mate. I’m a sorceress, now, as

well.”

Zeke looked from Ariel to the man he’d just met, not sure if he should believe them. “My little

cousin, a sorceress?”

She nodded, sliding her arm around Suriel’s waist. “Truth.”
Zeke almost closed his eyes, the relief and joy that swept through him were so strong. “This is

good news, indeed.”

“No need to be so formal, Zeke.” Gabriel clapped him on the shoulder. “Take off your pack, sit

down. We have cake tonight.”

“Cake and warmth and family,” Zeke murmured, sliding the straps of his beat up canvas pack

down his arms. “I’m truly blessed this moment.”

Gabriel took his pack from him, looking at the sword only a moment, then he set it aside, near

the door. “Sit. Have a drink.”

“Where have you been, Zeke?” Ariel said, leading him to the table. “We feared you’d gone

forever.”

He didn’t even know where to start. “After my family faded, I travelled. I never really

stopped.”

“Ten years?” Ariel sounded shocked.
Zeke shrugged and sat down. “What else was I supposed to do? Samael was in charge. I had no

family.”

“We were still your family,” Gabriel said, sitting down near him.
“You were a boy. I was not.” He shouldn’t have to explain this to Gabriel.
“Our parents would have taken you in,” Ariel said, sliding her hand into her mate’s.
“I was grown. What would there have been for me to do here?” Zeke ran a hand along the

table’s edge. The wood was warm. Welcoming. “It was time for me to find my own way, hard as that
was.”

“And did you?” Gabriel asked, cutting another piece of cake. He handed it to his mate and

Raphael set it down in front of Zeke.

“I found out that the world is much larger than I thought,” Zeke said, taking the fork Ariel

passed to him. Just before he slipped a piece of cake into his mouth, he noticed Suriel studying him.
“What are you looking at?”

Suriel lifted a shoulder. “A very weary angel.”
Zeke smiled around the first piece of cake he’d had in years. “Truth.”

“Whose sword do you carry?” Suriel asked, glancing at the pack near the door.
Zeke swallowed the sugary dessert and put the fork down. He hadn’t tasted anything so divine

in years. “The sword is mine, but it’s flawed.”

“How so?”
“Every blade I create shatters with use. I can make a human weapon, using human technology,

with little difficulty, but when I use the techniques my father taught me, nothing goes right.” Zeke hated
to say these words. They tasted like ashes in his mouth. He’d wanted to come here and offer his
talents, but he had nothing worth giving to these angels.

“You know how to make angelic weapons?” Raphael asked, surprise in his voice. “I thought

we’d lost that art.”

Zeke shook his head. “It is lost. I know everything my father and grandfather knew, but at the

final moment, the blades shatter.” He sighed and pushed the plate of cake away. Seemed a shame to
waste it, but he couldn’t eat now. Not when he had to admit his failure to the only family he had left.
He looked at Gabriel. His cousin watched him steadily, face neutral. No hint of what he was thinking
showed. Zeke gathered the last of his courage and said what he’d come all this way, after all this
time, to say. “I come to beg a place as one of your guard, Alpha.” Instead of waiting to see what
Gabriel would say, he bowed his head and put a fist to his heart.

Several long heart-stopping moments later, Gabriel replied. “Of course you may stay. But,

Zeke, we live in dangerous times. Demons walk among us once more.”

Zeke glanced up. “Demons have always walked among us.”
“We fought to close two portals these past several months. One of them was in the depths of

Castle Archangel itself,” Ariel offered quietly. “Do you really want to stay, knowing that it isn’t safe
here?”

She didn’t understand. None of them did. He’d already faced demons inside his own mind and

lived to fly out the other side. “I would rather die here, at your side, protecting you than go into the
wilderness again, alone. I have nothing left.” He sensed them exchange glances.

“You can have your grandfather’s old chamber,” Gabriel finally said.
A tension Zeke didn’t even know he carried eased inside him. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me, Zeke.” Gabriel laughed shortly. “As of now, you’re my guard captain,

weapons master, and weapons maker.”

Zeke looked up. “Captain?”
“Do you know how to use the blades you make?” Gabriel asked.
“Of course.” Zeke didn’t understand. Gabriel already knew his father had taught him everything,

including the martial arts of the angels. Why ask him a question to which he already knew the answer?

Ariel laughed. “You don’t get it, do you Zeke?”
He shook his head. Maybe the warmth and the sugar were getting to him, but he failed to see

what was so amusing. All of them were smiling.

“By the time Samael died, the angels who had been guards had either left, faded, or died. We

have a bare-bones council, a few of the older folk to advise us, and we have younger angels,
teenagers, living here. That’s it. You’re the only other mature angel here at the castle,” Raphael
explained quietly. “There are clans of angels scattered across the country, but here, in the heart of our
people’s ancestral home, there is only us.”

“Died?” Zeke whispered, disturbed. “Your parents?”
Ariel nodded sadly. “Our mother lives, as does Suriel and Raphael’s, but the rest of the men,

those who supported Samael as well as his most outspoken opponents, either died or faded. Our

people have been slowly disappearing, as if God has taken their souls back. Are you sure you want to
stay with us?”

Zeke stood up, feeling suddenly certain. More certain than he had felt in the last ten years. “I am

sure. I have nowhere else to go. And if I am needed, well, how can I refuse my strength to your aid? It
is what I wanted, anyway.”

“Then stay, and be most welcome,” Raphael said quietly. “We are happy to have you.”
Zeke nodded, his heart hammering in his chest. Their words had the taste of ritual to them, as of

old, when angels did not lightly commit themselves to a cause. “I won’t let you down,” he murmured,
needing to speak the promise aloud. He bowed his head. Honor and strength were all he had left to
offer his People. He hoped Gabriel understood that. When he looked up again, his cousin’s face had
smoothed into a sort of pained neutrality, as if he were hiding too much regret and pain to truly be
calm.

“I know you won’t, Zeke,” the Alpha said.

Chapter Two

“I hate flying in these things,” Orifiel muttered, hands clenched on the seat handles.
Nathaniel smiled. “You could have flown yourself to New York. I wouldn’t have minded

meeting you there.”

His father shook his head. “No. Raguel needs to learn humility.”
“Ha. Good luck with that,” Nathaniel said, staring across the aisle. His best friend, Maion,

smirked at him, then went back to tormenting Raguel. He fiddled with the air blower above them until
both of the little plastic dials blew onto the other angel. Raguel angrily turned off the air, then glared
at Nathaniel’s father as if Maion’s childishness was his fault, but Orifiel didn’t even look over. He
switched his angry gaze to Nathaniel.

Nathaniel smiled sweetly at him, debating whether he should throw him a kiss. He didn’t know

why Maion was being so difficult, suddenly, and that bothered him more than Raguel’s sullen attitude.

“Don’t you dare,” his father murmured.
“What?”
“I know you want to wink at Raguel or something. Don’t do it. I don’t need him storming around

on a jet filled with humans. Just let it go.” Oriphiel didn’t even open his eyes as he delivered his little
admonition.

“But he makes it so easy,” Nathaniel said, smiling as he leaned his head back against the seat.

“And I thought you wanted him to learn how to be more open-minded?”

“I don’t think goading him into losing his temper on a plane is the best way to begin his lesson.

You’ll have plenty of opportunities to torment him once we land. You can wait until we land,” his
father replied.

Nathaniel snorted. “I don’t believe in miracles, Dad. If he actually manages to not be an ass for

five minutes, I’ll be amazed.”

At that, his father opened his eyes and gave him a very direct look.
Nathaniel, twenty-five years old and very much his own man, squirmed. “Seriously, Dad. Don’t

give me that look.”

“God works in mysterious ways,” Orifiel finally said, hand over his heart melodramatically.
Nathaniel groaned. “The cliché generator strikes again.”
His dad just smiled and closed his eyes. Nathaniel shook his head and settled in for a nap, but

not before he blew Raguel a kiss.

****
When Nathaniel pulled the car around the oval driveway in front of Castle Archangel, he could

hardly keep himself from gawking. He’d traveled quite a bit in the last five years, heading out to
cities and rural areas along the west coast on assignments as a journalist, so he’d seen a lot of
buildings. However, the castle of the angels looked like something out of legend: hard grey rock
rising above the white landscape like a fist against the sky. A tower decorated the south-west side of
the building. The front had windows set into the stone, like faceted jewels. Right now, they glittered
warm and golden against the cool silver twilight. As the car ticked in the cold, he stared for a
moment, trying to take it all in.

“Are you going to stare at the place all night?” Raguel asked peevishly. He was already

opening his car door. “I’m freezing. Let get inside.”

Nathaniel sighed and set the emergency brake. By the time the plane had landed, he’d felt like

strangling Raguel. His little wink to the other man had backfired, big time. Raguel hadn’t taken his
little joke well and began a campaign of insults and sly insinuations that had put Nathaniel on edge for
hours. Raguel had a seemingly inexhaustible capacity for cruelty. He wondered if maybe his dad had
meant for Raguel to teach him a lesson, too, except Nathaniel had learned patience long ago. When
you’re the only half-human, half-angel in your clan, you got used to subtle shunning. Raguel had
nothing left to teach Nathaniel at this point.

“You ready?” he asked his dad instead of punching Raguel in the face. The other angel was

already walking up the stone steps He really should have waited for my dad, his clan leader,
Nathaniel thought, pressing his lips together to keep back the angry words he wanted to say.

His dad smiled, knowing exactly what he was thinking. “I am. Are you?”
Nathaniel opened the door and stretched the kinks out of his neck. “This is your show, not

mine,” he said when his dad followed him from the cozy warmth of the car into the crisp, winter air.

Orifiel shrugged. “As my son, your behavior will reflect on our clan.”
“Raguel’s behavior will reflect on our clan, too,” Maion said, walking up to them with a bag in

each hand. “And since he’s an asshole, I’m a little bit worried about that. Just my opinion.”

“Raguel’s actions will reflect more on himself than on us, you’ll see,” Orifiel said.
Maion eyed his leader skeptically. While his friend was distracted, Nathaniel moved to take his

pack. Maion danced out of reach, obviously not that distracted. “Oh no you don’t. You’re our clan
leader’s son. No carrying bags for you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Nathaniel said, grabbing his backpack. “I’m not even a full angel. I’m

not going to impress anybody.”

Maion raised an eyebrow, but didn’t fight him for the bag. “Uh-huh.”
“When you two are done with your little argument, I’d appreciate it if we could get inside,”

Raguel called from the door.

At least he had the sense to wait for us before knocking, Nathaniel thought. He cocked his

head at his father who shrugged again. Nathaniel gritted his teeth, frustrated. Sometimes his dad’s
easygoing ways drove him insane. He started for the steps, hoping to get there before Raguel did
anything else stupid.

Ah. No such luck, he realized when he was halfway up. The heavy door swung open, revealing

one of the most intimidating men he’d ever seen. The man—no, the angel, he thought, spotting the
legacy marks that trailed down the man’s skin—crossed his arms over his chest and stared down his
nose at Raguel. He had dark hair and dark eyes and an impressively muscled physique. He didn’t say
a word as he shut the door behind him. He just stood there, glaring at Raguel as one would a bug on a
windshield.

For once, Raguel didn’t say something offensive, giving Nathaniel a chance to dash up the stairs

before he offended the entire primary clan with his tactlessness.

“Hello, I’m Nathaniel, Orifiel’s son,” he said a little breathlessly when he got to the top of the

steps. He walked across the small landing and stuck out his hand, praying that he’d made it in time to
offset Raguel’s assholeishness. He sensed Raguel’s growing outrage at the angel’s lack of welcome
even as he moved to block the other angel’s view. For fuck’s sake, keep your mouth shut this time,
he thought at Raguel, hoping he would stay quiet.

The large angel’s heavy gaze swung to him, eyes penetrating.
Nathaniel’s entire body went hot as the weight of the angel’s stare sent his libido into abrupt

overdrive. My God, he’s gorgeous, he thought, feeling a bit dazed. The angel looked him up and

down, his dark brown eyes finally settling on the hand Nathaniel still held out gamely.

“Welcome to Castle Archangel,” the angel said finally, in a voice that hinted of fire and

knowledge.

Nathaniel shivered and it wasn’t from the cold. God, get hold of yourself, man. He’s just an

angel. The angel slid his warm palm into Nathaniel’s waiting hand, shocking him with how warm he
was. Nathaniel struggled to stay calm as their fingers touched.

“I’m Zeke,” the angel said.
Zeke is a perfect name, Nathaniel thought, flushed and strangely flustered. He couldn’t figure

out what was wrong with him. Yeah, he liked big guys. He wasn’t afraid to admit he had a type, but
he’d never been struck dumb when he first met someone. Get your shit together, Nathaniel, he told
himself again.

“My father is coming, right behind me,” he managed to say, sliding his hand away. “This is

Raguel.” He rubbed at his arms, unsettled and hoping like hell it wasn’t obvious.

Zeke nodded, eyes going over Nathaniel’s shoulder. He ignored Raguel entirely, much to

Nathaniel’s amusement. “Leader Orifiel, welcome to Castle Archangel.” He held out his arm.

Nathaniel’s dad stepped up beside him and shook Zeke’s hand. “I’m very pleased to be here. I

see you’ve met my son, Nathaniel and one of our clan members, Raguel. This is Maion, another
member of our group.”

Zeke stared at Maion, a slight frown on his face, then he stepped back. “You are all welcome.”

His gaze flicked to Raguel, then back to Nathaniel. “Come inside, where it’s warm.” He held the door
the door open for them.

Odd, Nathaniel thought, glancing at his best friend. Maion didn’t seem to think anything unusual

had happened, but Nathaniel knew Zeke’s frown was for his best friend. I wonder what that was all
about. He watched Raguel step inside, Orifiel just behind him, then realized he’d left the car parked
right at the bottom of the steps. “Would you like me to move the car to somewhere more convenient?”
Nathaniel asked.

Zeke looked down the steps, then shrugged. “No, it’s fine in the circle. We can find somewhere

else for it tomorrow, if necessary.”

Nathaniel smiled. “Okay, thanks.”
“No problem,” Zeke murmured.
His voice sounded like warm molasses. Nathaniel swallowed against the slow burn of arousal

that slid through him at the sound. He had to get a handle on this before he embarrassed his father. He
did not want to screw things up for his dad.

Maion dropped his bag just inside the entry and looked around. “Wow. This place is

impressive.” He ran a hand down the polished wood paneling along the side of the door, fingers
lingering.

Zeke finally cracked a smile. “Yes. Castle Archangel is very unique. It’s full of our history.”
Nathaniel looked over the foyer. The staircase that curved up to a second story landing was

wide and made of polished wood. Off to the right a hall stretched past the stairs with a couple of
closed doors along the long wall. Beyond the stairs, he could just make out windows at the back of
the castle.

“Zeke! Who was at the door?” a woman asked, hurrying down the stairs.
The angel turned, his face relaxing into affection. “The clan from the west is here, Ariel.”
Nathaniel suppressed a surge of disappointment as he saw Zeke’s entire demeanor change.

