The Forsaken(46)

He stood, staring down at her. She noticed his red, glowing eyes were replaced with irises so deep brown they reminded her of melting chocolate. Since landing on Earth, Shea had developed a sweet tooth and dark chocolate had been her favorite. No more. She’d stick to white chocolate from now on.

“I had to see if you were okay.”

His words, unexpected, caused her to snort. Shea knew the sound was unbecoming of a Cherub but that had been the last thing she’d expected. “Okay? I’m great. Can’t you tell?”

He smiled. Shea had been correct. His dimple made him look boyishly charming, and did not belong on a demon face. His skin, a tanned brown, made him look Greek. The wild, wavy, charcoal-colored hair that reached his shoulders did belong to a demon, for no angel had hair as exotic as his. It dawned on Shea then she didn’t know his name and she wanted to. He surprised her by folding his wings in and kneeling beside her on the floor by her bed.

A demon kneeling? Shea wondered if she dreamt this fantasy because it certainly started to feel surreal.

Speaking scripture, the words flew out of his mouth. Shea cried at him. “What are you doing?” But she knew exactly what he was doing even though it should be impossible. How? How could a demon know the ancient words of bonding to tie two souls together? Why would he do this to me? Tears freely fell unchecked. Her entire body shivered.

He reached out and tenderly wiped away a tear. Tenderness coming from a demon did not make sense. But she had experienced that when he darkened her dreams. He’d offered kind and caring words when she had no one. And, he said he’d save her twin.

“Why?” she croaked, flinching from his caress. Heat blossomed inside of her and her eyes widened with the shock of how delicious his touch had felt on her skin.

“I find myself citing the ends justify the means over and over again in my head yet in this case I feel…I feel that they are hollow. I watched you try to cut yourself after you thought I had left.”

Shea shivered, clutching the duvet tighter while attempting to move further out of his reach.

“At first I did not believe what I saw. Why would a Cherub attempt suicide? You do realize that if you had succeeded, you’d end up for eternity a slave to my father’s realm? We made a deal. I won’t let you down.”

Worrying her bottom lip, Shea wanted him to stop talking. His voice had a strange effect on her body. Maybe I’ve got a fever.

“Ending your life will not make things easier for you. And what of your twin.”

“I sought to keep my honor,” she spat, feeling the surge of anger roll past the arousal of his voice. “And you said you’d save her.”

“I will save her in due time. Well, my Cherub, your honor has been avenged. I have claimed you.”

“You cannot claim me. You are demon and I am angel.”

“Do you honestly think we are that different? And tell me you did not feel the power of the words. I dare you.” He chuckled at her.

The nerve of him. Shea felt like he mocked her and that further sparked her anger because she had felt the power of the words. She flushed. “The Mistress is the only one who can appoint my mate. This might be a concept you do not understand but you can’t just claim me—it’s a preordained thing.”

He scooted to sit on the bed beside her, ignoring her angry glower. Shea scurried to the other side of the bed to place desperately needed space between them. A hand snaked out so fast, drawing her covered form to his that it wasn’t until he loomed over her, when the scent of him, a delicious mix of heat and wild spices slammed into her that she realized the true taste of fear. It must have shown through her eyes, because his hold loosened and he allowed her more space beneath him. Still, his large body, full of bunched muscles unnerved her. A thousand miles would be to close, she thought darkly.

“My beautiful fa’minua, what if I told you your lovely Mistress came to me?”

“You lie,” said Shea, trying to talk her heart into slowing down. “And do not call me that word.”

“What word? Beautiful?”

A dark eyebrow perked up as he looked at her. Shea wished he’d look elsewhere. A simmering liquid of heat bubbled deep inside of her making her feel something she did not want to feel for this man. Correction—he’s not a man, or an angel. He’s a demon.

“Get off me,” said Shea.

“Not until you tell me what word?”

By the holy path of light, is he flirting with me? Shea rolled her eyes.

He laughed. “The word?”

“Fine. Fa’minua. I’m not.”

He moved up farther on his arms, bracing his weight on his palms while looming over her. The look he gave her sucked all the breath from her and caused her insides to flutter in nervous anticipation. His head lowered in a slow tease. Shea tried to look anywhere other than at his lips. She lost the battle. She noticed his eyelashes, so long they should belong to a girl, but on him they made him tempting. His strong nose and square jaw with refined cheekbones belonged on a classical angel face, not a demon.

“It has been a long time since I’ve spoken angel speak but I am sure I still remember my teaching. Your voice is fa’minua—the purest of heavenly sounds. You are the golden note. Correction, you are my golden note.”

“I felt nothing when you said the words,” snapped Shea, pleading with her eyes for him to get off her. He ignored her. He moved his lips lower until his warm breath teased her moistened mouth. Shea stilled, hating she recalled exactly how they had felt on her.