ASA

Fallen Angels 3

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ALISA WOODS

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Check out all of Alisa’s bestselling Paranormal Romance...

READING ORDER

Shifters in Seattle
True Alpha (Book 1)
Dark Alpha (Book 2)
A True Alpha Christmas (Book 3)

River Pack Wolves

Jaxson (Book 1)
Jace (Book 2)
Jared (Book 3)

Wilding Pack Wolves

Wild Game (Book 1)
Wild Love (Book 2)
Wild Heat (Book 3)
Wild One (Book 4)
Wild Fire (Book 5)
Wild Magic (Book 6)

Fallen Immortals
Kiss of a Dragon (Book 1)
Heart of a Dragon (Book 2)
Fire of a Dragon (Book 3)
Chosen by a Dragon (Book 4)
Seduced by a Dragon (Book 5)
 Touched by a Dragon (Book 6)
Loved by a Dragon (Book 7)
Marked by a Dragon (Book 8)
Claimed by a Dragon (Book 9)
Of Bards and Witches: Leonidas’s Story (Book 10)

Fallen Angels
Tajael (Book 1)
Oriel (Book 2)
Asa (Book 3)
Razael (Book 4)
Micah (Book 5)
Tempted (Book 6): A Fallen Angels Story
Kiss of an Angel (Book 7): A Fallen Angels Story

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 Asa (Fallen Angels 3)
Copyright © 2018 by Alisa Woods
May 2018 Edition
All rights reserved.
Sworn Secrets Publishing
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or
by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without
written permission from the author. For information visit: Alisa Woods
Cover by Steven Novak

Asa (Fallen Angels 3)

Paranormal Romance

ASA
I am an angeling in shadow—and Wrath is the Sin that broke me.
The shadow realm has entered the war, and I am here for it. A decade ago, an angeling from Elyon’s
Regiment savaged the woman I loved, getting her with child and breaking her soul. She took her own
life, but I know who’s responsible—and I live to see Elyon die. I have a plan, but when I stumble upon
his nursery of pregnant humans and angeling children, it’s a strike against my long-dead heart. I cannot
just leave them to suffer in Elyon’s chamber of horrors...

MOLLY
I’m an ordinary girl who met a hot guy. . .and ended up in Hell.
Lady Bad Luck has haunted me my whole life. My first boyfriend committed suicide. My awesome
parents were killed when I was in college. And then I got laid off from the prestigious accounting job I
worked so hard to land. A hot guy in a Starbucks convinced me my luck was turning around—but after
one wild night, I ended up pregnant, a prisoner, and apparently a baby-machine for demons. Yeah, my
luck is just that good. But I’m not a quitter. I’ll find a way out—for me, my sisters-in-Hell, and my
baby.

In a war that threatens mortals and immortals alike, those in shadow have the most to lose—if the
Warrior Angels awaken, it will spell their doom. But when the path to victory leads straight
through the Valley of Temptation. . .can a dark angeling resist the sweet promise of Love?

FALLEN ANGELS is a follow-on series from the bestselling FALLEN IMMORTALS series. It contains
sexy hot angels of light—and shadow.