Clearly the man liked women. The likelihood of him being gay was minuscule and you knew that, he

admonished himself. Still, he couldn’t help looking Zeke up and down as he sighed quietly to himself.
The angel was an incredible specimen of masculinity. Still, what a pity.

“They are? Why didn’t you come get us?” the woman asked, hurrying down the stairs with a

smile on her face.

She had long straight hair and a heart-shaped face. She vibrated with welcome and something

else. Something electric. Nathaniel blinked as she made her way down the stairs. It didn’t help. She
still seemed extra energetic, though he couldn’t say why he felt that way. She looked perfectly
ordinary to his human senses, but something told him there was more to her than what he was seeing.
Maybe the angel-half of my genetics is finally waking up, he thought, amused at himself. He knew it
wasn’t true.

She halted just in front of them and Zeke shook his head at her. “They only just arrived, cousin.

There’s been no time to come fetch you.”

She gave Zeke an exasperated look. He smiled serenely at her. “Okay, fine, whatever,” she

said, quirking up the side of her mouth. She turned to Nathaniel’s father. “Hello, I’m Ariel, the
Alpha’s second. Welcome to Castle Archangel.” She held out her hand. Nathaniel grinned as the
woman’s impeccable ability to pick out the most important member of their delegation made Raguel
bristle.

“We’re very happy to be here,” Orifiel said. “We were quite pleased to receive your

invitation.”

When she turned to him next, he smothered a start of surprise. Why was she greeting him next?

He wasn’t important, not at all, even if he was his father’s son. He wasn’t even a true angel.

“Nice to meet you, son of Orifiel,” she said formally, holding her hand out to him.
He shook it, smiling ruefully. “I’m Nathaniel, but there’s no need to stand on ceremony with

me.”

She nodded, smiling easily. “You’re the leader’s half-human son, I know. You are welcome

here. We are still your people.”

His eyebrows went up. “Thank you.” How did she know that? He knew his father hadn’t listed

the people he was bringing with them when he requested an audience with the Alpha.

“Don’t be alarmed by her wise-woman thing. Ariel knows everything. Or rather, she pretends

that she knows everything,” a new angel said, coming down the hall.

He was dressed casually in jeans and a sweater, but Nathaniel sensed something electric about

him, too. Oddly, all the angels here in the castle seemed to have some sort of extra zing to their
presence. Nathaniel wondered what his father had got them into. The big angel, Zeke, was watching
him again. Why? What was so interesting about him? Nathaniel shifted under the weight of Zeke’s
gaze. He wondered what the angel looked for. Could he tell that Nathaniel’s heritage made him less
than angelic? That he had no other form but that of a human? Nathaniel snorted under his breath. Of
course he knows. You came here in a car, he told himself.

“I don’t know everything,” Ariel said to the newcomer, rolling her eyes.
“Oh yes, you do. You make it a point to know everything, which is only reasonable, given your

duties,” the new angel said, frowning. His black hair and grey eyes made it easy for him to look
forbidding. Ariel gave him a look. The angel’s face broke into a grin. “And you know I like that about
you.”

She huffed. “Well, it’s a good thing, since you’re my mate. You’d better like that about me, or

you’re in for a long and very frustrating life.” She shook her head at him, smiling, and then she turned
back to Nathaniel’s father. “This is Suriel, our sorcerer.”

Nathaniel sucked in a breath. The angels had a sorcerer? He glanced at his father. Orifiel didn’t

seem especially surprised. Hmm. Just like his dad to keep some things to himself.

“I am honored to meet you, especially in these uneasy times,” Orifiel said, bowing his head

briefly.

Suriel nodded. “Truth. It is indeed a difficult era for our People. Welcome to our home.”
“Where is the Alpha?” Raguel said suddenly, pushing forward rudely. “I thought he’d be here to

meet us.”

Ariel stared at him, clearly surprised by his brusqueness. “He and his mate will be back soon.

They’re out visiting my mother. It’s taking them a little longer than anticipated to return, but don’t
worry. He’ll be back soon.” She held out her hand. “Why don’t you join us for some warm drinks in
the kitchen? Zeke, would you mind taking their bags upstairs?”

Nathaniel eyed her, surprised. He hadn’t got the sense that Zeke was any kind of servant.
He nodded. “I’d be happy to, cousin.”
Ah. It’s a family thing, Nathaniel thought.
Ariel smiled at Zeke. “Thank you.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled as he returned her smile. “It’s the least I can do.”
“Stop that,” she muttered. “This is your home.”
Zeke outright laughed, to Nathaniel’s delight. He didn’t think Zeke was prone to lighthearted

banter. He was happy to be proven wrong.

****
Zeke gathered the visitor’s bags, trying very hard not to stare at Nathaniel. The man was

beautiful: skin the color of tea, light grey eyes, curly brown hair that had golden highlights. He didn’t
understand his fascination with the man. He’d been all over the world and seen a thousand different
faces in a hundred different cultures, but for some reason, this man intrigued him. He knew Nathaniel
was half-angel, half-human, and lacked the ability to shift, but it didn’t seem to have made him bitter.
Instead, Nathaniel’s face spoke of years of smiling. Of joy. His light eyes twinkled as he looked
around with honest curiosity. He moved as though he knew who he was and what his body could do.

In stark contrast, the one called Raguel carried bitterness around him like a cloak, huddling into

his anger. And Maion was hiding something, Zeke was sure of it.

“Thank you,” Nathaniel murmured when Zeke took his backpack. His hands were very warm.
“Is this all you brought?” he asked, surprised.
Nathaniel shrugged. “I don’t need much.”
Zeke nodded slowly. He approved. “I arrived here with only a single pack as well.”
“Really?” Nathaniel asked.
“Not three weeks ago, I showed up at my cousins’ doorstep with a bag of worn clothes and a

sword.” Zeke snapped his mouth shut. Why was he telling Nathaniel these things? It wasn’t like him to
open up to a stranger.

Nathaniel was smiling, though, as if Zeke had said nothing shocking. “That’s good you had

somewhere to go. Family is important.” He glanced at his father with affection. Orifiel was talking to
Ariel near the door to the kitchen.

Zeke recognized the same urge for connection in Nathaniel as he himself craved. “Yes. I was

very lucky that Ariel and Gabriel remembered me.”

“And why ever would we forget you, Zeke? You’re our cousin, come home at long last.” Ariel

came over and before Zeke could duck away, she slipped her arm around his waist, hugging him.

He felt his face go hot and hoped to God he wasn’t actually blushing like some young boy. “The

day I came home was the best day of my adult life,” he said quietly.

Suriel clapped a hand on his shoulder. “We are all happy you came home.”
Zeke glanced up to see Nathaniel watching the little scene. The look on his face spoke of

heartache and understanding. Suddenly, Zeke’s embarrassment overcame his gratitude, and he gently
pulled away from Ariel. He didn’t need this stranger looking at him with pity. “I’ll take the bags up to
the guest suite. There are enough rooms for all of you.”

Ariel sighed, very quietly, but she let him go. “Thanks.”
Zeke nodded and fled up the stairs. The weight of the bags hardly registered.

Chapter Three

Nathaniel followed his father into the kitchen, wishing he could have followed Zeke instead. He

kept looking behind him, as if he could see a last glimpse, but the handsome angel had already gone
up the stairs. When the kitchen door swung shut, he stared at it for a moment, confused.

“What are you looking for?” Maion asked, poking him in the arm.
Nathaniel startled, then shook his head. “Nothing. I’m just tired.”
“I’m making hot chocolate. Would you like some?” Ariel asked him, opening and closing

cabinet doors.

“Sure,” Nathaniel said, making himself smile. He didn’t want to appear unfriendly. He sat

down at the table, next to his father. If this fascination with the sexy stranger doesn’t fade, I’m
going to have to do something drastic, he mused, running a finger along the smooth surface of the
table. Maybe I can persuade him into a date. He made a face. Talking straight guys into bi-curious
experimentation never ended well. And maybe I should just resign myself to a lot of cold showers
while I’m here.

“Gabriel will be back soon,” Ariel said, pouring milk into a saucepan. She flicked on the gas

stove and set it to warm up.

Nathaniel watched her, mind still fixed on Zeke. Was he coming back down? He didn’t seem to

mind carrying their bags—clearly he wasn’t hung up on status. He also called Ariel cousin and she
looked at him with affection. Nathaniel didn’t know why he was so intrigued by him, but he had long
ago stopped questioning his instincts, human though they were. Zeke interested him. Everything the
angel did spoke of hard-won composure. Nathaniel wanted to run his hands all over him and find out
what made Zeke tick.

“Are any other clans coming?” Orifiel asked.
Ariel paused, hand on the hot chocolate mix. “No. No others answered our invitations. At least

not yet.”

Nathaniel’s father frowned. “This isn’t a good time for us to be so divided.”
Nathaniel agreed.
“We will fight if we need to, regardless of what happens. We will keep this world safe,” Suriel

said, leaning on the counter near his mate. Ariel touched his arm briefly and he smiled at her.

Their devotion to each other was obvious. More than anything, Nathaniel wished he had

someone to care for like that. Zeke’s face floated into him mind and he pushed the image away
impatiently. No. No getting your hopes up. Except… sometimes, if Nathaniel let himself wallow, his
lack of angelic power could make him melancholy. Angels had mates. Humans merely fell in love.

But that was enough for my father and mother, he told himself firmly. It will be enough for

me, too.

“There are no more demons in the world. There haven’t been in years,” Raguel suddenly said.

He’d wandered around the kitchen, staring at the polished cabinets until he stopped at the windows.
“You’re fooling yourself if you think they exist.”

Ariel and Suriel exchanged a complicated look.
“That is not true,” she said quietly.
Raguel turned, his face set in that arrogant mask Nathaniel knew meant trouble. He stood up,

trying to distract him, but Maion beat him to it.

“You are always so sure of yourself, aren’t you Raguel?” Maion’s voice dripped contempt.

“You always think you know everything, but really, you don’t know jack shit.”

Maion wasn’t even looking at Raguel as he spoke. For a moment Nathaniel thought his friend’s

brown eyes flashed red, but then Maion turned his head more fully toward him. Must have been a
trick of the light, Nathaniel mused, confused by what he thought he’d seen. Unsettled by Maion’s
angry retort. His friend had never been particularly hot-headed and yet here he was, goading Raguel.
What the hell is going on? he wondered, frowning hard at Maion.

Maion ignored him, but he also continued to ignore Raguel, who would take that kind of

indifference as an insult. Which is probably why Maion does it. He’s been really picking at Raguel
for the past few months. Nathaniel didn’t understand why his father was allowing this, but Orifiel sat
at the table, face composed and hands clasped. Nathaniel waited for Raguel’s outburst. He didn’t
have to wait long.

Raguel sneered, his voice rising. “You think you know so much, but you’re nothing. I am at least

descended from an honorable line. My forbears were masters of the blade. Yours were mere
craftsmen.”

“None of that means anything now. We have never been the kind of people who placed much

importance on rank. Our society functions on merit,” Nathaniel said quickly, glancing at Ariel and
Suriel. That last thing they needed was for this to escalate between Maion and Raguel.

“In that case, your place will be at the bottom, since you are not even a true angel,” Raguel said

cuttingly.

Nathaniel ground his teeth, reining back his temper. Not for the first time he questioned his

father’s wisdom in bringing along Raguel. Nathaniel had kept his tone mild, but he was angry. He
should have expected this. Raguel was an asshole, and not even being in the presence of the Alpha’s
second, in the heart of Castle Archangel, was enough to quell the angel’s sense of entitlement.

“None of that sort of thing will mean anything as our People head into the future,” a new voice

said, clear and confident. “We must nurture all the skills we can if we’re to defeat our enemies. And
you may be surprised at how much of what we had thought lost to us was only in hiding. God is still
with us.”

Nathaniel twisted in his seat. Two angels stood just inside the kitchen door. He hadn’t heard

them come in, but they must have been standing there long enough to hear the gist of the argument. The
taller angel had brown hair, light brown eyes and an unmistakable aura of authority. The smaller
angel was softer somehow, but also compelling in a way that Nathaniel didn’t understand. His dark
hair lay messily across his forehead and he stood quietly behind the other angel, but his blue eyes
were friendly.

“It took you long enough to get home, dear brother,” Ariel said, her words cutting, but her tone

light.

Whoa. This was the Alpha? Nathaniel sighed regretfully as he realized the man had heard every

word of Raguel’s bitter complaints. He looked away. Outside, fat snowflakes had begun to drift down
across the back courtyard. He could barely make them out through the thick glass of the windows.

“I knew you were here, Ariel,” the Alpha said, walking forward. “I trust you to hold the fort.”
Nathaniel’s father stood up. “I am pleased to meet you, Alpha,” Orifiel said.
The Alpha inclined his head. “Please, call me Gabriel. I’m very happy you made the trip.” His

gaze flicked to Nathaniel and Orifiel introduced them.

“My son, Nathaniel.”
“Hello,” Nathaniel said. Behind them, the kitchen door quietly opened and Zeke slipped into the

room. Nathaniel couldn’t help glancing at him, as if his body couldn’t help itself. There was just
something about Zeke that made him lose his sense. He watched Zeke lean back against the counter,
arms folded over his chest. Nathaniel tore his gaze away and forced himself to pay attention to the
introductions. He didn’t want to offend the Alpha.

Gabriel smiled as if he hadn’t noticed Nathaniel’s distraction, gesturing to the smaller angel

standing beside him. “This is my mate, our Omega, Raphael.”

Nathaniel blinked, not sure he’d heard correctly. The Alpha’s mate was a man? He hadn’t

expected that. Not at all. He watched his father shake hands with the Omega and then he looked again
at Zeke. The angel didn’t seem in the least bothered by his leader’s choice of a mate. Unfortunately,
behind him, Nathaniel sensed Raguel’s growing anger.

“Nice to meet you,” Raphael said, turning to Nathaniel.
“This is outrageous!” Raguel burst out, striding forward.
Shit. Nathaniel stood up, shifting so that his body was between Raguel and his father. He wasn’t

surprised to see Zeke subtly position himself where he could protect Gabriel.

“What is?” Raphael asked mildly, but Nathaniel noted that his blue eyes had gone from friendly

to cold.

“The leader of the angels is a homosexual?”
Nathaniel frowned. He was still angry with Raguel from earlier and this new outburst wasn’t

helping. “He’s not the first gay man you’ve ever met. No need to get so worked up,” he said, making
sure his voice conveyed his displeasure. Raguel ignored him, striding closer. Nathaniel inched over,
instinctively protecting his clan leader while his mind analyzed the situation. What was happening?
Even for Raguel this outburst was strange. The man was a jerk, sure, but freaking out in public?
During a clan trip? Something wasn’t quite right.

“Two men together are unnatural. Two male angels together is an abomination,” Raguel

declared.

