Angel Betrayed (The Fallen #2)(90)

And then . . .

Darkness.

Her feet hit the ground.

“Seline?”

Broken, rough, Sam. Her eyes opened. He was there. Tall, strong, but with hollowed cheeks and wild, shadowed eyes. Pain etched deep lines on his face. She hurried toward him, and heard someone—Az?—mutter, “Wings . . .” from her side. She didn’t look his way because she couldn’t look away from Sam.

Her fingers trembled when she touched Sam’s face.

“I dreamed about you,” he whispered.

She tried to smile. Couldn’t. “And I dreamed about you.” Her heart beat so fast she hurt.

“I tried to save you.” Gruff, torn from him.

She shoved back the memory of fear and pain and of his eyes—on hers. Afraid, angry. Desperate.

Seline stood on her toes and kissed him. This wasn’t a dream, he was real now, and she needed to feel his mouth against hers.

His fingers brushed over her wings, and a shiver skated down her body.

“She’s here, now let me out,” Uriel snarled.

Keeping Seline’s fingers twined with his, Sam stepped back. He kicked away the white powder that circled Uriel.

“What is that?” Uriel demanded. “Nothing should hold us, nothing.”

“We can hold each other. Our own powers can lock us in. Bind us.” Sam exhaled slowly. “The powder is made from angel wings. What the hell do you think happens to the wings when we fall? They burn, turn to ash and dust, but they keep a glow of our power.”

Seline tightened her fingers around his.

Sam stared at her. “I wanted you to be free.”

And she’d just . . . wanted him.

“Are you happy?” he asked as his gaze searched her face. “Tell me you are, and I’ll just walk away.”

Angels weren’t supposed to lie. She was learning the rules, but not fitting in at all. “I miss you.”

She saw him flinch. Then he inhaled. “Sweetheart, you smell like roses.”

An angel’s scent. Not her, not anymore.

“Roses and paradise.” His lips flattened. “I miss the jasmine.”

Such a simple, small thing. She’d used jasmine body lotion, before.

I never even realized he’d noticed.

Seline felt like she was breaking apart. She wanted to grab him and hold on as tight as she could. She just needed to know— “I love you,” he told her, the words rumbling like a growl. That was what she needed. He pulled her closer. “I love you. You got to me, Seline, and I can’t—I can’t let you go.”

“You don’t have a choice.” Uriel’s cool voice. The earth trembled beneath them as Uriel left his containment. “You went too far today, Sammael. No one dares to imprison me.”

But Sam didn’t look scared. He should have. He just laughed and didn’t glance at the powerful punishment angel. “For Seline, I’d dare anything or anyone.”

The ground ripped open. Smoke blazed forth, and the heavy scent of brimstone filled the air. Seline didn’t need to hear the heavy growls to know what was coming.

“Time for your punishment, Sammael.” Uriel strode toward the opening he’d made in the earth. “You made a deal with a crossroads spirit, a deal that I’ll make sure you keep, even if he doesn’t.”

Seline saw the claws first, and she shuddered. Her neck seemed to throb and screams wanted to burst from her throat as she remembered death.

Sam pushed her behind him. “It’s okay. I swear, I won’t let him touch you. I swear.”

“Sammael.” Uriel’s voice boomed. “The prey is Sammael!”

The hound leapt from the ground and hurtled right toward Sammael.

Seline screamed. Az jumped out of the shadows.

And Sam grabbed the beast and broke its neck in one quick twist.

The hound collapsed on the ground.

“Now, now . . .” Uriel shook his head. “You know it won’t be that easy.”

Thick black hair covered the hound’s body, and a long white streak swiped across its right eye.

Seline stared at the beast and blinked, shocked. Wait, that was— My hound.

Uriel had dared to raise her hound to come after Sam? The bastard. Her wings stiffened, then stretched out behind her.

Bones snapped, popped, and the hound slowly shook its head. Then that head tilted back, and Seline saw razor-sharp teeth glinting.

“Don’t worry, Seline,” Uriel told her quietly, “your hound will get your vengeance.”

No, no, it wouldn’t. “I don’t want vengeance against Sam!” Sure, making Rogziel suffer through another very painful death was near the top of her to-do list, but Sam? No. He’d fought to save her. He shouldn’t suffer.

She could still hear his tormented screams in her mind. He’d been so desperate to save her.

The hound launched. Its teeth sank into Sam’s arm.

Sam didn’t make a sound.

“You can’t kill the hound,” Uriel said, and for someone without emotions, the words sure sounded like a taunt.

“We can sure as hell slow the thing down.” Now this was from Azrael. He had a knife in his hands. He jumped forward and drove that knife into the hound’s side.

The beast’s howl . . . hurt her.