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 Chapter One

“T HE SCENT OF DEMON IS SO THICK , YOU ’ D THINK THEY WERE ROASTING

them,” Laylah called over the night breeze.
Asa lofted a little higher above the city, coming level with the shadow
angeling flying beside him. “The humans?” he scoffed. “If they could manage
that, they wouldn’t need us.”
The moonlight glinted off her black wings. They were flying mainly on
magic as they patrolled Seattle, but a fair wind off the harbor made for easy
gliding. He relaxed into a steady pace beside her as he scanned the streets
below.
“Admit it—you enjoy being around them again. The humans.” A laugh
danced in her voice. “I see how you look at them.”
“That is far from Truth,” he said without breaking his visual search.
Demon scent hung like a haze over the city—the entire nightscape seemed
infected with it—making it difficult to pinpoint a source. The fae and their
machinations and lies… they had been using vampires to infect the humans
with demon essence, changing their DNA until their darker sides were
ascendant. It skirted the deep-magic bond that kept the fae from actually
killing the humans they loathed and feared. But they were desperate to stop
the humans’ technology lest they break into the immortal realm and stop the
fae’s endless cruelties and sex parties. Asa would just as soon the fae were
wiped out—angeling and fae were ancient foes—but he doubted the humans
would accomplish it, even with their device. Apart from the demon-infected,
they were too pure of heart. He could sense their thousands of souls even in
the darkest night, shining with that impossible allure, the Virtues in all their
glory singing to him as they did to every angel and angeling.
He was created to love them, but Laylah was wrong—being among them
again was torture, not pleasure.
Asa caught a whiff of vampire, but it quickly faded into the miasma of
demon, human, and angeling, both light and shadow. There was no telling any
of it apart.
“They don’t Tempt you?” Laylah pressed, cocking an eyebrow as they
glided over the glaring neon of the streets below. “Even a little?”
He kept his gaze on a straggle of drunken humans walking the nightlife.
“No.” Humans were nothing but Temptation. But he was only truly Tempted
once in the way Laylah meant—the sin of Lust—and that wasn’t even what
caused his Fall from the light into shadow. Not directly anyway.
“I don’t believe you,” she said.
“I do not care.”
Laylah put on a burst of speed, cutting in front of him and blocking his
view of the streets momentarily. He had to pull up to avoid colliding with her,
arcing high then looping back. “Do you wish my blade in your back?” he
hissed as he shot past her again.
“See?” she gloated, and it rubbed him raw even though he couldn’t say
why.
He glowered but reduced his speed again, allowing her to catch up. It was
to make the scanning easier, he told himself, not because he cared what her
point was.
She knocked wings with him as she came alongside—a friendly touch he
tolerated from few angelings. In Truth, only from her. Theirs was the sole
friendship he would count in his ten years in Razael’s Regiment, other than
the angel himself.
“You see them just as I do,” she chided him. “Beautiful. Tempting. We’re
risking our lives for this lot…” She swept her hands across the city. “Why not
take a taste while we’re here?”
“Because we’re not here for tasting.” He scowled. Her fall was from Lust
—as for most in shadow—and there was no lack of indulgence in that Sin
back in their Regiment. Light angelings couldn’t touch light-kind, but among
the shadow, literally nothing was untouchable. But Razael, their leader, was
unlike other dark angels—he operated by a code, and that code strictly
forbade the creation of new members of their cursed lot. Razael rescued the
Fallen, he did not create them. “And what if Razael knew you were tasting
humans?”
“It’s not as if I will get with child!” She tossed him a look like he wasn’t
right in the head.
In Truth, all this time among humans probably was messing with his
mind. And sex with humans wasn’t strictly forbidden—merely the creation of
a new child, a pure soul, born into a world largely unworthy of it. That was a
conscious choice, separate from the act itself.
He dropped his voice—for in Truth, he knew better the dangers of tasting
the forbidden fruit of human love than she did. “It’s not wise, Laylah.”
“Not wise?” She arched her brow again. “Or do you simply not wish me
to experience the pleasure… without you?” The flirtation was there, in her
eyes, as it always was—seeking after him until she tired and went with
another.
“I am not jealous—”
“No,” she cut him off, words sharp. “You never are. But you are in need
of a good fuck.” Her wings beat the air, buffeting him with their wind.
He sighed. “We have a job to do. You’ll have to slake your Lust with
demon killing tonight.”
Her anger still simmered. “You enjoy a good demon slaying as much as I
do,” she accused, and that was probably true.
“Not as much as I’ll enjoy shadow blood on my blade.” He returned his
gaze to below. They weren’t just patrolling for demon-infected humans—or
the vampires who had infected them. The true threat on the streets was other
shadow angelings, specifically those from Elyon’s Regiment, although he
could have garnered more allies by now. Elyon’s lust for the destruction of
humanity was escalating, undaunted by the recent ambush Asa had helped the
light angelings orchestrate. Elyon loathed humanity, believing rightly that