Nathaniel took a deep breath, willing himself to not punch the asshole right in the mouth.

Gabriel just stood there calmly, thank God.

“Our mating was consecrated in the ancient way,” Raphael interjected, obviously trying to

diffuse the situation. It didn’t work. Raguel opened his mouth to say something more, but before he
could, Nathaniel interrupted.

“You had a mating flight?” he asked, stepping further in front of his father. He wasn’t a strong

as Raguel, but he could at least put his body in the way if the angel snapped entirely. It would help if
Dad stopped edging out from behind me, he thought irritably, blocking the older angel from exposing
himself.

“We did,” Gabriel said.
Nathaniel forced a smile, eyes still on Raguel. The angel’s face was red and he had his fists

clenched, but he managed to hold his tongue, thank God. “That’s wonderful news.”

“Thank you,” Gabriel said, catching the conversational ball. “We were surprised, but very

grateful.” He smiled at Raphael.

The Omega snorted. “Surprised? Ha. You were totally flabbergasted.”
Gabriel grinned sheepishly. “Maybe.”
Nathaniel’s smile eased a bit at their banter, but then he glanced over at Maion and tension

crawled back up his spine. Maion watched Raguel struggle to keep his temper with a look that
Nathaniel could only call avid. He looks like a boy pulling the wings off flies. And enjoying it.
Nathaniel’s stomach churned. What the hell was happening here? Raguel had gone entirely mad and

Maion, his best friend for years, had suddenly turned into a stranger. He’d changed at some point, not
for the better, and Nathaniel had totally missed it. Shit. He glanced at his father. Orifiel was watching
Maion too, a strange look on his face.

“I think we’re all tired from the trip. Would you mind if we went to sleep and met again in the

morning?” Orifiel asked after a moment. “My apologies for my clan member’s outburst.”

Gabriel glanced at Raguel who remained silent, then nodded. “Certainly. Zeke will show you to

your rooms.”

Nathaniel looked at Raguel. He seemed to have calmed down, but he certainly wasn’t happy.

“I’m definitely beat. Flying on a plane isn’t ideal.”

Raguel glared at him. “If you had stayed home, we could have flown without the plane.”
Nathaniel sighed silently to himself. He’d mentioned the plane on purpose, to deflect Raguel’s

attention from Gabriel and Raphael’s relationship, but he certainly didn’t enjoy being picked at.

“Yes, and I’m sorry for that,” he said. Raguel looked slightly mollified. Maion looked irritated.

His father stared at him, surprised. Nathaniel shook his head slightly. The things he did to keep the
peace.

“If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you upstairs,” Zeke said, moving toward the door. Nathaniel

followed him, eager to get somewhere he could decompress in private. He’d had enough of bigotry
and cranky angels to last him a lifetime. “Sorry you didn’t get your hot chocolate,” Zeke murmured
when Nathaniel caught up.

“It’s okay.” Nathaniel smiled at him.
Zeke shook his head and led the way upstairs. Nathaniel followed, Orifiel and the others on his

heels. At the top of the curving staircase, Zeke turned right and led them down a long hall. At the end,
he unlocked a door on the right. It opened into a sitting area with windows that looked over the front
of the castle grounds. Three doors were set into the wall on the right and one on the left.

“There are three bedrooms and one bathroom. I’m sorry, but two of you will have to share a

room.”

“My son and I will share,” Orifiel said immediately, walking slowly inside. Maion and Raguel

were already prowling around the room.

Nathaniel nodded, still by the door. He had no problem with that. And separating Maion from

Raguel seemed like a good idea right now.

“Your bags are near the windows. Have a restful night,” Zeke said. He turned to leave, but

paused near the suite’s door, leaning in so closely that Nathaniel’s heart gave a hard thump. Zeke
smelled of metal and heat, for some reason. Nathaniel struggled to hold himself still.

“If you have need of my protection, you have only to ask. None of us can choose the

circumstances of our birth. You deserve the respect owed any other angel,” Zeke murmured. And with
that remarkable statement, he closed the door behind him, leaving Nathaniel staring at the polished
wood in astonishment.

****
Several hours later, Nathaniel struggled up out of sleep, his body heavy with tension. Something

was wrong. He rubbed his face and turned toward the other bed in the room. His father slept on,
oblivious. Why am I awake? He yawned, then pushed back the covers and swung his legs over the
side of the bed, knowing he would never get back to sleep with this unsettled feeling in his gut.

Maybe I’m just rattled from Raguel’s outburst, he thought, even while a deeper part of him

knew that wasn’t it. The thing that truly bothered him was Maion’s sudden weirdness. What was
going on with his friend? It worried him.

“Don’t worry, it’s just me.” Zeke’s voice came out of the depths of the room, soft and dark.
Nathaniel startled violently, sending the comforter sliding to the floor. He swallowed hard, and

blindly looked around. All he could see was shadows. “Zeke?” he whispered.

“Come with me,” the angel said, suddenly materializing right in front of Nathaniel. He wore

jeans and nothing else. The marks of his legacy splayed over his skin like slashes of black ink. The
muscles in his arms and chest were impressive.

Nathaniel stared, wanting to grab the sheet and hold it up over his bare skin. He felt strangely

vulnerable. Jesus, calm the fuck down, he told himself sternly. “What are you doing here?” he asked,
whispering.

Zeke shifted his weight. “I need to talk to you.”
Nathaniel frowned. This made no sense. Why couldn’t they talk in the morning? “I don’t

understand.”

“That makes the two of us,” the angel muttered, clearly uneasy.
Those words decided him. No one who talks to himself like that could be all that bad, he

mused, standing up. And I’ll be strictly hands-off with him. Never play with straight guys,
remember? Glancing at his sleeping father, he whispered, “Okay. Do I need shoes? Where are we
going?”

Zeke shook his head, not elaborating.
“Fine,” Nathaniel said, sighing. He wore sweatpants, so he was decent enough. “Lead on,

before my father wakes up.”

Zeke backed up, almost disappearing into the dark. Nathaniel followed him out of the bedroom

and into the sitting room. When Zeke beckoned him toward the suite’s door, Nathaniel pursed his lips
and obeyed. Zeke latched the door behind them and started down the hall. Nathaniel debated whether
or not he should keep going—because this is nuts,—but Zeke turned around and gave him a look, he
couldn’t help himself.

“Where are we going?” he asked as he caught up.
Zeke rolled his shoulders, obviously uncomfortable. “My room.”
Nathaniel frowned. “Seriously?”
Zeke glanced at him, his face showing frustration, then he opened a small door at the end of the

hall that Nathaniel hadn’t even noticed. The door opened onto steps that led down to a lower level.

“This way,” Zeke said, starting down.
Nathaniel took a deep breath and followed. If Zeke was intending to do something nefarious, he

doubted the angel would be acting so uncertain.

The steps were stone, narrow, and much longer than a normal staircase. They were lit at

irregular intervals by small LED lanterns set into old sconces. They didn’t light the way all that well
and he almost slipped a couple of times, but caught himself before he staggered into Zeke.

Because that would be totally not cool, he thought, watching his feet more carefully. Nathaniel

had no idea what the hell was going on. “Are we going into the basement?” he finally asked after
what seemed like they’d gone down a hundred steps.

Zeke shook his head. “No. These go to a room on the first floor, set very far back in the castle.”
Nathaniel hmmm’d. Just then, the steps ended and Zeke opened yet another door. This one was

old dark wood set with iron straps. “Jesus, it looks like the door to a dungeon.”

“That’s not a bad guess,” Zeke said, chuckling briefly. He pushed it open. “But no, not a

dungeon.”

The hall beyond was stone and cold. Zeke shivered, wishing he’d brought his shirt. His toes

curled over the rough slate underfoot.

Zeke glanced at him. “It’s just down here.”
Nathaniel certainly hoped so. He had goosebumps—and not the fun kind.
Zeke opened another door a few feet down the hall. Warmth spilled out over Nathaniel and he

hurried forward, then stopped just inside the door to look into the room. A fire burned in a huge
fireplace along one wall. There was a sort of metal screen in front of the flames and he could feel it
radiating heat into the room. The metal screen was filigreed with shapes that looked similar to the
legacy marks he’d seen all his life on the other angels. The rest of the room wasn’t large, but it was…
odd. One wall seemed to be made of glass doors that opened accordion style. Beyond, a larger space
filled with tools lay in darkness.

“Those are blacksmithing tools. Sort of,” Zeke said, closing the door to the hall behind them.
“Blacksmithing?” Nathaniel looked around some more. Zeke’s bed sat with rumpled covers

beneath a window. The iron of the frame was elaborately designed. In a rack close by, blades of
various sizes were lined up, full of dangerous promise. “You’re a blade master,” Nathaniel said,
suddenly understanding. “I thought the angels had lost the art of weaponry.”

Zeke sighed. “The art is not quite lost, but I’m not quite a master, either. I have the knowledge

—” He tapped his head. “—but I don’t have the power.” He walked over to the bed and sat down on
it, shoulders slumping. The moonlight fell through the window down over his arms, highlighting
Zeke’s skin: legacy marks crisscrossed with faint, fine silvery scars.

Between the flickering firelight and the moon, Nathaniel could see enough to understand that the

marks weren’t the usual brown color. The slate grey lines looked nearly black. That color was the
mark of the angel’s weapons master. Zeke’s wings would be grey as well, when he shifted. The color
was unique and rare amongst their people.

“You have the marks of a master,” Nathaniel murmured, slowly walking closer. “Why deny it?”
Zeke lifted his head. “This isn’t what I brought you down here for.”
Nathaniel stopped, confused. “Why did you bring me here?”
Zeke shifted, rubbing his hands up his arms. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know.” Nathaniel didn’t understand. He looked at Zeke, eyes lingering on the

angel’s muscles, the scars, and accepted that Zeke truly didn’t understand either. “What do you feel?”

“I had a strange dream,” Zeke said, clearly uncomfortable. He tried to continue and coughed,

then cleared his throat. “You have to understand, I don’t dream. Not anymore. Not for a long, long
time.”

Nathaniel sensed this wasn’t going to be a quick conversation. He walked closer. When Zeke

didn’t object, he sat down on the bed and leaned back. It was cooler here, further from the fire, but
Zeke gave off enough heat for the two of them. Nathaniel fought to keep his eyes where they belonged
and away from Zeke’s impressive musculature. No need to spook the heterosexual angel, he told
himself. “You had a dream?” he asked, prompting Zeke.

The angel rubbed his face. “Yeah, but I can’t remember it. I just remember the feeling I had

when I woke up.”

Nathaniel frowned, an inkling of what was going on floating through his mind. Except, that’s

impossible, he thought, afraid to hope. He spoke anyway. “You felt like something was wrong. Out of
place. Unnatural.” He licked his lips, suddenly nervous. “Didn’t you?”

Zeke stared at him. “Yes.”
Nathaniel stared back, unwilling to back down.
Finally, Zeke continued. “I came to get you. The feeling went away when I stood in front of your

door.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Nathaniel didn’t want to mention the way he’d felt when he

woke up. He wasn’t sure he believed in coincidences, but it sure as hell was a better explanation than
anything else. He certainly didn’t believe in miracles.

Zeke stood up and began to pace. “You think I don’t know that?” he asked angrily. “I’ve spent

the last ten years of my life traveling the world, learning. Trying to forget that I lost my family.” He
stopped and glared at Nathaniel. “I’m not prone to daydreaming, not anymore. I take things at face
value.” He ran a hand over his face. “This, this feeling,” He spat the word out. “It makes no sense.”

Nathaniel stood up. He didn’t know what to say, but he didn’t like the way Zeke was standing,

as if he was going to punch something. “It’s gone now,” he offered. “The feeling is gone, right?”

“Sure, it’s gone. But tell me, why do I feel the almost unbearable urge to do this, instead?” Zeke

asked, his voice thick with some emotion Nathaniel couldn’t interpret. And then he took two quick
steps to the bed, cupped Nathaniel’s face, and kissed him.

Nathaniel froze, stunned. His only coherent thought was, His lips are so soft.

Chapter Four

Zeke kissed Nathaniel, shocked at what he was doing. Shocked that Nathaniel didn’t rear back

and hit him in the face. He thought it would be strange, kissing another man, but instead it felt familiar.
Like he’d been missing something all his life until this moment. Nathaniel tasted warm and surprised,
so Zeke opened his mouth and let himself sink in, the way his instincts wanted him to. Nathaniel
didn’t kiss him back, but he didn’t protest either. Zeke kissed him deeply, then gently moved away,
trembling. God, what have I done?

“Whoa,” Nathaniel said, voice shaky. He put a hand up to his mouth. His lips were red and wet.
Zeke stared, heart hammering in his chest. Whoa, indeed. “I’m sorry,” he rasped, voice harsh.

He couldn’t look away. Nathaniel was so damn beautiful, especially in the firelight.

Nathaniel laughed. Laughed.
Zeke swallowed, feeling lightheaded.
“Um, I’m not exactly upset here, in case you didn’t notice,” Nathaniel said.
Zeke didn’t know where to put his hands. He tried to take a shaky step back, but his body

wouldn’t cooperate. Nathaniel reached out, grabbing his arms and pulling him in roughly. Zeke
gasped as the smaller man’s hard-on pressed into his thigh. Jesus. “What’s happening to us?” he
asked. “I’ve never felt like this about another man before.”

Nathaniel shook his head. “I don’t know.” He leaned in and rested his forehead on Zeke’s

shoulder. “And I really wish I did. You’re hot, and I like you a lot, but I make it a habit to leave
straight guys alone.”

“I don’t feel straight right now. I feel all twisted up.” Zeke put a tentative hand on Nathaniel’s

neck. Something prickled under his fingers, like static. He looked down just in time to see marks
sliding under Nathaniel’s lovely caramel skin, like ink that couldn’t decide where to settle. He pushed
him away, breathing hard, but didn’t lift his hand. The marks moved like magic beneath his touch.

Nathaniel’s fingers tightened on his biceps and he swayed. “God, what’s happening?” He

sounded drunk.

Suddenly, Zeke knew. “Jesus,” he said, stunned. “We’re bonding.” This was even more

shocking than finding himself attracted to a member of the same sex.

Nathaniel shook his head. “No, no, that’s impossible. I’m only half-angel. I can’t fly. I can’t do

anything. My genetics are too mixed up.”

Zeke stared at Nathaniel’s shoulder. The ink was darkening to a slate-grey as it came to the

surface of his skin. The lines moved like a blooming flower, full of potential and beauty.

“Nathaniel, look,” he managed to say, sliding his hand down the smaller angel’s arms and

lifting them.

Nathaniel had his eyes closed. “I feel really fucking weird,” he said.
“Open your eyes,” Zeke told him. He was hard and flushed and so fucking aroused he could

barely think, but he knew one thing. Nathaniel had to open his eyes to understand what was going on.
The marks moved under his hands like electric wire, zapping him with energy before settling into the
familiar angelic pattern. Nathaniel swayed as if he’d been drinking and Zeke tightened his hold.
“Open your eyes, Nathaniel.” He shook him a little.

