Archangel's Light (Guild Hunter #14)(110)

It was only after Kaia that he’d become obsessed with that charm.

“And no,” Illium said, “Kai is engaged to be married to a mortal who worships the ground on which she steps.” No anguish in his voice, nothing but a kind of affectionate happiness.

Aodhan truly exhaled for the first time since his return to New York. “I want you home—I’ll look for you until the day you land.” Then he admitted another thing. “I’ve just stocked up on ultramarine blue, silver, and multiple other oil paints. I’m going to paint you diving from your aerie in the gorge, that day in the storm, when you almost got struck by lightning.”

Delighted laughter down the line. “I’ve never seen you so furious. I swear you had sparks shooting off you.”

“I’ll probably be furious all over again while I paint. I can’t believe you decided to dance with lightning.” Aodhan had lost half his immortal years that day, he was sure of it. “Come home soon, or I’ll end up with so many paintings of you they’ll call it my Bluebell era.”

More laughter that faded off into something softer, more intimate. “How long do you think your Bluebell era will last?”

“All the eons of our existence.”





Six months later

Lightning cracked the sky as it had that day when Illium danced with death, rain thundering to the earth, but Aodhan took off from the Tower roof with no hesitation. According to all his calculations, and—given Illium’s last check-in—the other man had to be about four hours out from the city.

Aodhan wasn’t about to wait any longer.

Illium’s spoiled and adored Smoke was already at the Tower, having come home in a cargo plane a week prior—in the care of the pilots, both of whom had pets of their own and could be trusted with the precious cargo.

She’d waited by the window since her arrival, and he knew she watched for Illium.

Just like Aodhan.

Rain stabbed at his cheeks, dripped from his hair, slid off his wings in tiny jewels, but he flew on. The wind wasn’t strong enough to be a real problem, but the sky hung heavy overhead—and lightning set the horizon to glittering white fire. Aodhan’s heart pounded; Illium was coming from that direction.

“He’s about the fastest angel alive,” he reminded himself. “If he could dodge lightning bolts at a hundred and fifty, he can do it ten times faster now.”

Aodhan flew on, uncaring of the rain that saturated his hair and sleeted off his sleeveless combat leathers. He’d dressed that way for a sparring session with Dmitri, hadn’t bothered to change in the aftermath, his entire attention on Illium’s journey home.

Then there he was.

The merest smudge of blue on the horizon as the sky boiled black, draping the entire world in shadow.

Aodhan pushed himself to go even faster.

Illium was laughing when they met in midair, his face thinner than when Aodhan had left China and his muscles impossibly more defined. “Adi!” He slammed his arms around Aodhan as Aodhan wrapped him up in his own arms, only their wings keeping them aloft.

“Fuck, it’s good to be home!” Illium yelled over the sound of the storm. Rain dripped off his ridiculously beautiful lashes, ran in rivulets down his cheeks, gathered in the small hollow at the base of his throat before running in runnels down the rest of his body.

Aodhan grinned, every part of him more awake, more alive, than it had been the entire time they’d been apart. “You’re at least two hours out from New York!”

“But you’re here!” Clasping Aodhan’s face in his hands, he pressed his lips to Aodhan’s.

His lips were cold and tasted of the rain, the hands he wove into Aodhan’s hair strong and with that possessiveness that was an integral part of Illium. Aodhan fell. All the way into his Blue.

When Aodhan wrapped a gentle hand around Illium’s throat, Illium made a deep sound and kissed him harder. Lightning hit the water beside them, sparking light off Aodhan’s body and feathers, and still they kissed, two angels who’d finally come home after too long alone.

“Well,” Illium murmured against his lips when they parted. “That was . . .” A hint of color on his cheeks. “It wasn’t weird. I mean, I was worried it might be. Especially after the time since our last kiss. But it wasn’t?”

Hearing the question at the end, Aodhan laughed and this time, he was the one who kissed Illium, his grip firmer and mouth demanding. And it wasn’t weird.

Because it was Illium.

It had always been Illium.

Illium’s neck muscles moved under Aodhan’s touch, his arms steel bands around Aodhan. The power in the hold should’ve made Aodhan flinch, made him afraid, but this was the angel who’d been his friend, his partner, and his shield through eternity. Illium would die for him without blinking, and he knew every detail of Aodhan—good and bad—and still loved him.

Illium, whose flaw was that he loved too hard.

Pressing his forehead to Illium’s when they broke the kiss this time, Aodhan squeezed his nape. “It’s not weird. It’s us.” It was that simple. This was their story and they’d be the ones to write it, the ones to decide which turns to take.

Illium’s smile was a wild thing that held a softness not many people were ever privileged enough to see. “What about the other stuff?” he asked, even as he spread his hand over Aodhan’s heart. “You said I hold on too hard to my people.”