God loved them more than angelkind, but how was that anything but logical?
Humanity at its worst had nothing on the depravity of the shadow realm. And
Elyon’s Regiment was the worst among them—as Asa knew first-hand.
Vengeance was a Sin, but one Asa would gladly indulge in. He could smite a
hundred of Elyon’s angelings, and the dark angel still would hardly pay for
his atrocities.
“I can’t scent anything from this height,” Laylah complained, her wings
twitching with frustration. “Call me when you’re ready to break that Chastity
vow.” Then she banked away, dipping down to skim the roofline.
She was probably right—not about the sex, but about the scenting.
Asa tucked his wings and dove. The ground came up fast. He flexed his
wings to brake then glide above the rooftops. Laylah drifted south, and he
soon lost sight of her midnight wings and black-clad body. He was armed
with battle gear as well, not that any mere clothing would stop an angel blade.
A noise—a voice—rose above the rush of wind in his ears and caught his
attention. He couldn’t make out words, but it sounded of distress. He banked
toward it, peering into the shadows of alleyways and darkened corners where
the streetlights were out. This part of Seattle was run down, half abandoned
warehouses, half humans packed too numerously into apartments—this was
where the desperate and the hungry lived. The vulnerable.
The cry came again—to his left. He sped up, toward the alley ahead, and
dipped a wing hard to swerve into it. Below… a woman held up against a
wall by a man.
They were having sex.
Asa pulled up short, hovering in the air above them, still cloaked.
He hadn’t indulged in the sexual act himself, but he’d seen every variant
in the shadow realm—often, it was difficult to discern from violence. Not that
rape didn’t occur in Razael’s Regiment, but seldom—his dark lord forbade it.
And Asa wasn’t here to interfere in the acts of humans, no matter how
depraved. The man did not stink of demon, so…
Then the woman cried out, “No! Please! Stop!” and everything in Asa
jolted to stillness. The cruelty of memory slammed into him, and he was
transported back ten years. The time of his Fall. Not from Lust… but from
Wrath. He hadn’t witnessed the rape of his beloved, but he imagined it thus—
a dirty back alley, an act of violence, her pleas for help unanswered…
unanswered because he never heard them…
This isn’t his Ellie…
 He didn’t care.
Asa roared a righteous cry, screeching vengeance from the sky as he
dropped like a stone upon her attacker. His blade would have no effect on a
human, so it remained in its sheath. He would rip this man from his violent
intent and toss him down the alley. And endeavor not to kill him. Maybe.
Just as Asa reached the man, who hadn’t even turned at the sound of Asa’s
cry, so intent was he on his vile act… he shifted.
What?
Power pulsed through the air, slamming Asa back into the brick wall
opposite the pair. The man had transformed, losing the rough jeans and
ragged jacket, now standing in a long, shimmering white coat that draped to
his knees. The woman had changed as well—she now wore a flowing white
dress and a smirk, her helpless cry transformed into a laugh.
Glamour.
Worse… those ears were far too pointed to be human.
Asa scrambled to get his feet under him. Even two fae against a single
angeling—his odds were still very good. He launched himself from the wall,
going for the male first, but the female shot something that glinted gold. He
ducked, but it snagged his wing—and seared him, burning pain straight
through his blood feathers. What magic is this? A golden lasso pulsing energy
cinched tighter on his wing as the female yanked. Genuine fear raced through
him as the male surged more energy against him, knocking him down. Asa
tried to twist away—opening a portal might be his only escape—but the
golden leash held him still in the human world.
He roared his anger, whipping his wing forward to jerk the female fae
from her feet and send her bashing against the wall of the narrow alley. Then
he yanked his blade from its sheath and slashed at the golden magic-bond. No
use. Instead, he pulsed an energy attack at the male—who was attempting to
bind him with a second golden lash—sending him flailing down the alley. Asa
grabbed hold of the magic tether with his hands, the magic searing him and
making him growl through the pain, but he reeled in the female, dragging her
across the floor of the alley as she still had hold of the other end. Her eyes
went wide, and she dropped it, but she was already close enough. He lunged
and grabbed hold of her before she could twist away, drawing his blade quick
against her neck.
“Release me or die, fae,” he hissed in her ear.
With a flutter of her fingers, the golden magic that bound him
disappeared.
Honor alone made him shove her away rather than slit her throat.
A decision he instantly regretted as four shadow angelings decloaked
above him.
One threw his angel blade before Asa could move—it embedded in his
chest, a blow that forced him to stumble back. Two others dove down on him.
He screamed his warrior cry and lurched into the air to meet them. A single
powerful slash of his blade took one by the neck, leaving his head to tumble
to the alley below. The other kept a sly distance, grabbing hold of Asa’s wing
so he couldn’t twist away. Asa spun in the air, but couldn’t wrench him loose.
A third aimed his dagger true, catching Asa full in the chest again, but Asa’s
blade in return took him right between the eyes. He fell. Asa sent the one with