Nathaniel’s eyes snapped open. When his eyes fell onto their clasped arms, he went perfectly,

utterly still.

Zeke had never seen a more beautiful man in his entire life. He’d never, ever been attracted to a

man before. He’d never wanted another person more badly, and the thought scared him so much he let
go. The motion shocked Nathaniel into looking up. In his face, Zeke saw shock and worry, but then his
expression softened into compassion. In the midst of receiving angelic legacy marks, Nathaniel was
cognizant enough to see Zeke’s consternation and understand. That strength of character is what
finally broke him. Tears welled up. For the first time in a decade Zeke let them fall.

****
Nathaniel had never truly understood what his father meant when he’d talked about being

touched by God, but he did now. It was like being struck with electricity. Like shoving your hands
into a fire and pulling them out unharmed. It felt like falling from a great height, but never hitting the
ground. He stared at his arms, held so tight within Zeke’s grasp. The sparks of energy he’d felt had
settled into legacy marks. He didn’t believe it. He didn’t trust it. When Zeke suddenly let go, he
looked up, wanting to ask what the hell was happening to him. What he saw in Zeke’s face stilled his
tongue.

The other angel had tears in his eyes and he looked more wrecked than Nathaniel felt.
“Don’t cry,” he whispered, reaching up to touch a finger to Zeke’s cheek. “Everything’s all

right.”

Zeke blinked and the tears ran down his face. “I lost my faith,” he said, his voice like rocks

falling down a slope.

Nathaniel knew exactly how he felt. “I never really had faith,” he murmured, moving in until his

entire body pressed up against Zeke. It felt better to hold onto someone right now. “So, I know what
you mean. It’s okay.”

Zeke shook his head violently. “No, it’s not. I’ve been wandering so long—”
Nathaniel stopped his words with his mouth. Zeke groaned into the kiss, hands coming back

onto Nathaniel’s biceps. Nathaniel gripped his waist, trying to get closer. The heat between them felt
like nothing he’d ever experienced before. The marks on his arms shocked him, sure, and he was
eager to find out if they were true legacy marks, but this attraction to Zeke felt even more primal.
“God, Zeke, don’t let go,” he muttered. He needed Zeke like he needed air.

Zeke panted, mouth moving down his jaw. “I don’t know what to do. I’ve never done this

before.”

“I’ll show you,” Nathaniel murmured, backing him toward the bed. He pushed aside his

misgivings, focusing on the burning need in his body. Were they bonding? He didn’t know. He wasn’t
sure he cared. He just knew that he had to have this angel. He had to convince Zeke that loving
another man was just as beautiful as loving a woman. It didn’t have to mean anything. It would be just
sex. When Zeke’s legs hit the mattress, he tumbled down. Nathaniel went to his knees between Zeke’s
thighs.

“God, Nathaniel, what are you doing?” Zeke asked, eyes going wide. His hands gripped

Nathaniel’s forearms, distorting the newly formed marks.

Nathaniel smiled up at Zeke, shoving aside his doubts. He knew Zeke might freak out later, but

right now, all his instincts told him to keep going. “I’m going to suck you,” he said, voice low with
promise. His cock throbbed with agreement, pushing out against his soft sweatpants. He licked his
lips, already imagining the weight of Zeke on his tongue.

Zeke shuddered and let go. Nathaniel moved his hands up, unbuttoning his jeans carefully.

When he eased the zipper down over Zeke’s erection, the larger angel shivered. He wasn’t wearing
any underwear and his cock sprang out, thick and hot.

“Gorgeous,” Nathaniel murmured, taking him in hand.
Zeke groaned. “God, Nathaniel.”
“I’m not God,” he said, then lowered his head. The taste of Zeke burst over his tongue, sweet

and musky. He licked around the crown, then slipped him inside, sucking firmly. Zeke trembled and
Nathaniel slid his hand down his pants, rolling Zeke’s balls over his palm.

“Jesus,” Zeke cried, bowing over Nathaniel, hands flying out.
Nathaniel grabbed them and put them on his head. He lifted his head briefly. “You can clench

my hair. I don’t mind,” he said, looking up. Zeke’s face was tight with arousal and desperation. When
he wove his fingers into his hair, Nathaniel smiled and sank back down, determined to drive Zeke out
of his mind.

“Fuck,” Zeke muttered, fingers tightening just to the edge of pain.
Nathaniel palmed himself with his free hand, cock aching. He slid his fingers back behind

Zeke’s balls and pressed gently. Zeke’s hip lifted as he began to thrust, unable to help himself.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Nathaniel said as he came up for air. He blew on the cock next to his cheek,

enjoying the way it bobbed.

Zeke groaned. “Please, Nathaniel. God, don’t stop.”
Nathaniel slid his fingers back further, teasing Zeke’s hole.
Zeke froze, eyes going wide. “Stop.”
Nathaniel stilled his finger, but didn’t move away. “I won’t do anything to hurt you, I promise.”
Zeke swallowed. “I know.”
Nathaniel fluttered his finger, pleased when Zeke’s cock swelled against his lips. “You like it.”

He fluttered his finger again. “Do you still want me to stop?”

Zeke closed his eyes, panting. “No. God, how can that feel so good?”
Nathaniel sucked Zeke’s cock back into his mouth, moving his finger in time with his tongue.

Zeke moaned, low and frustrated.

“More,” he begged. “Please, I need more.”
Nathaniel began to suck, then he gently eased his finger into Zeke.
“Fuck,” Zeke exclaimed, back arching, and then he was climaxing.
Nathaniel sucked strongly, taking him deep. He swallowed, once, twice, then again, knowing

that the motion of his throat would feel incredible for Zeke. Even so, he couldn’t swallow all of
Zeke’s spunk. It spilled out of his mouth and down his chin. When the dick on his tongue finally
softened a little, he moved back. He eased his finger out and pressed harder on his own cock. He
needed to cum, so bad.

“Fuck,” Zeke repeated, then hauled Nathaniel up, kissing him deeply.
Nathaniel groaned into Zeke’s mouth as he caught himself on the mattress. His erection was

right up against Zeke’s thigh. All it would take was a little rubbing…

“Oh no you don’t,” Zeke said, flipping him onto his back.
“Shit,” Nathaniel breathed as Zeke stripped off his sweats. For a guy who’d never done

anything with another man, he seemed pretty sure what he wanted.

“Don’t move,” Zeke said, his voice low and thick.
Nathaniel fisted the blankets, trying to obey. His cock was so hard it hurt. The tip was shiny

with his arousal. Zeke stood up and pushed his jeans down and off, kicking them away. His cock lay
against his thigh, wet and only half-hard now.

“What are you going to do?” Nathaniel asked. He tightened his buttocks, trying to keep still, but

he wanted Zeke so bad.

Zeke took a deep breath, looking right into Nathaniel’s eyes. He took himself in hand, running

his thumb over the tip of his own prick.

Nathaniel stared, mesmerized. He’d sucked that cock. He knew exactly what it tasted like. Felt

like.

“What do you want, Nathaniel?” Zeke asked, hand still moving.
While Nathaniel watched, Zeke’s cock thickened, becoming erect again.
Nathaniel moaned, hands twitching. He had to touch himself. He let go of the covers, but as

soon as he slid his palm over his hip, Zeke was there, pinning his forearm down with his knee.

“Zeke, touch me,” Nathaniel begged, breathing harshly. “Please.”
Zeke didn’t speak. He just kept jacking himself, as if Nathaniel hadn’t spoken.
Nathaniel watched his hand go up, down, up again. Zeke’s shaft was dark red, wet, and larger

than he remembered.

“What do you truly want, Nathaniel?” Zeke asked, flicking his thumb around the crown. His

knee pushed into the bones of Nathaniel’s wrist.

Nathaniel licked suddenly dry lips. What exactly was Zeke asking? His hips moved restlessly.
“Don’t fucking move,” Zeke said. He let go of his cock and grabbed Nathaniel’s hips with his

hands, bending over and pushing his full weight on his arms.

Nathaniel couldn’t move if he wanted to. Zeke was bigger than he was. Stronger. And this is

turning you on like crazy.

“What do you want?” he asked again, thumbs moving along Nathaniel’s hipbones. He pressed

in until it hurt.

Nathaniel grunted, cock jerking. He wanted Zeke. He wanted to be a true angel. He wanted to

be loved. But he couldn’t tell the angel rearing up above him that. He’d scare him away. He
compromised. “I want you to fuck me,” he said hoarsely.

“Thought so.” Zeke’s brown eyes flared darker. “Are you sure?”
Nathaniel nodded. “Yeah.”
Zeke leaned closer, then ran his fingers through the cooling spunk decorating his collarbone.

“Don’t move,” he said, again.

Nathaniel shuddered.
Zeke slid his wet hand down to Nathaniel’s ass, spreading his legs open with little finesse.

“Fuck. You’re so goddamn beautiful. I don’t understand this at all,” he muttered, then placed his hand
behind Nathaniel’s balls.

Nathaniel groaned, hips jerking, but Zeke held him down with his other hand. “I said, don’t

move.”

“I can’t help it. Jesus, Zeke,” Nathaniel said, voice hitching as Zeke circled his finger around

his hole. “Fuck me. I want you inside me.”

“I’ve only done this before with a woman,” Zeke said, sinking his finger in.
Nathaniel arched his back, cock bobbing. Zeke still had his knee on his forearm, so he couldn’t

move much. “It can’t be that different,” he gasped as Zeke slipped another finger inside.

Zeke leaned down, kissing along Nathaniel’s shoulder. “The mechanics are the same, but I feel

completely fucking different,” he whispered into Nathaniel’s skin. He added another finger.

Nathaniel’s breath whooshed out of him as he tried to stay still. He tried really fucking hard, but

he couldn’t. He unfitted the sheet from his left hand and grabbed Zeke’s arm. “Fuck,” he managed to
say, but he wasn’t really thinking very well anymore.

“Shhh,” Zeke said, taking his wrist and pinning it down. His other hand still worked at

Nathaniel’s hole, stretching. Teasing. “Almost there.”

“Zeke, please.” Nathaniel felt like he was being turned inside out. He’d started off wanting to

give Zeke the best head of his life, make sure he didn’t regret feeling attracted to Nathaniel, but
somehow the situation had flipped him over. Zeke was in control now.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Zeke said, still stretching him with his fingers.
The burn felt so good, Nathaniel wondered if maybe he could come from this alone. When Zeke

suddenly hit his prostrate, he cried out, fisting his hands. Zeke sucked in a breath and held him down
through the pleasure, muscles bulging as he kept stroking, stroking inside until Nathaniel didn’t even
remember his own damn name.

“Yeah, that’s fucking incredible,” Zeke said, eyes hot.
Nathaniel’s was so close, he thought maybe if Zeke so much as blew on his cock he’d come.
“Wrap your fingers around the iron frame,” Zeke said suddenly, slipping his fingers out.
Nathaniel stared at him dumbly. He couldn’t move. If he moved, he’d orgasm.
Zeke smiled at him, then reached down and drew Nathaniel’s hands up. He wrapped his fingers

around the iron bed frame. Nathaniel held on for dear life.

“Don’t let go,” Zeke said.
Nathaniel shook his head.
Zeke moved in between Nathaniel’s legs, then tentatively touched his tongue to Nathaniel’s

cock.

Nathaniel groaned, hips thrusting up.
Zeke backed off. “No moving.” He opened Nathaniel’s legs wider and leaned his weight on

them.

Nathaniel tried to wiggle and found he couldn’t. Zeke’s strength held him completely still. He

could let go of the bed, but he had a feeling Zeke wouldn’t like that.

“Now, I’ve never done this before. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, so don’t move. Not

one twitch.”

Nathaniel held his breath and began to pray. He wanted Zeke to like this. He wanted Zeke to

suck him, and then he wanted Zeke to fuck him until his entire life changed. Which is a bit much to
put on one person, especially someone who’s never done this before, a small voice said in his mind,
but Nathaniel ignored it. He held on and when Zeke sucked the tip of his cock into his mouth, he
gasped, but he didn’t move. He didn’t move when Zeke began to lick experimentally. He didn’t move
when Zeke moved his arms off his thighs and began to finger him again. He didn’t so much as twitch
when Zeke began to suck him, mouth wet and red and so goddamn incredible Nathaniel couldn’t see
straight anymore. He didn’t move until Zeke backed off, fingers and hands and mouth abruptly gone,
leaving him bereft. He was so close…

“Wait, no,” Nathaniel said, grabbing Zeke’s arm.
Zeke pressed a kiss to Nathaniel’s wrist. “Don’t move.”
Nathaniel squeezed his eyes shut and nodded. “Okay, okay.” He couldn’t stop panting, though—

his ribs moved as if he’d been running a race. He couldn’t stop the involuntary jerking of his cock as
Zeke moved around on the bed. He’d never felt so sensitized before. Not ever. No other lover had
ever taken him so close to the edge and just… stopped. He prayed Zeke wasn’t freaking out.

When Zeke pressed the tip of his cock to his anus, Nathaniel sucked in a breath and went

completely immobile, afraid to move. “Please,” he said, voice low and wrecked. “Zeke.” He opened
his eyes.

Zeke was staring at him as he pressed forward. Nathaniel held his gaze, relaxing into the bed as

Zeke fucked into him, smooth and steady. He looked shocked once he’d gotten all the way in.
Nathaniel breathed out, letting his body adjust. Zeke was the one breathing hard now, his body
trembling. When the burn subsided, Nathaniel brought his hands down and gripped Zeke’s forearms.
“Okay. I’m okay.”

Zeke dropped his head down. “I’m not. Not fucking okay. How on earth can this feel so good?”
Nathaniel understood. Zeke hadn’t expected to like this. “It’s okay.”
Zeke made a pained sound. “How did I not know this about myself?” His hips started to make

small circling movements.

Nathaniel shivered as Zeke’s cock pressed against his prostate and sparks shot up his spine.

“Fuck me, Zeke. Come on,” he said, trying to get him to move.

“Yeah,” Zeke said, hips moving more. “Yeah, okay.”
Nathaniel threw his head back as Zeke started to put some muscle into it. The sensation of his

cock sliding into and out of his ass was the most exquisite thing he’d ever experienced. Zeke was
stronger, harder, somehow more than any of his other partners. His cock bobbed between them, and
then Zeke reached down and started jacking him as he moved.

“Come on, Nathaniel. I want to see you let it go.”
Nathaniel’s vision whited out and he grunted, and then, suddenly, Zeke changed form, right in

the middle of a thrust. His slate-grey wings burst out from him, beautiful and strong, triggering
something primal inside Nathaniel. He writhed, trying to cum, but something wasn’t right. He need to
orgasm. He was right at the edge, but he couldn’t go over. Zeke lifted him up, using his wings to
wrestle Nathaniel onto his knees, and suddenly, something electric ran up his arms and down his back
and he climaxed just as the energy ran out of him. Wings exploded from his back as his cock jerked,
spunk hitting Zeke’s chest and belly. Nathaniel writhed, Zeke’s strength the only thing keeping him up.

