Archangel's Enigma (Guild Hunter)(63)



That metal hand, it was back, crushing her chest. “Did you ever have to do that?” she whispered.

“Yes, when I was created. I decided to live and to be me.”

It should’ve been a nonsensical statement, for what child remembered its birth? Yet she knew it for pure truth—Naasir didn’t lie. “I’m glad,” she said. “I like you.”

A glint of silver under the curl of his lashes. “Lie down beside me.”

Heart aching, she didn’t fight her need or his. Going down on her side beside him, she propped her head on one hand . . . and spread a wing over his chest.

His smile held her captive, the hands with which he petted her feathers unexpectedly gentle. Though he stayed away from the highly sensitive areas, the caresses made her toes curl.

“Pretty feathers,” he murmured, lashes lowered as he indulged himself. “Do you know you have bronze filaments that catch the sunlight?”

“No, I don’t.” Andromeda knew her wings weren’t striking, but they were strong and they took her to the freedom of the sky. It was more than enough.

Naasir smoothed out a feather. “Look.”

When she did, she caught the faint glimmer of a bronze filament hidden among all the others on a middle primary covert. Wonder unfurled in her. “How did you notice that?”

“Because I notice you.” With that comment that stole her breath, he began to stroke her wing again. “Alexander—tell me your thoughts.”

Andromeda looked at the notepad she’d dropped on the bed by her breasts. She’d been using it to organize her thoughts. “I think there’s a high chance he’s in his former territory, but not beneath what was his palace.”

She blew out a breath. “I tried to direct Lijuan’s people away from the entire region, but I don’t think Xi was convinced.” The tightrope she’d walked in Lijuan’s throne room made her breath turn shallow even now. “If he does go there, I’m certain he’ll focus on the palace.”

“Rohan is very strong—he’ll delay them.” Naasir bent his forearm behind his head. “Had you asked him, he’d have volunteered to be the first line of defense for his father.”

“Should we warn him?”

Naasir took out a sleek black phone in answer. “Jelena had a spare,” he told her before making a call to Raphael. “The sire will speak one-to-one with Rohan, tell him Lijuan’s plans,” he shared with her after a short conversation. “Rohan’s loyalty to his father is an indelible part of him.”

Trusting his judgment, she nodded. “What about Favashi?”

“She hasn’t chosen a side—and if Alexander rises, it’s near certain Favashi will no longer be the Archangel of Persia. Rohan won’t risk telling her.” With that frank summary, Naasir placed his hand flat on her wing, the touch possessive. “If not below the palace, then where?”

Wanting desperately to erase the distance between them, she picked up her notepad and showed him the crude map she’d drawn. “There’s a highly complex cave system about a five-hour flight from the palace.” More than distant and remote enough to offer total privacy.

“Parts of the cave system are so deep that no one has ever successfully explored them, though many have attempted it. Most,” she said, the tiny hairs on her arms standing up, “give up after suffering injuries. The others have disappeared without a trace.”

“Alexander is Sleeping with one eye open?”

“He was a general.” Giving in to need, she began to pet Naasir’s hair. His rumbling purr made her thighs clench, her breasts feel as if they were swelling . . . and her heart threaten to break.

Forcing herself to speak past the lump in her throat, she said, “One mortal explorer who barely made it out said that at the far end of the caves, deep in the earth, there’s a great chasm filled with molten lava.” Andromeda hadn’t been able to stop imagining the terrifyingly beautiful sight ever since she’d read the explorer’s rambling, fragmented report.

“Most people discount his report because his sanity was broken by whatever it was he saw, but the report’s full of too much detail for me to do the same. A number of the things he said line up exactly with how I imagine an Ancient might protect himself.” About to tell Naasir more about what the explorer had stated, her mouth suddenly fell open.

She sat up in bed, eyes wide. “Maybe what the explorer saw wasn’t lava at all, but molten metal—Caliane says Alexander had a strong affinity to it.”

Silver eyes gleamed at her. Moving without warning, Naasir grabbed one of her arms and hauled her across his chest.

“Naasir!”

“To get to the metal-lava chasm,” he said, totally ignoring her frown and holding her flush to the hard heat of his chest with one arm around her waist, “we’ll have to infiltrate Favashi’s territory.”

Propping up her chin on her hands, the feel of his heart beating under her a deep pleasure, she surrendered to the indulgence of being so close to him. “You can sneak in anywhere. I’m the problem.” She made a face.

“I need you.” Blunt words that fell like a gift over her. “You carry knowledge about Alexander that could cause us to change our path midway.”

“Yes.” Her theory was based on historical records and instinct. There was no predicting the actuality. “I wouldn’t let you go alone anyway. It’s dangerous.”

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