a hold on his wing bashing against the brick wall. His grip was loosed…
It was only a moment of release, but that was all Asa needed.
He twisted, opened an interdimensional doorway folding space and time,
and slipped through. He’d fled the alley, once again cheating the death that
seemed to haunt him. With a pulse of overpressure, he arrived at the
rendezvous spot near the humans’ citadel of science and their infernal
dimensional-travel machine. It was a rooftop heavily guarded by light
angelings and the coordination zone for those like him who were in shadow
but drafted to the cause.
He hoped they wouldn’t kill him.
He sunk to his knees and stared dazedly at the two shadow blades
protruding from his chest. Already his blood gushed from his body as if it no
longer wished a home there. The first blade came out easily enough—just a
slicing pain that nearly sent him crashing head-first into the rooftop. The
second fought him, and by the time he wrenched it free, he was screaming as
if being disemboweled.
His hands were drenched in his own blood.
A light angeling dropped onto the rooftop beside him. Through the haze of
pain, Asa could barely see him.
 “Holy magic, Asa.” The voice he recognized—Tajael. An angeling out of
Markos’s Dominion. They’d fought side by side more than once.
“Not fatal.” There was blood in his mouth. So much blood. It gurgled in
his throat. “Probably.”
Tajael knelt beside him. “Lie down.” He was gesturing to someone else,
someone above the rooftop.
Asa couldn’t lift his head. He didn’t lie down so much as… fall. Face
first. He felt it more in the twin wounds on his chest than the gravelly scrap
against his cheek.
“Angels of light,” Tajael cursed, then turned him over. But there was
nothing an angeling of light could do for him—everything light was poison to
shadowkind. Had the two blades been made of light, not shadow, he would
already be dead.
His eyes struggled for focus as he stared blankly into the sky. Above him
flitted a heavenly host. Light angelings and shadow. Circling and hovering,
dark wings and white, mixing and blurring against an endless starry night.
Asa imagined the End of Times would look so. Only with more blades. And
screaming. And death.
His death might come sooner than that after all.
“It is not your time,” Tajael said.
Had Asa spoken that aloud? His mouth worked, but he heard nothing,
only felt the dribble of blood running from it.
A rustle next to him. “Holy fuck, I leave you alone for one minute…” It
was Laylah.
He smiled, and it tasted of iron. “Ambush.” Holy angels of light—his
wheeze sounded like death. “Fae… ambush…”
“Sure it was, tough guy.” Laylah was poking at him, which was both
painful and unnecessary, it seemed to him. “Now shut up so I can heal you.”
Then her mouth found his, and he almost laughed. All these years, Laylah
wished for kisses from him—no, that wasn’t right; she wished for fucking—
and now that she had him prone on a rooftop, that was all she could think of.
He was delirious.
That became quickly clear as the surge of energy pulsed through him. Of
course, Laylah was giving him a life kiss, not some mere sexual act. A dark
blessing from a shadow angeling. Probably the only thing that could snatch
him back from the abyss. He felt it coursing through him, remaking his
wounds, knitting his flesh. Easing his pain until he was lightheaded with the
lack of it. The blood would take time to replace itself, restoring his magic as
well as his life. But he would live. He could feel it now.
When she was done, she sat back on her heels, looking drawn.
Holy magic… he must have been close to death for it to take such a toll on
her.
He struggled up to sitting. Tajael helped him. A small cheer went round
above him, his angeling audience applauding his recovery. It still felt strange
to have such things in mixed company—shadow and light working together.
But it was good to hear, nonetheless.
“Looks like you’ll live,” Laylah said, scouring him with her gaze.
He wiped his bloody hand on his leg then reached to wipe the blood from
her face—a smear she acquired when she saved his life. “Thank you,” he said
softly.
His touch moved her—too much—so he withdrew his hand. He would tell
her again when they didn’t have so many onlookers. He glanced at Tajael,
who was watching them closely. “But all should be warned. The fae are
here… and they’re posing as human.”
Tajael frowned. “Is this part of Elyon’s counter-attack?”
“I’m unsure. But they are certainly working with his forces.” Asa winced
as he worked his way to his feet. His body was rescued from death, but
healing would take time. “I need to warn Razael.”
Tajael nodded. “We’ll double our watch here, make sure the fae aren’t
trying to infiltrate operations at The Point.” That was the company building
the dimensional travel machine—the one which would bring humans to the
immortal realm.
As if humans had any place there.
But his opinion on such matters was unimportant. He served Razael, and
even more important, would devote his last breath to defeating Elyon. And if
that dark angel wanted the humans stopped, then Asa was all for them
succeeding… and taking the fight to Elyon in every possible way.
Asa gave Tajael a nod, then a grateful look to Laylah. “Will you return
with me?”
Concern lit her eyes. She looked to say something, but then merely
nodded.
They definitely had need of discussion. But not here.
He tipped his head, then together, they twisted, opened a separate
interdimensional doorway for each, and slipped through, returning home.