“Fuck,” Zeke breathed, hips moving wildly.
He fucked up inside Nathaniel and another orgasm took him as he tried not to move. The wings

unbalanced him and he almost fell, but Zeke held him too tightly. He groaned, holding on for dear life,
and then Zeke was cumming deep inside him. Nathaniel went over again, his dick jerking weakly,
new-found wings fluttering. Zeke leaned his sweaty face down and rested it on Nathaniel’s shoulder.
Nathaniel tucked his face into Zeke’s hair and just breathed. They clung to each other for a long time,
until the last of the pleasure finally subsided and Zeke’s soft cock slid from Nathaniel’s body.

“I don’t know what just happened,” Zeke murmured. “I’m not even gay.”
Nathaniel laughed weakly. “You’re not gay, and I don’t have wings.”
Zeke sighed and lifted away, gently setting Nathaniel down on the bed. “You do now.” His tone

was strange.

Nathaniel looked at his lover carefully, not sure what to say. The freaked-out expression on

Zeke’s face decided him. “So you’re not straight. It’s not the end of the world.” His new wings
rustled behind him, as if they had a mind of their own. It felt weird. They felt weird, not like he’d
imagined it. He gently took hold of one of his primaries and drew it around to his lap. The feather felt
incredibly soft. Delicate. Hard to imagine such fragile things could support a man. It was slate grey,
same as the marks on his arms. None of it felt real.

“It’s not that, Nathaniel,” Zeke said, his voice soft. “I’m not upset about making love with you.”
Nathaniel went still, feathers slipping from his fingers. “Then what is it?”
Zeke took a deep breath and touched the edge of Nathaniel’s wings. “That’s a beautiful color,

weapons master. Mate.”

Nathaniel’s heart seized up. “Mate? Wait, weapons master?”

Zeke nodded and slid his hand down to hold Nathaniel’s. “Yes. Mine.”
Nathaniel pulled away, gut twisting. “No, that’s impossible. We didn’t fly. Hell, I can’t fly.”

He stood up. The wings unbalanced him a bit, but then he got used to their weight and began to pace.
“No.” He headed for the door, but stopped with his hand on the handle. He’d just remembered he was
nude and didn’t want to stride through Castle Archangel with his dick hanging out. “Shit.” He banged
his head on the old wood. What is wrong with me? I always wanted wings. And a mate. Why do I
feel so fucked up? He turned around and leaned back against the door. It made his feathers bunch up
uncomfortably.

Zeke watched him. Something in his face told Nathaniel he was sad.
“Don’t go.”
“Fuck,” Nathaniel said. He clenched his fists. “Fuck.”
Zeke didn’t move. His wings looked like great, grey stone behind him. He was like one of those

old, stone angels the humans carved to signify a vengeful god. He was gorgeous. And he’s yours,
Nathaniel thought, possession rearing up inside him abruptly. He strode over and clasped Zeke’s face
between his hands, then bent down for a gentle kiss. “What the hell are we doing?” he asked,
confused as hell.

Zeke kissed him back. “God works in mysterious ways.”
Nathaniel pulled back, then began to chuckle unwillingly. “Jesus.” His wings moved and he

stilled them, still trying to work out the muscles. “I have no idea how to put these away.” He frowned.
“Or even if I should.” He looked at Zeke. At least the sadness on his face seemed to have dissipated.
“What if they don’t come back?”

Zeke shook his head. “God wouldn’t give you this and then take it away.”
Nathaniel swallowed. “Yes, he would.” He thought of his mother, dying from breast cancer. He

thought of Zeke’s family, fading into the mist.

Zeke’s eyes told him he knew what Nathaniel was thinking. “Shit happens, too. That’s how life

works. How free will works.”

Nathaniel squared his shoulders. “Okay,” he said, then he concentrated. He pulled on something

intangible inside his chest, like a string he’d never known was there. His wings ached for a moment,
and then they folded into his body like they’d never existed. He stood still for a moment, then rolled
his shoulders, heart pounding. He hoped to God that he could shift back. He wanted to fly.

“See? Your legacy marks remain,” Zeke said in a rough voice, standing and tracing a finger

down his arm.

Nathaniel nodded, then grasped Zeke’s hand, tight. “I’m sorry.” He still felt unsettled. Strange.

He didn’t know how to act.

Zeke shrugged. “I have my own demons to face,” he said, sighing. “I still can’t quite believe

what I did with you.”

“You never felt any attraction to a man before?” Nathaniel had to ask, no matter how much he

didn’t want to hear the answer.

“No. But there weren’t many women, either. I just didn’t have time for sex. I was busy trying to

learn how to make weapons.” He laughed bitterly. “Weapons that shattered.” He sighed. “Was my
single-minded blindness to blame for my weakness?”

Nathaniel didn’t know. “How could it? One has nothing to do with the other. And you’re not

weak. Not even close.”

“Ha, little do you know, Nathaniel. Your wing color is the same as mine,” Zeke said, something

strange in his voice. He looked over to the darkened hearth in the next room. “Come with me.” He

tugged on Nathaniel’s arm. “Come and let’s see what God is trying to teach us both.”

Chapter Five

Zeke pulled Nathaniel into the workshop. As he walked, he shifted back to human. He didn’t

care that they were naked. He didn’t care that Nathaniel had no idea what he intended. All he knew
was that something inside him told him that now was the time to create a weapon. Their weapons. He
flicked on the induction heater and grabbed the two slim blanks he’d prepared earlier that day. He’d
taken the last sword he’d tried to make, the one he’d brought to the castle, and deconstructed it,
forming the thin pieces of metal. He hadn’t expected to be forging a personal weapon with it, but now
he was glad he’d had the urge to make something. He wouldn’t have had anything prepared,
otherwise.

“An induction heater?” Nathaniel asked, staring at the coils. “I’ve never seen one before.”
Zeke nodded as the buzz of the machine filled the space. It would heat a point in the center of

the coils using a high frequency AC current. “Yes. Here, put this on.” He tossed a thick leather apron
at Nathaniel, then slid another over his head. “We don’t want to fry our junk.”

“Fry our junk?” Nathaniel snorted as he tied the straps. “Damn, this is uncomfortable. Remind

me to pull on some pants the next time you drag me in here. What are you doing, anyway?”

Zeke put on his thick leather gloves. “We’re making angelic daggers.” He closed his tongs

around one of the steel blanks, then slid the long end into the coil. It heated very quickly into a deep
cherry color.

“Zeke, I don’t know anything about forging weapons,” Nathaniel said, watching closely.
“You don’t need to,” Zeke said, watching the metal closely. He concentrated, focusing his

energy the way his father had taught him so long ago. The technique had been passed down in the
family, son to son, for generations, regardless of talent or power. Now, for the first time in his life, he
could sense the grain of the metal. No, not sense. I can see the structure of it, he realized, awed as
he stared at the heating metal.

“What is that?” Nathaniel asked, moving closer. “I can see the grains in the metal.” He put a

hand to Zeke’s shoulder and everything sharpened even further. He gasped. “Good lord.”

“Yes. This is the power that was lost,” Zeke murmured, turning the tongs. “See what we have to

do? Focus with me. Breathe out, then in again, and think about what we’re making. Don’t let go of
me,” he instructed. He sensed Nathaniel’s confusion, but the energy flowing between them was
stronger than the fear. They were truly mated, even without a flight. Without even the declaration.

“I feel weird,” Nathaniel muttered.
“It’s the metal talking to us,” Zeke said as he pulled it out of the coil. He twisted, bringing it to

his smaller anvil. As he stared at it, he felt Nathaniel’s energy fill him. Together, as if they were one
person, they gathered it up and slid that energy into the metal. There was a flash and an almost silent
boom, like someone had set off a subsonic blast.

Nathaniel’s hand tightened on Zeke’s shoulder, but he didn’t let go. “What the hell was that?”

he asked breathlessly, leaning closer.

Zeke blinked, then brought the metal closer. As it cooled, the silver rainbow of an angelic

weapon shimmered in the dull light of the shop. The blade was sleek and deadly, almost as long as
his forearm. The hilt was made from the metal, too, but grooved designs swirled around the grip.
They looked like legacy marks. “My God,” he said. He opened the tongs and let the blade fall into his
free hand. It was perfectly balanced. Sharp. And something more. It felt… alive. He twisted and held

it out to Nathaniel. “This is yours.”

Nathaniel stared at him, then slowly took the weapon. It flared briefly as he touched it. He

gripped the hilt and brought the blade up to eye level. “It feels like an extension of my arm.”

Zeke closed his eyes, overwhelmed. This was what he’d been born to do. This was the purpose

of the angels’ weapons master. He’d tried his whole life to create this kind of dagger, and failed
every time. Until Nathaniel came to Castle Archangel.

“What about you?” Nathaniel asked.
Zeke wordlessly raised the other blank and placed it in his tongs. “Are you ready?”
Nathaniel nodded, putting his hand back on Zeke’s shoulder. The energy between them flared,

running back and forth like static jumping from one wire to another. Zeke took a deep breath and
heated the metal. When it was the right temperature, he placed it on the anvil. Even before he
prompted, Nathaniel was already focusing his will.

Zeke took that focus and added his own, using the gift he’d been born with, but had never been

able to access. The gift Nathaniel had been born with too, the one that had lain dormant for years. He
took the energy and forged his own weapon, praying that he had the courage and strength to do what
was necessary. This time, when the blade flashed, he felt it bond to his soul. Legacy marks like the
geometric feather lines on his arms slid into the hilt and the blade turned silver-shimmery. He lifted it
up and closed his eyes, feeling the way the weapon spoke to him. After a moment, he turned to
Nathaniel, heart hammering in his chest. It was time for him to seize his courage and leap into the fire.

“I choose you, Nathaniel, twin blade to my soul, warrior to warrior, master to master. You are

my equal, my heart, my sharp edge. I pledge myself to you, blade to hilt, as God wills, in this life and
into the heat at the end of creation.” He swallowed, hoping Nathaniel understood that he couldn’t wait
for them to get to know each other. He didn’t want to wait. He’d been alone his entire life. He didn’t
want to be alone anymore.

Nathaniel stared at him, then took a step back, face shadowed.
Zeke stopped breathing as his soul went tight with dismay. “Nathaniel.”
“No, Zeke. No. This is crazy,” he said, backing away into the bedroom. He took off the leather

apron and flung it on the bed, then dragged on his sweatpants. His movements were jerky and
panicked.

“Wait, Nathaniel. Please don’t go.” Zeke followed him, holding out his hand. He let it fall when

Nathaniel took another step back. The blade they’d just made gleamed against his arm. He hadn’t let it
go, even to get dressed. Zeke understood. The blades were extensions of their souls. Losing one
would be like cutting off an arm.

“We just met,” Nathaniel said, voice cracking. His fingers tightened around the hilt of his

weapon. “I have wings, for God’s sake. I don’t understand any of this.” He held up the dagger, then
let his arm fall to the side, despair written into his posture. He turned around.

Zeke willed himself to stand strong. He would not beg. But… he could wait. He’d learned

patience the hard way. He would wait forever if he had to. He was used to it, after all. “Okay,
Nathaniel. It’s okay.”

“Zeke, Jesus. I’m sorry.” Nathaniel sounded like he was crying. He reached the door.
“It’s okay. We have time,” Zeke said, even though he knew that what he’d just said was a lie.

Time was the one thing they didn’t have. Demons had come back to the world. They roamed the halls
of the castle and the ridges of their mountains. Safety was a myth. Time was their enemy. The angels
needed their weapons masters. “It’s okay, Nathaniel” he murmured, even as the door shut with his
lover on the other side and already gone.

****
Nathaniel stumbled down the hall, left hand clenched into a fist, eyes burning. His right hand

held the dagger he’d made with Zeke. He was under no illusions about the blade. Zeke may have held
the tongs with the blank, but it had taken both of their energies to forge the weapon into life. He
swallowed and wiped at his eyes, trying to figure out when he’d lost all control of the situation.

“When you let him fuck you, that’s when, idiot,” he muttered to himself, nearly tripping. He’d

made it to the stairs. Each one felt like a mountain he had to climb, but finally he reached the level
where his room was, thank God. He was sore from their lovemaking, and tired, and confused. The
marks on his arms tingled and he knew he could shift back into angel form anytime he wanted, which
freaked him the hell out. He never let guys fuck him on the first date. He never let himself get too
attached, either, because his screwed up genetics made it dangerous for him to fall in love. What
angel would want a partner who was crippled? What human would want to deal with an angel who
couldn’t shift? He sighed and rubbed his tears away.

Everything was different now. He could shift. Zeke was not only interested, but ready to

declare bond-vow. The problem was, Zeke was straight. Or almost straight. He was bound to
reconsider once he had time to think over what they’d done. That’s what always happened when a gay
man was dumb enough to think he could seduce a straight guy over to the dark side. And right now,
Nathaniel didn’t want to think about Zeke rejecting him. He’d had to leave, to protect himself from the
inevitable fallout. He just wanted to go to sleep. Maybe in the morning things would make sense
again. He headed toward the door of the suite.

“What are you doing wandering around the halls?” someone asked, just as Nathaniel was about

to touch the knob.

Nathaniel twisted around, putting his back to the wall. “Maion? Is that you?” He hid the knife

behind his back instinctively, not ready to share it with anyone. “What are you doing up? It’s the
middle of the night.”

His best friend came closer, holding up a glass of water. “I was thirsty.” He cocked his head

and looked Nathaniel over. “I could ask the same about you, but I probably know exactly where you
were.”

Nathaniel frowned, grateful that the dim lighting hid his newly visible legacy marks. He wasn’t

ready to tell anyone about his wings yet, not even his best buddy. Most especially not Maion, he
thought. Something had been bothering him about his friend for a while now. Maion wasn’t himself
these days. His quick temper and unpredictable moods had been very unsettling for the past several
months. “Where do you think I was?” he asked mildly, hoping to head off a confrontation.

“Why, fucking the hot weapons master, of course,” Maion said mockingly.
Nathaniel flushed, first embarrassed, then angry. “If I was, it’s none of your business.”
Maion laughed. “Sure it is. You’re my best friend, aren’t you?” He moved closer, putting his

hands on either side of Nathaniel’s head. “He’s not even gay, you know. No matter what you do, it’s
not going to end well for you.”

Nathaniel pressed his arms against the door, hard enough to bruise. “You don’t know anything

about Zeke,” he finally said, not sure where Maion was going with this. He didn’t like him being so
close. It was only chance that Maion hadn’t noticed his new marks.

“I can smell him on you.” Maion leaned in, his breath against Nathaniel’s cheek. “Why do you

always fuck everyone but me, Nathaniel?”

Nathaniel froze. “What?” He pushed away from the door, knocking Maion’s arm away. “What

are you talking about? We’re friends.” He slid into the shadows along the side of the hallway.

