The Forsaken(29)

“Really? I thought you commanded them to take care of your needs.”

“And what would those needs be?” he asked, moving his lips closer to her head. He felt her body stiffen and instantly regretted teasing her, even as he took great delight in seeing Isabella, his warrior angel, blush a pretty shade of pink.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, so don’t dare deny it.”

Carefully lowering her back to the bed, Nat tucked her once again under the covers. “I am not denying it. Things here are different and I’ve discovered ordering you only makes you angry.”

“Go figure, Sere.”

“I do not want to fight with you, Isabella, but it was wrong of me to leave the other night. I apologize for being insensitive to your needs.” Nat could tell by the way Isabella’s eyes widened she was mulling over his words. He used that time to tuck a few stray golden hairs of hers behind her ears.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

He smiled. “No one will stop me.”

“When I am better I will,” she said, a light smile filling more of her eyes than her mouth.

“Of that, I have no doubt.”

A rare, heartfelt smile flew across her face. His heart leaped with joy, hoping for once he was making progress.

“Isabella, you will never again do what you did the other night. Am I clear?”

“Back to ordering, are we, Sere? You don’t own me.”

“I don’t want to own you, but to be with you,” he mumbled. She bit her lips and Nat knew she wished to curse him.

“Nathanael, there’s no hope for us. I don’t take to orders.”

Nat cupped Isabella’s chin in his hand, forcing her to look at him. “There is always hope. I have no idea what Cherubs need. Seraphim are not allowed to associate with Cherubs until our chosen is picked by the Mistress. And you, Isabella, are my chosen. I would have it no other way.”

He watched her digest that tidbit of information as he carefully withdrew his hand. He longed to lean in for a kiss but knew she’d probably punch him in the gut. Isabella tempted him like no other and part of him didn’t like that. He needed his reasoning. She moved away from him, grasping the blankets like they were her lifeline. She was skittish being so close to him and he understood exactly how she felt.

“That reminds me,” she said, sitting up straighter as she folded her hands into a delicate prayer-like hold.

He wasn’t buying it. She had an anxious and slightly vulnerable look on her face. Two traits he had yet to see.

“You said you heard I was to be your chosen—why? Why would the Mistress tell you I was to be your chosen when I am the Forsaken?”

Nat knew eventually he’d have this conversation, but he thought he’d have more time. Looking away from her, he sought how best to proceed, feeling like war was about to be waged once again. Nothing with Isabella felt easy.

“Let me guess. Your father told you.”

“It’s not like you think.”

This time, Isabella laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound. Bitterness and sadness fueled her tense expression. “You tell me what I should think, because what I think is that your father told you your heavenly wife had been chosen and she happened to be the Forsaken One and he asked you to petition the Mistress for a second choice. Tell me I am wrong.”

Nat wished and prayed he could, but the truth of her words cut like the Kita sword—hard and thoroughly through his heart.

“My bet is that our loving Mistress did not grant you a second choice.”

“Isabella…”

“You tell me I’m wrong, Nathanael. Tell me that you did not ask for another. That you willingly wanted me. Me, the Forsaken One. In case you’re wondering how I know they call me that, I’ll let you in on a little secret.”

Her voice dropped an octave, causing his gut to twist. The truths she threw at him always left him breathless and angry, and neither trait was becoming for a Seraphim.

“At night, when I’m asleep, I can still hear the voices of my fellow Cherubs in the heavenly realm. Sometimes I’m even blessed with a glimpse of them and their splendor. It’s a tease, something the Mistress likes to throw my way as a harsh reminder of all I’ve given up. I know my name and those of my fellow Cherub sisters have been etched into the I’mault Tablet. I know my crime to dare to bear arms, to rebel against Cherub tradition, is a tale told to my fellow sisters to ensure obedience. Am I wrong?”

Nat jumped up from the bed and weaved an agitated path from her door back to her bed. “You think I don’t want you. By the blessed scribes, I just sung to you all night. I’ve never done that for anyone before, not even my…

“Your what?”

“My brother.”

She didn’t understand, and he wasn’t in the mood to explain things to her.

Glaring down at her he said, “You are wrong. What my father wants for me is not what I want. Yes, I asked for a second choice. Yes, the Mistress declined. Am I unhappy with her choice? No. You are not perfect, but neither am I. You’re not what I expected to want…but I do. I will admit your difference takes some time to get used to, but I’m trying to adapt. I’m trying to understand and place myself in your predicament.”

Silence.

“Did you really sing to me?” she whispered.