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 Chapter Two

B ITTERS AREN ’ T QUITTERS .

That was her dad’s voice in her head. Again. He talked to Molly a lot
these days—her dad, Nathaniel Bitter, who died in a freak car accident four
years ago, halfway through her Sophomore year at college. Molly was only
sixteen when he said those words, though, telling her how her boyfriend’s
suicide wasn’t her fault. And it wasn’t. Just like the accident that sent her dad
and mom over the edge of a Seattle bridge was no one’s fault. Just like she
wasn’t to blame for getting laid off from her high-paying accounting job at
Birkley & Burnham LLC, one of Seattle’s most prestigious law firms. It’s
nothing you’ve done, Moll, said Tucker, her 40-something boss. We’re just
laying you off from the only thing you’ve managed to make work in your life.
Probably because she was less than two years out of college.
Or her luck was simply that bad.
Bad luck was definitely how she ended up here… in hell. Apparently, hell
was a massive room full of babies and kids and pregnant ladies. She was lying
on a thin-mattressed bed and staring at a ceiling made of black crystal. Oh,
and the kids had black wings, just like their daddies, because hell was made
of crazy.
Would she even survive this latest round of Lady Bad Luck messing with
her life?
Odds didn’t seem great, to be honest.
“I think he’ll come today, Moll.” That was Renata. She was kind and
pretty and funny—and stupidly in love with one of the black-winged hotties
holding them prisoner.
“Mm-hm.” She didn’t want to give Ren any false hopes. Not that she
knew, one way or another. And time was like a slow fog in this place. It
dulled you out. Made minutes crawl and days seem irrelevant. There was no
night, no day, no clocks, no sun. Just the constant glow of the walls, a darkish
light that made everything gray.
“I mean it.” Ren rolled on her side, scooting a little so she didn’t lean on
her baby bump. “It’s been five days and ten hours. He’s never been gone
longer than five days. It has to be today.”
Molly was sure it was just Ren’s wishful thinking, but she leaned up on
her elbow anyway. “Hang on… how are you counting the hours?” They got
three meals a day, so she used that to track—although it got hard with nothing
to write with. She’d tried to scratch it out on the black crystal floor, but the
stuff was hard as diamond.
Ren grinned, her deep brown eyes shining with mischievousness. She
swiped her long brown hair back and glanced around as if anyone could hear
them over the constant shuffling of the babies and chatter of the kids in the
cavernous nursery. There were two dozen children, from toddlers to pre-teens,
not counting the two babies, Ralphie and Eva. None seemed like they’d hit
puberty yet, although a few were on the cusp. The kids kept themselves
separate—they seemed vaguely suspicious of her and Ren and Eden, the only
other adult left with them. She was quietly rocking little Ralphie while Eva
slept in a tiny crib at her feet. Right now, the kids were at the far end of the
massive room, immersed in a game of chance that involved sticks and tiny
stones. They kept to themselves, and anyway, were too far away to overhear.
A guard always stood outside the single door through which everything came
—food, fresh clothes, and occasionally, their keepers—but right now, it was
closed.
Ren leaned forward and dropped her voice anyway. “I keep track using
my phone.”
“What?” Molly sat straight up. “We’ve been here for months, and you’re
just now telling me you have a phone?” Not that she was angry as much as
flat-out shocked. They had vowed no secrets between the three—her, Eden,
and Ren. They had to work together and trust each other. Otherwise, there
was no hope of escape.
“I just got it!” But Ren sat up, too, mirroring Molly and bunching up the
thin gray blanket with her delicate fingers. “Well… five days ago.”
“A gift from Micah?” Molly guessed.
“Yeah.” Guilt hung on her face, which was super pretty unless it was
scrunched up like this.
“It’s okay, Ren,” she said with a sigh. “He cares about you. So he gives
you presents. It’s, you know, how it’s supposed to be.” But the knife still
twisted a little in her chest.
Ren slipped the phone out to check it, then put it back in the pocket of her
loose knit pants. They all had the same shapeless gray t-shirts and stretchy
pants, good for growing bellies, she supposed. Ren flopped back on her cot
and stared at the ceiling again.
Molly didn’t even know what to say.
Ren was obviously in love with the… creature… who had abducted her.
Molly knew they weren’t men, not really—not with the black wings and the
supernatural stamina and the insane nursery of their misbegotten children.
The kids all had tiny, obsidian wings as well. And strength… when the kids
fought, Molly was shocked they even survived. Even the littlest ones knew
how to bite and pulse some strange energy or slash with improvised weapons
—or simply fly out of reach, up into the dark crystal recesses above them.
They were kids—but they were also beautiful monsters.
Just like the grown-up ones who had seduced the three of them straight
into hell.
It was obvious why both Eden and Ren had been chosen for this fate.
Eden was far and away the prettiest among them. She was like Aphrodite
walking out of her shell, voluptuous and gorgeous—blindingly beautiful. Ren
wasn’t far behind, plus she was whip-smart, which was probably why this
Micah guy was still coming for her. Molly, on the other hand… her red hair
was more wild kink than glamorous red-head, and she was extra plump in lots
of different spots. At first, she thought she’d just gotten lucky when an
unbelievably hot man approached her at the Starbucks, flirting with her and
making eyes at her boobs like he was ready to feast. And feast he did. She
couldn’t regret that twenty-four hours he spent at her apartment. The sex was
glorious. The best she’d ever had, again and again and again. She thought
maybe it was luck to find a guy with superhuman stamina… and it was.
Just not the good kind.
Wasn’t that how every kidnapping movie started? Some stupid girl
without many friends (hers were all back at the law firm) and no family
(because Lady Bad Luck) and no job (ditto), gets lured by a gorgeous guy into
a deserted cabin in the woods? Molly had always tried to see the good in
people—Your opinions are more a reflection of you than the other guy; her