Maion snorted. “I’ve been pining after you for years and you never noticed.” His voice went

hard. “And you’re not even a true angel. You should be grateful for my affection, but instead we’re
just friends.” He spat the word out. “Aren’t I good enough to fuck?”

What? Nathaniel thought, staring at his friend, completely thrown by Maion’s words. He

couldn’t accept this. Maion had never said anything, never done anything to even hint at this. He
frowned as a familiar scent tickled his nose.

“Are you drunk?” He grabbed the glass from Maion’s hand and brought it to his face. Not

water. Shit. Angels rarely drank. Alcohol fucked up their shifting abilities and wrecked their
perception. There was nothing more dangerous than a half-shifted angel, stuck between forms,
miserable and violent. “You’re drinking vodka? What’s the matter with you? Are you crazy?”

His friend growled and knocked the glass down. It shattered into three pieces on the stone floor.

“Fuck you. And fuck this stupid delegation,” he said, pivoting and striding away.

Nathaniel stared. He had no idea what he should do. Should he go after him? Should he go back

to Zeke? “Fuck,” he muttered rubbing his face. The door opened behind him and he whirled around
defensively.

“Nathaniel? Are you okay?” his father asked, poking his head out.
Nathaniel let out the breath he’d been holding. “Dad. Thank God.”
Orifiel glanced down at the floor, eyeing the shards of glass and wet stone. He stepped out and

shut the door behind him. “You haven’t been drinking,” he said, no doubt at all in his tone. He
crouched down and began to clean up the glass. In a few quick movements, he’d put the smaller
fragments into the surviving base of the glass and stood up.

“No, I haven’t,” Nathaniel sighed, watching as his father placed the broken glass onto a side-

table. “Maion.”

His father nodded. “I suspected.” He frowned, then reached out a hand. “But something else has

happened.” He traced the marks on Nathaniel’s left arm lightly, then looked up and smiled.

Hell. His father never missed a thing. Nathaniel took a deep breath. “I was with Zeke, the

weapons master.” The blade in his right hand felt heavy. He kept it behind his back.

Orifiel’s eyebrows lifted. “What happened?”
“I woke up. I didn’t feel right. The next thing I knew, Zeke was standing over me. He asked me

to come with him, to talk.” Nathaniel laughed and ran a hand over the back of his neck. “I should’ve
known there’d be more than talking.”

“He’s your mate,” Orifiel said calmly. “I suspected.”
Nathaniel stared at his father. “How could you know that?”
“I saw the look you gave him when we first arrived. It was the same look I gave your mother

when I first met her.”

Nathaniel didn’t understand. “Mom wasn’t an angel. You weren’t mates.”
Orifiel chuckled. “That doesn’t matter.”
“This is crazy,” Nathaniel said, more confused than ever. “I can’t fall in love with someone

after only knowing him for a day.”

“Our mates are chosen by God. We always know, from the moment we meet. It’s as if

something inside us isn’t complete until we bond.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Nathaniel said, frustrated. “Mom wasn’t an angel. You couldn’t

bond with her.”

Orifiel shrugged. “True. But I still knew she was the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my

life with. You have something even rarer.” He gripped Nathaniel’s arm tightly. “Don’t let him go.”

Nathaniel stared at his father’s hand. “Zeke isn’t gay.”
“Did Zeke tell you that? Did he react badly?” Orifiel asked.
Nathaniel had to shake his head. “No.”
His father turned his arm over. “Look. Look at your arms. You’ve been blessed. You can’t

repudiate the ability once you’ve accepted it. And Zeke was the catalyst for you. He unlocked your
genetics, bringing you fully into your powers. I can see it on your skin and in your eyes.”

“Dad, stop it,” Nathaniel said, trying to pull away. His father wouldn’t let him.
“Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted?”
Nathaniel went still. “It’s not that easy,” he whispered. “We made weapons.” He slowly drew

his right hand from behind him and showed his father the dagger. “Look.”

Orifiel’s let go, eyes widening. “Oh, thank God.”
“Thank God? Are you kidding me? Dad, this is an angelic weapon. There haven’t been any new

ones created in decades. Don’t you get it?” His heart beat against his ribs as the mix of frustration,
fear, and longing swirled through him.

“Centuries,” his father interrupted.
“What?” Nathaniel didn’t understand.
“There have been no new weapons in centuries. We lost the art, long ago.” Orifiel gripped

Nathaniel’s wrist and drew the blade closer. “You are a weapons master. The color of your marks is
a true rendering. This is a good thing, Nathaniel.”

“I don’t know a damn thing about blades, Dad.” He willed himself to calm down. “Or about

fighting.”

Orifiel let go of his arm. “You don’t need to. The ability to create the weapons is instinctive, as

you’ve already discovered. And the ability to fight is not as important as the ability to see truth and
cut out infection.” He looked Nathaniel right in the eyes. “Weapons masters were always the most
clear-sighted among us. Being a weapons master is not all about the blade, Nathaniel. Seeing true is
even more necessary.”

Nathaniel thought about what he’d seen in Maion’s eyes just a few minutes ago. “I don’t know if

I want that power.”

Orifiel shook his head. “Would you refuse a gift because of fear?”
“Dad—”
“No, Nathaniel, don’t let doubt scare you into running the wrong way. You’ve always been a

good person. A wonderful son and a true friend to me as you grew up, and I value that. You are a
strong man and I’ve always been proud of you. But whatever happens, whatever you choose to do, I’ll
always love you.”

“Jesus,” Nathaniel laughed. “No pressure or anything.” His father always managed to make him

feel like he was still five years old.

Orifiel smiled. “I trust you to do the right thing.” He slung an arm around Nathaniel’s shoulders.

“Dawn will be upon us soon. Let’s get some sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning, I promise. And
maybe your guy will be able to persuade you into sense once you’re no longer stupid with sleep-
deprivation.” His eyes twinkled as he drew Nathaniel into their suite.

Chapter Six

The next morning, Nathaniel sat in the kitchen sipping his coffee and trying really hard not to

think about what Zeke’s face looked like when he orgasmed. He failed. With every swallow, he
remembered what it felt like to be that close to another person. With every blink he could feel Zeke’s
hands on his arms, tightening so that he couldn’t get away, not that he’d wanted to at the time. God, I
have it bad.

“Good morning,” Ariel said, walking into the room. Suriel was right behind her.
“Morning,” Nathaniel said, straightening up in his chair. “It’s a lovely day outside.” He tugged

at his long-sleeved shirt, making sure no one could see his newly formed legacy marks.

“It is,” Suriel said, smiling. “Sunny and cold. It may still be winter, but spring is just around the

corner.”

Nathaniel nodded, not sure what to say. Oh, by the way, I fucked your cousin last night. It was

awesome. Yeah, that would go over real well. Not.

“I hope you had a restful night?” Ariel asked him.
Nathaniel lied between his teeth. “It was lovely, thank you.”
She smiled at him, but he could tell by her expression that she wasn’t buying his answer. The

dark circles under his eyes probably gave him away.

“Good.” She poured herself some coffee and snagged a bagel from the counter. “Oh, by the

way. I ran into Zeke in the corridor. He said he needed a word with you.”

Shit, Nathaniel thought as Ariel’s gaze bored into his skull. She knew something was

happening, but she was clearly too polite to pursue it openly. “Okay,” he said, getting up. “I’ll go talk
to him now.” He walked over and put his cup in the sink.

On the way to the door, Ariel snagged his sleeve. Nathaniel froze as the corner of one of his

marks lay exposed. Luckily, Ariel didn’t look down. Instead she stared at his face. “I hope you know
how much Zeke means to us.”

Nathaniel swallowed and nodded. “I do.”
“Don’t break his heart,” she said, somehow divining his attraction to the weapons master from

thin air. Jesus, she was scary.

“Uh,” Nathaniel replied, not sure what to say. “I thought Zeke was straight?” he muttered,

playing stupid. He hated himself in that moment.

Ariel let go of him and laughed. “Yeah, that’s what he’d probably say, too, but remember, still

waters run deep.”

Nathaniel tugged down his sleeve and backed away, staring at the tips of her feet in their fuzzy

pink slippers. How could a woman who looked so tiny and innocuous scare the shit out of him so
badly?

“Um, sure,” he said. When he looked up, he realized Suriel, the sorcerer, had his eyes on

Nathaniel’s arm. Shit times two, he thought, almost panicking. He didn’t want to deal with this right
now. Hilariously, talking to Zeke suddenly felt like the safer option. He almost ran to the door,
wanting to get out of the range of Ariel and her mate’s too-perceptive instincts. “Thanks. I’ll be sure
to remember that,” he said, as he fled to the hallway.

****
Zeke stood at the top of his stairs, debating whether he should go to the suite and see if

Nathaniel was there, or head to the kitchen. He’d already eaten, but it wouldn’t hurt to check and see
if Nathaniel was hungry. Or maybe you should just leave him alone, Zeke, he told himself. He’d
already seen Ariel and asked her to let Nathaniel knew he was looking for him, if she saw him.

He rolled his shoulders, trying to work out the tension. It didn’t work. Every time he thought

about Nathaniel, he remembered what it had been like to hold him in his arms. He had no idea he’d
enjoy another man’s body so much. He thought he’d be upset when he woke up to find that he’d
suddenly turned gay, but instead, he felt nothing but relief. Finally, he understood that he’d been
looking in all the wrong places for family. Far from being freaked out, he felt more at peace than he
had in years. He had a mate. He had his gift. All he had to do was be patient and have faith that
Nathaniel would come around. After all, it isn’t every day that a man suddenly develops the ability
to fly, he thought, smiling as he leaned back against the wall. He closed his eyes, remembering how
Nathaniel had moved beneath him, both of them nude and desperate. A twitch of his cock told him
he’d better be careful if he didn’t want to stand in the hallway with a hard-on pressing against his
jeans.

“Zeke.”
He jerked, eyes flying open. The hall was empty. For a minute he thought his imagination had

conjured up an aural hallucination, but then he caught sight of the angel walking down the corridor
toward him. “Nathaniel. I was looking for you,” he said smiling.

Nathaniel tugged at his shirtsleeves. The soft cream sweater looked good on him. Zeke’s eyes

dropped to Nathaniel’s tight black jeans and bare feet. Damn, he’s gorgeous. He clenched his fists,
willing his libido to calm down.

“Yeah, I ran into Ariel and her mate in the kitchen,” Nathaniel replied, a strange look on his

face. “I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but she scares me. Like, a lot.”

Zeke laughed. “She’s a strong-willed female, that’s for sure.” His shoulders unknotted. It

seemed like Nathaniel had indeed calmed down a bit from their last encounter. Maybe if he played it
cool, didn’t mention anything about bonding, Nathaniel would come around.

“What did you need me for?” Nathaniel asked, fidgeting.
“I was hoping you would help me make some more weapons,” Zeke said. He resisted the urge

to grab Nathaniel and kiss him until he agreed.

Nathaniel’s face went tense. “I don’t know anything about blade work, you know that.”
Zeke licked his lips. Patience, he told himself again. “You don’t need to know. Instinct will

guide us.” He took a chance. “I know you feel like you’re being forced into something, and please
believe me, that’s the last thing I want to do. But we need blades. The survival of our species
depends on us having good weapons. Angelic weapons. And that will take both of us.”

Nathaniel sighed. “Everyone will know about us if I help you. I don’t know if I’m ready for

that. If I’ll ever be ready.” He looked away.

Zeke shook his head. “No they won’t. I won’t tell them.”
“What happens when you present them with these amazing new blades?” Nathaniel asked

skeptically. “They’ll want to know where you got them.”

Zeke shrugged. “I’ll tell them I finally learned how to forge them. It’s not a lie. It’s just not the

entire truth.” He leaned forward, his sense of urgency overriding his patience. “We need the
weapons. There are demons among us.”

His last words seemed to spark something in Nathaniel, thank God, because Zeke was running

out of excuses. He squared his shoulders and nodded. “You’re right. I know you are. If I can help fight
that evil in any way, I will. I have to. No matter what it takes.” He glanced down the hallway, looking

at something Zeke couldn’t see. “The truth is staring me in the face. It’s my duty to face it,” he
whispered.

****
Nathaniel stood behind Zeke again, in front of the forge. The leather apron was more

comfortable this time with his sweater on, providing some insulation. Slowly, carefully, he placed his
hand on Zeke’s neck, bare skin to bare skin. The heat between them flared immediately, energy
dancing back and forth over their skin and through their bones.

“God,” Zeke gasped, breathing hard.
“Yeah,” Nathaniel agreed, hoarse with his sudden arousal. Everything about Zeke appealed to

him: his private nature, his dedication to his work, his honor. Not to mention his amazing physical
attributes, he mused, thumb slowly circling over Zeke’s skin.

“If you keep stroking me, I’m going to grab you and have you up against the wall, Nathaniel,”

Zeke told him.

Nathaniel grunted as the image of Zeke pinning him to the wall flooded his brain. “Shit,” he

muttered, forcing his thumb to lie still.

“Okay,” Zeke said, taking a deep breath. He grabbed the blank with the tongs and flipped on the

switch to the induction heater. Nathaniel moved with him, keeping his hand against his lover’s skin.
This blank was a little longer than the daggers they’d made last night, but still thin enough to fit
through the coils.

“What are we making?” Nathaniel asked.
“A sword for Gabriel. Right now, only Suriel has an angelic weapon. He has the old sorcerer’s

sword. It can channel his and Ariel’s energy. Our Alpha needs a weapon that won’t fail him,” Zeke
explained, putting the blank into the coils.

“We have our daggers, too, don’t forget,” Nathaniel murmured, thinking of the blade he’d left in

his quarters. He hadn’t wanted to leave it behind, but he had no sheath for it yet. He couldn’t walk
around the castle with a naked weapon in his hands. He put the problem aside and focused his will.
Energy leaped through him, easier this time, and he fed it to Zeke. It merged with Zeke’s energy and
flew down their arms to the cherry-hot steel.

“Think about the Alpha’s duties as our leader. He’s strong and honorable, but also a strategist.

We need to put that into our work,” Zeke said.

Nathaniel nodded, using his sense of the Alpha to hone his energy. As soon as Zeke did the

same, the blade flared white and Zeke pulled it out of the coils. A bolt of heat buzzed through
Nathaniel, making his cock ache. Making weapons with Zeke had a strangely sexual element to it.
Maybe it’s because I can feel Zeke’s energy sliding through mine? he wondered. It felt like making
love. He took a slow breath, wondering if Zeke felt as heated as he did. He looked at the blade they’d
just made. It had cooled rapidly into the silvery sheen of an angelic weapon, blessed with properties
that would aid Gabriel in his work.

“Beautiful,” Nathaniel breathed. He didn’t remove his hand. He didn’t want to stop touching

Zeke. “Now we need one for Raphael.”