dad’s voice again—but her sexy dream date wasn’t a good guy after all. Or
human. He knocked her out with some drug and brought her here. She hadn’t
seen him since.
The exact location of here was still a mystery, but hell seemed as good a
guess as any. It was at least possible. She could have died while Hot Winged
Guy impregnated her with five thousand rounds of sex, and now she would
spend all eternity in a maternity ward. Pregnant. Because it wasn’t long until
she was throwing up and craving Ben & Jerry’s Chunky Monkey and had a
little baby bump of her own. That was the only way she knew months had
passed in this timeless NeverWorld—the fact that her baby kept growing. She
knew what a pregnant lady looked like, and her baby bump was well past that
first trimester. Four maybe five months, if she had to guess. Eden and Ren had
their baby bumps, too—they had all arrived at the same time. Back then, there
were two other pregnant ladies—Sarah and Elizabeth—already here, taking
care of little Betsy, a toddler who was no more than three, between them.
Soon after Molly arrived, Betsy joined the cult of the Big Kids—some
initiation ceremony involving knives and blood—and then Sarah and
Elizabeth went into labor simultaneously. The guards came and escorted them
out of the nursery.
The babies came back.
Little Ralphie. Then Eva.
Their mothers never returned.
So… either Molly was stuck in the purgatory maternity ward of the
damned. Or it was actually much worse than that. You know things are bad
when hell is the good option.
At least there had been amazing sex first.
 For Ren, that was still happening, and Eden disappeared every once in a
while, too. She never talked about it, though. Thankfully, the man who’d
seduced Molly didn’t show his face—she’d probably punch it. And given he
could squash her like a fly, that probably wasn’t smart. Sarah and Elizabeth
talked little and never came straight out and said it, but they had a haunted
look to them. One that said they were carrying their rapist’s child.
Molly sucked in a breath and blew it out slow. Things could always be
worse—she needed to remember that. Speaking of which, she peered at Ren
with her misery over missing her black-winged lover. She was still staring at
the ceiling, but now small tracks of tears slid down the side of her head.
Molly reached over to poke Ren in the shoulder. “Hey, now that we have a
phone, can I call my old boss and tell him I’ve found a much better gig?” She
smiled—she couldn’t imagine there was any reception in hell, but she had to
ask…
“No, but I can order you a pizza.” Ren kept staring balefully at the ceiling.
Molly jolted. “You can?”
“No.” Ren sighed and rolled her eyes in Molly’s direction.
Her shoulders fell. “Okay, that was cruel. I’m seriously tired of ham and
cheese.” Their food tasted like it was all trucked into hell from a day-old
bakery and a sub shop with only three ingredients.
“It’ll be better once the babies come.” Ren said this like it was a gospel
she not only believed in but clung to with desperate hope.
Molly grimaced. “Ren.” They’d discussed this. There was no way for
them to know Sarah and Elizabeth were dead… it was just… who separated
babies from their mothers? What mother would let it happen? Despite the tiny
being growing inside her, Molly felt nothing like a mom—but keeping moms
and babies together was just Mom 101 stuff.
“Micah promised,” Ren said, still staring at the ceiling only now it was
with determination. “We just have to hold tight until the babies come. Then
he’s getting us out of here.” She finally twisted to look at Molly. “He loves
me, Moll.”
“Yeah. I know.” She struggled to keep her grimace on the inside. Because
how cruel would it be to tell Ren she was probably being used? Very cruel.
And she just couldn’t pile on like that. “Just do me a favor, okay?”
 Ren’s face opened a little, and she sat up again. “Anything. You know
that.”
“Just ask him again. You know, if we can leave sooner. Maybe he’s
changed his mind.”
Ren pursed her lips but nodded. “Okay. I’ll ask.” She took out her phone
again and checked it—then laid back down and held the phone to her chest.
Molly tried not to sigh too loudly. But all this made her antsy—she
needed to move. The hours were endless, and she’d made finding ways to
entertain herself into a full-time occupation. There was nothing to read, so she
told stories. There were no belongings, so she fashioned art out of the
silverware and cups and plates that came with their food. Mostly, she talked to
Ren and Eden, and since Ren was in a mood, Molly wandered over to where
Eden sat slowly rocking side to side while she held Ralphie. They were far
enough apart that Ren might not overhear everything they said. Maybe.
“Baby’s out?” Molly asked, even though it was obvious. He was even
more perfectly cherubic in sleep, although all the kids were unnaturally
beautiful… just like the creatures who were their fathers.
“Like a dream.” Eden smiled, and it was like the sun breaking over
mountains. She was just that pretty, and the babies, when they were awake,
stared in awe at her.
“Want me to take a turn?” Molly held out her hands for Ralphie—she
wasn’t the mom type, which made being pregnant particularly strange, but it
was something to do.
“I’ve just got him settled.” Eden spent all her time with the babies.
Molly just shrugged and looked around for something else to do. There
was a scuffle at the far end with the kids, but she’d learned not to poke her
nose into that—she didn’t need to see them beating each other up, and
besides, there was nothing she could do. They were all stronger than her, even
little Betsy with her tiny black wings.
“Okay, I’ll just—” She cut off when the door opened. They’d gotten food
not long ago—
Micah came striding into the room. He was tall and gorgeous, just like the
guy who had seduced Molly, but he looked a little beaten up—he was wearing
all black leather, from his gauntlets to his boots, but it looked scuffed, and his
short brown hair was more wild than normal. His brown eyes blazed as he
crossed the nursery, heading their way, but it was obvious he only had eyes
for Ren.
Molly twisted to tell her, but Ren had already seen—she was scrambling
up from the bed, stuffing the phone into her pocket as she practically ran
across the room to meet her lover. She flew into his arms, and Micah didn’t
even say a word—he just devoured her with a kiss.
Okay. Molly guessed they wouldn’t be talking any time soon.
“Well, at least she has that,” Eden said wistfully. The longing on her face
made Molly grimace. Ren was in love with her kidnapper, but when Eden was
summoned—a guard would come for her and escort her out—she didn’t
exactly run across the room. She was usually gone for a day, and when she
came back, she was even more quiet than normal. She wasn’t hurt per se—no
bruises or any of that—but she didn’t talk about it. In fact, she didn’t talk for
at least twenty-four hours after, only slowly coming back to them.
Molly counted herself lucky the father of her child left her alone.
Eden sighed and scooted down on the bed. “I’ll just tuck him up while I
nap.” She gracefully laid down on her side and smoothly transferred the baby
to the bed next to her. Then she closed her eyes and snuggled the baby in
tight.
Ren let out a small shriek, but it wasn’t an unhappy one. Micah had lifted
her up, wrapped her legs around his waist, and was walking her toward the
one spot of privacy in the whole nursery—two small tents along one wall.
One was a shower/toilet, and the other was ostensibly a medical tent—it held
a few supplies like bandages and an ancient bottle of aspirin—but that was
where Ren and Micah went when they wanted to be alone. Micah threw aside
the medical tent flap and walked them inside. The flap fell back to obscure
them, but in no time, the cloth walls of the tent were shaking, and Molly
could hear Ren’s cries, begging for more.
Eden was already out, snoring softly with the baby.
Molly sighed, ran her hand over her baby bump, and decided the best
place to be was as far from the sounds of the tent as possible. She tiptoed
away from Eden and the babies, working her way toward the kids’ end of the
nursery. Whatever fight had been going on was broken up, so it was probably
safe. Maybe. As she got closer, Ren’s frantic lovemaking noises dimmed a
little. In the orderly rows of cots where the kids slept, Molly noticed one girl
sitting by herself, away from the main group, which was back to playing their
game of chance. The girl was curled up, arms locked around her knees, but
her wings were out, slowly pulsing the air.
Molly approached her cautiously. She didn’t talk to the kids—none of the
adults did—and she didn’t want to disturb this one, but if Molly wanted to
hang out nearby, it was probably better to introduce herself. Just so the girl
didn’t attack. She was one of the older ones, maybe close to thirteen.
“Hey,” Molly said while she was still a good twenty feet away.
The girl whipped her head in Molly’s direction, and a split second later,
she was standing and pointing some kind of weapon at her—looked like a
prickly knife fashioned from several forks.
Molly’s hands automatically went up. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
The girl scoffed then relaxed. “You’re a human. You can’t hurt me.”
“Right.” Molly shrugged and slowly lowered her hands. “Like I was
saying.”
The girl wiped at something on her face—she was cut. Or at least it
seemed so. Blood came away on her hand.
“You okay?” Molly asked.
“I’ll be fine.” The girl said it almost angrily. But then she stared at the
blood on her hand, and her face went soft. She was just a kid, no matter how
fierce the black wings.
“I can take a look if you’d like.” Molly bit her lip. This was probably the
most interaction she’d had with any of the kids in her whole time here.
The girl dashed a look between her, the huddle of kids further away, and
the cot she’d been sitting on. She seemed uncertain whether to run or sit.
Molly edged forward. “I can’t hurt you, right? I’m just a human.”
That seemed to settle it. The girl sat. Molly eased up to the cot then slowly
sat down.
She peered at the girl’s face in the low light—she had a long gash from
her brow, across her temple, and down her cheek. “You’re cut. Head wounds
tend to bleed more, but they’re not serious.” And that was the extent of her
first-aid knowledge. “Let me see if I can clean it up.”
 The girl frowned but didn’t stop Molly when she fished a packet of baby
wipes out of her pocket—she’d got in the habit of carrying them when the
babies came back. The girl watched intently as Molly drew a single wipe out
of the packet then dabbed it at the girl’s face.
“What’s your name?” Molly asked. Maybe the girl would relax her super-
rigid pose if they talked a bit.
“Ariel.” The girl stared at the blood-drenched wipe Molly dropped on the
cot.
She fished out another. It was hard to tell in the low light, but now that she
was cleaning some of the blood away, she could see several cuts across the
girl’s face. “So, Ariel… like The Little Mermaid?”
Ariel just stared at her.
“Oh, right. You wouldn’t know about that.” Molly shut her mouth and
kept cleaning.
“What’s your name?” the girl asked suddenly like she was afraid Molly
wouldn’t keep talking.
Molly held in her smile. “Molly Bitter. But you can call me Moll.”
The girl nodded while Molly went for another wipe.
“So, Ariel…” Molly kept her eyes on the cleanup job. She was almost
done. “How’d you get these?” The cuts were healing themselves before her
eyes. It was amazing.
“Some of the boys wanted to have sex.”
Moll froze. Then she slowly pulled back and looked Ariel in her blue
eyes. “But you’re… you’re just…” She had no idea how old Ariel was, but it
wasn’t anywhere near old enough for sex.
Ariel lifted her chin. “I told them I’d cut them if they tried.”
Molly shut her gaping mouth. “Did they?”
“They tried.” There was triumph in Ariel’s eyes. Thank God.
Relief trickled through her. “Well, maybe I should see how bad their cuts
are.”
The girl smiled.
Molly gave a final wipe across Ariel’s forehead. “You’re all cleaned up
now.” She figured she didn’t have to tell Ariel she was healed—the girl knew
how all this worked better than Molly. She glanced at the improvised fork-
knife the girl had set on the cot. “I can get you more forks if you need them.”
The girl nodded, but it was wary again. “I can bend it for you. If you want
one of your own.”
A weapon. Molly might need it if she ever found a way out of this place.
“I can tell you the story of The Little Mermaid if you’d like.”
The girl’s eyes lit up.
They were engaged in a negotiation. Or possibly a friendship. One she
should have tried to start long ago.
Because how do you break out of hell?
You make friends with the demons.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Three