Zeke nodded and carefully set aside the new weapon. Using the tongs, he picked up another

blank. Nathaniel moved with him, trying not to think about how much he wanted to rip off Zeke’s
clothes right now. The new blank was a touch longer and thinner than the other, but Nathaniel already
sensed how it would serve Raphael. He concentrated, thinking about the Omega’s kindness and open
heart, then he merged his energy with Zeke’s. The flash this time burned even hotter. He gasped,
clenching his fingers on Zeke’s neck.

“God,” Zeke said, panting as he carefully extracted the blade from the forge. It cooled, the

metal glittering like silver water. He set it aside, then tossed the tongs to the floor. They clattered
against the stone. They hadn’t even needed the anvil for these blades. They were getting better at this.

Nathaniel’s hand slipped as Zeke moved, but his arousal didn’t fade. Instead, it flamed hotter.

Zeke roughly jerked at his apron, flinging it down, then he grabbed Nathaniel and brought the shorter
man up against him, fists in his apron. “I’m sorry,” he said, just before he took Nathaniel’s mouth.

Nathaniel moaned as Zeke kissed him. Energy flared between them, worse than before. He

trembled, then began frantically undoing Zeke’s pants.

“Oh no you don’t,” Zeke growled, yanking at Nathaniel’s apron. He got it off, then pulled off the

sweater.

Nathaniel barely felt the cool air on his skin. He was too busy trying to undo the buttons of

Zeke’s shirt. He fumbled, then lost patience and just yanked the sides apart. Buttons went flying.

“Fuck,” Zeke said, kissing him again.
Nathaniel scrabbled at Zeke’s jeans, getting the button undone, but then Zeke pushed him

backwards. When his back hit the glass divider between the bedroom and workshop, he shuddered.
Zeke roughly yanked at his pants, then went to his knees. Nathaniel almost fell, but Zeke grabbed him
around his hips.

“Stay there,” he said, then pulled down Nathaniel’s jeans and underwear all in one quick

motion.

Nathaniel’s dick sprang out and Zeke swallowed him down.
“Jesus Christ,” Nathaniel said, hands going to Zeke’s hair. Watching his cock disappear into

Zeke’s mouth was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

Zeke didn’t fool around. He sucked almost hard enough to hurt. Nathaniel was at the edge

immediately. He gasped, knees trembling, then Zeke pulled off. “No, not yet.”

“Are you kidding me?” Nathaniel panted. His dick hurt.
“I want you to fuck me,” Zeke said.
Nathaniel blinked, trying to think. His arousal made it difficult, but Zeke looked up at him, eyes

steady.

“That’s a big step,” Nathaniel finally said.
Zeke smiled. “Yeah.”
Fuck. That smile alone was almost enough to make Nathaniel cum. He took a shaky breath. “Get

on the bed.”

Zeke stood up and walked into the bedroom, shoving down his jeans as he went. He toed off his

boots then stretched out on his rumpled covers. He looked like everything Nathaniel had ever wanted.
For a moment, he just stood and stared. Zeke was impressively muscled from all of his time working
in the forge. His erection jutted out thick and hot. Nathaniel wasn’t sure what he wanted to do to him
first. All his doubts about making love and committing to Zeke seemed to have fled out the door. He
couldn’t think about anything except how much he needed to touch him.

“Come on,” Zeke said. He trailed his fingers from his thigh up his chest teasingly.
Nathaniel stared at the trail of hair leading down to Zeke’s groin. As if he were dreaming, he

cupped himself, slowly feeling the throb of his dick against his palm. “Are you sure?”

“Come on, Nathaniel. I’m getting bored,” Zeke taunted.
Nathaniel kicked off his shoes and pants, then strode over to the bed. “Lube?”
Zeke pointed to the nightstand. Nathaniel fumbled with the drawer, careful not to touch Zeke.

The moment their skin touched, all bets were off. The energy that flared between them would make

him lose all his control. He grabbed the bottle and clicked it open. He drizzled a generous amount on
his cock, spreading it around. He dripped more on Zeke, watching as the glistening fluid slid down
around his balls.

Zeke panted, hips jerking. “God, touch me, Nathaniel.”
Nathaniel nodded and moved in, lips going right to Zeke’s prick. Energy flared between them.

He sucked on the tip, careful not to touch anything else, then he brought a lube slick finger to Zeke’s
hole.

“Yeah, come on,” Zeke said, shoving down on Nathaniel’s finger. “Fuck me.”
Nathaniel closed his eyes and prayed for control. The energy flying through their bodies had

him shivering. He added another finger, unable to be as gentle as he’d like. In apology, he licked
Zeke’s cock, then sucked on it as he played with his ass. Zeke grabbed his hair and pushed himself
into Nathaniel’s mouth, then back onto his hand. It was the hottest thing Nathaniel had ever seen. Zeke
was completely abandoned as he moved with head thrown back and hips arched. When Nathaniel
added another finger, Zeke groaned, his thighs moving faster.

“Fuck,” Nathaniel muttered, going to his knees. He couldn’t get enough air.
Zeke spread his legs, holding himself open. “Yeah, Nathaniel. Come on.”
His intention to take it slow evaporated the moment he lined his cock up with Zeke’s asshole.

He pushed gently, but then Zeke wrapped his legs around Nathaniel’s hips and shoved himself down.

“Zeke, God.” Nathaniel’s breath whooshed out of him as he watched Zeke work himself down

onto his dick: spine bowed, hands behind him. Nathaniel’s thighs burned as he held himself steady in
this position so that Zeke could do all the work. When Zeke lifted himself up, Nathaniel caught him,
hands going to his ass. “Jesus, you’re a pushy bottom,” he gasped. Zeke was so tight and hot he
worried he was going to spill his load right the fuck now. He bit the inside of his cheek, hoping the
pain would help him calm down.

Zeke huffed out a laugh as his thighs worked. “Fuck me, Nathaniel.”
Nathaniel groaned, then began to move. His cock was on fire as the energy danced between

them, and then Zeke met him halfway. They rocked together, so close that Zeke’s dick rubbed up
against Nathaniel’s abdomen.

He’d been so close to climax, for so long, it felt like hell. Or maybe heaven. When Zeke’s ass

clenched, Nathaniel couldn’t hold on any longer. He thrust up hard, cock jerking inside Zeke, and then
Zeke went over the edge, too. Heat spread between them as they held onto each other for a long time.
When Nathaniel’s thighs finally gave out, they toppled to the bed. He tucked his head into Zeke’s
neck, unwilling to move away. He didn’t care about the mess. He didn’t care about his fear or his
vows to take it slow. He just knew he never wanted to leave Zeke’s side.

Chapter Seven

Zeke watched Gabriel and Raphael handle their new weapons in the back courtyard. It had been

two weeks since Nathaniel had arrived, and in that time, they’d forged several more blades in
between bouts of lovemaking. Two of them had gone to the young students studying with Raphael:
Haniel and Jeremiel. A short knife had gone to Ariel. The two swords they’d forged were for the
Alpha and Omega. They practiced with them fluidly, moving through the forms Zeke had taught them
with grace and power, despite the cold weather. He nodded to himself as he watched, pleased that
they’d already mastered the new moves he’d shown them earlier that week.

Despite Nathaniel’s worries, when Zeke had given them their new weapons, he hadn’t had to

lie. Gabriel had asked nothing. He’d simply said thanks. Raphael had accepted his sword and given
Zeke a penetrating look, but hadn’t pressed for any details, either. Zeke understood that they suspected
what was happening, but appreciated their restraint. He needed time to convince Nathaniel to stay,
and it had only been a short while since he’d come to Castle Archangel, after all. Since they both had.

Gabriel and Raphael didn’t have a simple bonding, from what I’ve heard. The first

homosexual Alpha in history? That has to have given them some perspective, Zeke mused. He let
the curtain fall shut, blocking the view. He headed for the door, crossing the library swiftly. It was
nearing dusk and he wanted to shower and change before dinner. Nathaniel had already gone back to
his room to clean up and change. They’d spent a lot of time together, forging weapons, making love,
and just talking. The desperation to bond with Nathaniel made his desire sharper every time they
touched. He knew it was because Nathaniel hadn’t quite accepted what was happening and the bond
was straining. Angels weren’t meant to go so long before claiming their mates.

Even more frustrating, Nathaniel hadn’t even attempted to fly yet. It was as if the marks on his

arms weren’t quite real to him. As if they were simply decoration, when in reality, they were much,
much more. Every time Zeke mentioned taking him for a quick flight, Nathaniel ran from the room. If
he put it off much longer, physiology would take the choice from him. Angels had to shift every few
weeks or suffer through an unwanted change. He’d hate it if Nathaniel had to go through that.
Increasingly more unpleasant scenarios ran through his head as he tried to figure out how to convince
his lover to fly. Why was it so difficult for Nathaniel to do something so utterly natural?

Maybe he’s afraid that you’re going to turn on him, Zeke pondered as he walked down the

hall. There’s been too much change in his life, too fast. He stopped and leaned back against the wall
near the kitchen, rolling that thought around in his mind. Nathaniel had always been nervous about
Zeke’s supposed straightness. His lack of experience with other men made him an unknown. A risk.
Someone who could really hurt Nathaniel if he let himself fall too deep.

The thing was, after all the years he’d spent traveling, Zeke knew himself better than most men,

and he knew there was no going back for him now. He held no regrets about falling in love with
Nathaniel, but the only thing that would convince his mate of his commitment was time. “And there’s
nothing I can do about that except hang onto my patience and hope he realizes what’s right in front of
him,” he murmured, rubbing his face.

A sudden noise had him whirling, hand going to the blade strapped to his thigh. Voices drifted

down the hall, angry and sharp. Zeke shoved off and began walking again, moving closer to the
castle’s foyer. The voices grew louder. When he reached the stairs, he realized the sounds were
coming from just outside. A cold draft of air wafted past him. The front door was slightly ajar. He

frowned and opened it wider, then slipped into the deepening dark.

****
Nathaniel stretched on the bed, massaging the muscles of his pecs. He was sore from helping

Zeke in the forge. Sore from all the mind-blowing sex. And sore from the martial art forms Zeke had
talked him into practicing this past week. He’d learned them as a boy, but hadn’t done any serious
work with them for years. He was paying for it now.

“We’ll be leaving in the next few days,” his father said from the chair near the window.
Nathaniel went still, his heart giving a sick, slow thump. The thought of leaving made him feel

ill. “Oh?” he said mildly, trying not to show how upset he was.

His father gave him a look.
Nathaniel put an arm over his head. Over his eyes. “What?”
“When are you going to stop being so stubborn and claim your mate?” Orifiel asked.
“How can you be so sure about all this?” Nathaniel asked. “I’ve only known Zeke for a couple

of weeks.” He dropped his arm and lifted his head up, glaring at his father. “And he lives here. Plus
he’s straight.”

Orifiel laughed. “Do you know how long it takes to fly from Oregon to New York?”
Nathaniel frowned. “What are you talking about?” He thought of the planes, the flight

connections, the annoyance of sitting in an airport. He’d done plenty of traveling for his job, and he
was tired of it, to be honest. He was looking for a position at a newspaper or radio station where he
could surf a desk for a while. Someone who didn’t have to drive or fly or take a train every day of the
week.

“Nathaniel, I love you, but you can be really obtuse sometimes.” Orifiel got up and walked over

to the bed. When he sat down, he touched Nathaniel’s arm. “You can fly, remember?”

Nathaniel stared at his forearm. He hadn’t forgotten, not really. He just wasn’t used to thinking

about having wings. “I don’t know, Dad,” he said quietly. “I’ve never tried it.”

“What? Seriously?” Orifiel sounded shocked. “Hasn’t Zeke taken you out yet?”
“No. We’ve been busy with the blade work. And other things,” Nathaniel admitted.
“My God, that man has the patience of a saint,” Orifiel muttered.
Nathaniel flushed. “I thought I knew what I wanted, Dad. And then all this happened and I feel

like someone tossed me out of the boat. And I can barely tread water.”

His father stood up and began pacing. “You need to get out there. Spread your wings and fly.

And I don’t mean that metaphorically.”

“Why are you so set on this?” Nathaniel watched his father walk back and forth.
Orifiel wheeled around and tapped on the glass. “We’re not meant to be caged up. Angels are

creatures of the air, Nathaniel.” He stared out at the clear sky for a moment, then turned and frowned
at his son. “God didn’t give us our gifts so that we could lock them up. He gave them to us to use
them. You should understand that more clearly than most.”

Nathaniel stood up and joined his father. “You’re saying I need to use it or lose it.”
“Yes.”
Just as Nathaniel was about to argue that God didn’t take that direct a hand in things, a noise

from outside distracted them both.

“Is that Maion?” Orifiel asked, staring down over the front of the castle steps.
Nathaniel leaned closer, putting his face to the glass. “Oh my God,” he breathed, then he

fumbled with the latch of the casement window. “That’s Zeke. And the young students.”

“And Maion,” Orifiel said grimly.

Nathaniel finally got the window open. The clash of weapons splintered the silence, and then a

burst of flames scarred over the stone. Snow and ice melted and a large bout of steam hissed into the
air. Shouts and a cry of agony had Nathaniel climbing up onto the windowsill. His blade was in his
hand. He didn’t recall drawing it.

“That was Zeke,” he said, preparing to leap. From the corner of his eye, he saw movement. The

fog billowed and another gout of flames scoured over the steps.

Haniel, one of the younger angels, yelled and charged, blade raised. Behind him, his friend

Jeremiel stood, face frozen with horror. Raguel, Nathaniel’s tormentor, was lying on the ground
bleeding. He’d obviously been trying to protect the teens. Nathaniel didn’t have time to dwell on
Raguel’s unexpected decency. The mist swirled, and Maion’s face appeared within its depths for a
split second. His best friend’s eyes flared blood red in the dusky light.

He held up his fist, face stretched into a terrible facsimile of a grin, and then he opened his

fingers. His palm glowed, like embers and ash. As Nathaniel watched, more flames licked out,
catching Haniel along his arm and up his shoulder. He dropped his blade as Jeremiel tackled his
friend, shoving him into the snow on the side of the steps. Horribly, the flames didn’t subside. Haniel
screamed, long and ragged and pain-filled.

“Dear Jesus,” Orifiel gasped, hand on the window to hold it open. “Maion’s been demon-

bound.”

“Is that another way of saying he’s been possessed?” Nathaniel asked tensely, thigh muscles

bunching. Haniel screamed again, even as his friend rolled him into more snow. “Why aren’t the
flames going out?”

“Yes,” Orifiel replied. “And demon fire is more like liquid than regular flame. Think of

napalm.”

“God, that’s evil.” Nathaniel didn’t have time to ask any more questions. Maion had turned his

gaze to Zeke and Nathaniel would not let him harm his mate. “Get the Alpha. And the others,” he told
his father, right before he leaped into the air, wings shifting to carry him where he needed to go.

****
Zeke twisted, letting the flames hit his blade instead of catching on his flesh. The angelic

weapon absorbed the heat, purifying it, but the blade writhed in his hands, as if alive. The hilt grew
hot and Zeke pressed his will onto the weapon, trying to insulate his flesh from the evil licking up the
metal.

“You think you can have Nathaniel? He’s mine. He will always be mine,” Maion hissed,

raising his palm higher. “You are nothing. Blood and ash and dust.” He spat to the side. His saliva
was so hot it hit the snow and sizzled like acid.

“You cannot own another person,” Zeke replied, turning his blade so that some of the flames

would flare back to Maion.

The other angel laughed and sipped the fire out of the air, like a dragon swallowing his own

breath. With no warning, he thrust out a second hand and the flames licked along Zeke’s cheek. He
cried out, whipping his head back as his skin heated. His blade caught most of it, thank God, so his
flesh didn’t ignite. Poor Haniel was still moaning in the snow. Zeke couldn’t help him. He hoped that
Raphael was able to heal him, but first he had to take care of Maion.

“I will own Nathaniel like a master owns a slave,” Maion said, striking again. Zeke slashed,

deflecting the fire, unable to do anything except react. Fighting defensively was no way to survive, but
he had no choice. Maion was too dangerous. Too strong. He needed help. The front door opened and
he turned, hoping to God that it was Gabriel or Suriel come to add their strength to his.

Maion turned, too, throwing balls of acid fire at the door. Zeke yelled a warning and Gabriel

ducked, letting the flames spatter onto the stone walls. Behind him, Raphael eased out, eyes on the
injured angels. Zeke needed to distract Maion so that the Omega could help Haniel and Raguel.

“You aren’t angel enough for Nathaniel,” Zeke taunted, slicing his weapon across his body in a

flashy maneuver. “You aren’t even man enough for him.”

Maion growled, throwing more flames at him. Zeke ducked. The fire was hotter this time and he

struggled with it, trying to turn it away from his torso. His face stung where he’d almost been burned
earlier, but from the corner of his eye he saw that Raphael had made it to Haniel. He relaxed
minutely, and that was his downfall. Maion tossed more flame at him, faster than he expected. Zeke
swerved, catching the tail end of the flames on his weapon, but some of it flared down his arm. He
cried out, dropping his blade and then Maion was on top of him, fists clenched and red-hot. Zeke
grappled with him, straining to keep those hands from his body. When a shape flung itself out of the
windows above them, he flinched, knowing instinctively that it was Nathaniel. His mate. Who had
never flown.

“God help us,” he murmured, staring up at Nathaniel, muscles locked against Maion’s

destructive evil.

“God won’t save you now, weapons master,” Maion said, shoving harder against Zeke’s hold.

“It’s too late. Nathaniel will be mine.”

“You will never own me, Maion,” Nathaniel yelled.
Maion let go, twisting to meet Nathaniel in mid-air, wings bursting from his shoulders. Instead

of feathers, scales crawled down his body.

Nathaniel dove to meet him, slate-grey wings outstretched like shadows behind him. He held

his dagger in both hands. When Maion tried to grab him, Nathaniel twisted, slashing with his blade.
Maion cried out, blood spattering across the snow. It steamed and Zeke used the cover to get to his
feet and launch himself into the air. Nathaniel was fighting Maion, moving faster than Zeke had
thought possible. He shifted, desperate to help, and launched himself up. He grabbed Maion’s neck
just as he was about to burn Nathaniel’s wings, and yanked, hard, spoiling his aim. The fireballs
rocketed past Nathaniel.

“I’ll hold him!” Zeke yelled. Nathaniel nodded, face grim.
Maion cursed at him as he writhed, his scaled wings slicing at Zeke’s forearms. Zeke ignored

the pain, tightening his hold, but then Maion’s body shifted beneath his grip, the skin flowing like hot
liquid. He had to let go. When Maion screamed, his legs lengthened, melding together.

Horrified, Zeke knew that if they didn’t kill him now, he would change into a full-bodied

demon. He darted him, grabbing him again. As he grappled with Maion, his eyes met Nathaniel’s. His
mate’s face was determined even in his grief.

Nathaniel drew his arm back, then slashed down, plunging his dagger into Maion’s heart

without hesitation. “Maion, forgive me,” he whispered, turning the knife and flatting it up against a
rib.

Maion vomited fire, spine twisting. Zeke let go and the creature plummeted to the ground.

Everything happened in slow-motion. Maion’s wings stretched out, like leather parachutes, and then
they disintegrated into black ash. His body hit the ground hard, head bouncing. His arms lay
outstretched, fingers lax. In the air, Nathaniel faltered and Zeke caught him in his arms. Nathaniel
gasped and abruptly, Zeke could hear again. The sound of Haniel’s harsh breathing while Raphael
worked on him cut him to the bone. If only he’d been faster…

“Oh God,” Nathaniel moaned, head falling to Zeke’s shoulder. Their wings fluttered against

each other and Zeke slowly lowered them to the ground. Maion’s dead eyes stared at them accusingly.
He took deep breaths, trying to keep from falling. His cheek burned from the fire and his arms stung
from the cuts he’d received. Nathaniel felt like sorrow in his arms. It wasn’t until his mate returned
his embrace that something eased in his chest.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured, holding Nathaniel tighter.
“Don’t be,” Nathaniel sighed. “None of this is your fault. If I’d only noticed his strangeness

sooner…”

Zeke shook his head, then froze. Maion’s body was burning from the inside out. Nathaniel lifted

his forehead from Zeke’s shoulder and watched as his friend’s mortal flesh turned to ash. The black
silt dirtied the snow. Nathaniel dragged in a shaky breath and Zeke’s soul ached for his lover. No one
should have to kill a friend. He was about to apologize again when Nathaniel put his fingers on
Zeke’s lips, stilling his voice.

“I choose you, Zeke, twin blade to my soul, warrior to warrior, master to master. You are my

equal, my heart, my sharp edge. I pledge myself to you, hilt to blade, as God wills, in this life and into
the heat at the end of creation,” Nathaniel said, loud and clear. His hands slid to Zeke’s cheeks.

Zeke swallowed. Behind Nathaniel, he could see Gabriel watching them alertly. He took a

shaky breath and spoke the words he’d carried in his heart for weeks. “I choose you, Nathaniel, twin
blade to my soul, warrior to warrior, master to master. You are my equal, my heart, my sharp edge. I
pledge myself to you, blade to hilt, as God wills, in this life and into the heat at the end of creation.”

“Heard and witnessed,” Gabriel murmured, but Zeke barely noticed.
For some reason, the words of claiming felt different as he spoke them this time. Richer. More

real. His body vibrated with familiar energy, rushing from him into his mate, and then back again.
Looking at Nathaniel, he realized it was the same spark that moved between them when they forged
metal together. Their bond was already in place, even though Nathaniel hadn’t spoken the words
aloud before. It had been in place since they’d created their daggers weeks earlier, the angelic
weapons witness to their claiming.

Nathaniel smiled, the knowledge of their bond in his expression. “I’m sorry I made you wait so

long before I said the words.”

Zeke dropped his forehead down onto his lover’s. “Don’t be. I would rather you choose me of

your own free will and not just because it was your duty. This is better.”

Nathaniel kissed him, hard. “Don’t ever leave me.”
“I won’t.” Zeke hugged him tightly. “I promise.”
When Nathaniel murmured his own promise back to Zeke, he knew he’d finally come home.

Epilogue

“I guess you’re happy to be heading home,” Nathaniel said to his father.
Orifiel nodded. “I am. I’m looking forward to the quiet.” He grinned at his son. “This place is a

little too noisy for my taste. And Raguel has healed enough to travel.”

Nathaniel snorted. Castle Archangel was not quiet. Not anymore. More angel delegations had

come to visit and declare their loyalty to Gabriel. The halls were slowly filling up with as pockets of
their people came from all over the world to see their new Alpha. Unfortunately, many of them
learned that the new resurgence of their species wasn’t all good. They suspected demons had slowly
been infiltrating the weakest members of the clans, taking over their bodies and using them to further
their own evil aims. Maion wasn’t the only one who’d been corrupted. One clan had spoken of a
missing daughter. Another had talked of a seemingly happy member who’d committed suicide. They
believed that many of these problems stemmed from the same demonic cause. Nathaniel sighed as he
thought about his best friend. “At least Raguel has gotten better. It won’t be so bad traveling with him
anymore,” he told his father.

“That’s true. I’m pleased with how much he’s changed.” He tilted his head. “And I think you’ll

be happy here with your mate, even in the midst of our new difficulties. You belong here.”

“I don’t know, Dad. I can’t help thinking that there was something I should’ve done earlier to

help Maion,” Nathaniel said.

“There was nothing you could do. I suspected that something was wrong, but even as his leader

I couldn’t tell he’d been demon-bound.” Orifiel rubbed his face. “If he’d been outright possessed, I’d
have been able to tell, but that was a subtler transformation.”

“I’ve never heard of being demon-bound.”
Nathaniel’s father looked at him for a long moment before replying. “To be demon-bound is to

be seduced willingly.” He sighed. “Maion had to have accepted the demon’s presence into his soul.
He wasn’t forcibly possessed. He welcomed the evil.”

Nathaniel sat down, feeling sick. “So he wanted it.”
Orifiel shrugged. “Maybe not consciously, but somewhere deep inside him, yes. He wanted the

power.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” Nathaniel said, his grief sharper now.
“I know. And I’m truly sorry that this happened to your friend, Nathaniel. If I could’ve stopped

it, I would have.”

Nathaniel shrugged and looked away. His father was a good angel. He knew he would’ve done

everything he could if he’d known about Maion. Across the room, early morning sunlight decorated
the old wood with warmth. It was a stark contrast to the cold night of the fight. Was it only a week
ago that he’d taken Maion’s life? It felt longer.

“Don’t dwell on it. You did what you had to do,” his father said, walking over to the window.

He opened the curtains wider. “We must rejoice in the light when it is here and remember the dark
times with wisdom.” He turned to his Nathaniel. “You should spend time with Zeke. Enjoy the
beginning of your life together.”

Nathaniel knew his father was right. “I know.” He forced the memory of Maion’s death out of

his mind, at least for now. “And I will. He’s showing me his favorite spot to fly today.”

“Good.” His father pulled him into a rough hug. “It’s long past time for you to learn how to fly.”

****
A few hours later, Nathaniel grinned as he opened his arms wide and soared along the

ridgeline, Zeke by his side. He’d spent his childhood yearning for the skies and his adulthood
reconciling himself to the knowledge that he would never feel the wind like that. To be here, now,
flying with his mate was a gift he would never take for granted.

“See? It’s all instinct,” Zeke said, swooping past him on a thermal. It was an unusually warm

and sunny day in late winter. Most of the snow had melted. Beneath them, the brown ground looked
less like a desolate landscape than it did rich earth, ripe with potential.

Unable to verbalize the joy riding his spine, Nathaniel instead tackled Zeke in midair. They

spiraled down until they managed to synchronize their wings, lofting them skyward. Sunlight flared
around them as they turned, blue skies and light so dizzying Nathaniel wanted the moment to last
forever. Zeke’s body moved strong and hot, in perfect sync with him. Nathaniel wrapped his arms
around his mate, reveling in the way his cock pressed against his hip.

“Oh God,” Zeke murmured, kissing along Nathaniel’s jaw.
Nathaniel slid his hands up to Zeke’s face, rubbing his thumbs along the dark stubble on his

cheeks. He brought their lips together, mouths dueling for control.

“Zeke,” he gasped, hands going for his mate’s jeans.
“Are you crazy?” Zeke asked, even as he helped Nathaniel unbutton his pants. “This is insane.”

He moaned when his erection sprang out.

Nathaniel wrapped his hands around it, wings beating harder. The air was thin up here, but he

wasn’t cold. Not even close. He shoved at his own pants, not caring when they fell to the ground. His
cock bumped against Zeke’s, already wet at the tip.

“If only you could fuck me up here,” he muttered teasingly, wrapping his fist around them both.
Zeke arched his back, shoving his hips against him. His dick swelled, rubbing against

Nathaniel’s, like hot silk. “Impossible,” he ground out through clenched teeth.

“Maybe,” Nathaniel said, bringing his legs up. Zeke’s cock slipped from his grasp, grazing his

balls. He was so damn close. He wriggled around until his back was against Zeke’s front.

“Jesus, Nathaniel, what are you doing?” Zeke instinctively grabbed his hips, his wings keeping

them both aloft. Nathaniel had to fold his down tightly. Zeke leaned over and put his forehead
between Nathaniel’s shoulder blades. “I can’t hold us both up here for long.”

“We don’t need long,” Nathaniel said, moving so that Zeke’s cock slotted up against his ass.

“Fuck me, come on.” He laughed when Zeke finally realized that he’d prepared for this. He’s lubed
up on the ground, right before he met Zeke for this outing. Zeke’s prick grazed his hole, then slid in,
nice and easy. Below them, the mountains glowed in the late afternoon light. Nathaniel didn’t know if
he was imagining things, but everything seemed touched with gold. The air, the cirrus clouds in the
distance, and the long, rolling mountains of their home. Zeke’s hands around him were warm and
strong. When he began to move, Nathaniel cried out. His wings opened on either side as Zeke pressed
himself closer. There was just enough room for him to help them fly.

“Nathaniel, don’t stop,” Zeke said into his skin.
Nathaniel had no intention of stopping. He flew with his mate, the energy racing through them,

between them, and then suddenly, he was climaxing in the middle of the afternoon, in the middle of the
sky. His cock pulsed without anyone touching it, setting off Zeke’s orgasm. His mate groaned, hands
tightening as heat filled Nathaniel’s body.

“That was insane,” Zeke laughed several minutes later, gently disengaging from Nathaniel.
Nathaniel grinned, looking down at himself. He was a mess and he didn’t care. “Think we can

sneak back into the castle without anyone noticing?”

Zeke shook his head. “Not a chance.”
“Oh well.” Nathaniel didn’t feel particularly remorseful. In fact, he felt pretty much the

opposite. He wanted everyone to know that Zeke was his mate. He smiled. “I love you.”

Zeke actually flushed. Nathaniel grinned wider.
“I love you too,” Zeke said gruffly. “Can we go home and take a nap now?” Behind him, the sun

lit his slate-grey wings from behind, gilding the edges with gold. He looked gorgeous.

Nathaniel reached out a shaky hand and stroked down the outside of Zeke’s wings, loving that

he had the right to do this. Utterly grateful that he could fly with his lover, after a lifetime of believing
he was somehow less than angelic. Less than human, even. He knew that Zeke would love him even if
he could never fly again. “Yeah. Let’s go home.

The End

www.erinmleaf.com

Other Books by Erin M. Leaf:

www.evernightpublishing.com/erin-m-leaf

If you enjoyed this book, you may also like:

The Dragon’s Lover by Marie Medina

Claiming Their Human by Eva Evans

Blind Beauty by Elyzabeth M. VaLey

Evernight Publishing

www.evernightpublishing.com

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