T HE ORGY WAS IN FULL SWING IN R AZAEL ’ S R EGIMENT .

Asa winced as he arrived on the black crystal balcony—traveling was
second-nature for angelings, but it still wrenched the physical body. And his
was yet complaining of freshly-healed wounds.
“Are you okay?” Laylah’s hands were on him, bolstering him, in an
instant.
“I’m fine.” But she didn’t let go, and he didn’t insist.
They stood outside the central palace which housed Razael and his
angelings. The balcony was crowded with those engaged in sex acts. Above
and below, in the cavernous black-crystal silo that comprised the Regiment—
all of it made of magic—angelings were having sex mid-air, hanging from the
walls, and dangling from all manner of ropes and restraints that looked
borrowed from a light-angel’s Penance room. Before Asa Fell, he’d spent
plenty of time paying for the slightest infraction, prayerfully hoping to avoid
the Temptations that might lead him straight here. On the other hand,
shadowkind played with pleasure and pain as if they were intertwined.
Pain…that Asa understood. It was the pleasure which made him flinch.
The sounds of it—moans and growls and cries of ecstasy—crowded in on
him.
Laylah was guiding him through the crowd, past thrusting male members
and bouncing female bodies. Normally, he withdrew to his cell when the
orgies commenced. And, for the love of magic, why was the Regiment having
an orgy when they were fighting battles yet on the streets, and Elyon’s forces
were no doubt rallying for retaliation?
Laylah tugged him through the doorway to the palace, and impossibly, the
noise was even more deafening inside. One female came as they passed,
shaking and screaming as the two males working her body groaned their
pleasures. Her cries aroused Asa from the waist down, his cock responding to
the sights and sounds and smells—which was both horrifying and dizzying, as
the little blood he had left in his body pooled where he needed it least. They
passed another female paired with two males, this one being fucked from
behind while she took the other’s cock in her mouth—they just pounded on as
Laylah drew him away from the main room. Out in the passageways, the
scent of sex was less, as was the sound. They passed only three couplings as
they wound through the hallways—two males aggressively fucking against
the wall, a male with two females, one riding his face and the other his cock,
and a male pounding a female face-down on the smooth black glass of the
floor.
Asa’s own cock pulsed as they passed each one, making his light-
headedness even worse. He shut his eyes and focused on getting blood back
to the head he used for thinking, letting Laylah lead him blindly down the
twists and turns of the palace. When the sounds of sex dimmed, and she
pulled him to a stop, he expected she had brought him to the throne room
where he could deliver his report to their dark lord, but when he opened his
eyes…
They were in her cell.
“Laylah,” he rasped out, backing away, but the door was already closed
behind him. “This is not the time for—”
“You never think it’s time for that.” Her voice was cool, but she was
unabashedly eyeing the bulge in his pants. The rough leather constrained him,
but it was verging on painful. “Although part of you definitely thinks it’s
time.”
“I can’t help that.” He was gripping the door for support, just to stay
upright.
Laylah frowned. “You’ve lost too much blood.” She came toward him, so
he threw up a hand to ward her off. She gave him a withering look. “I’m not
trying to fuck you, Asa. I’m trying to help.”
 Simply holding up his hand was taxing his energy, so he dropped it and
nodded, wearily. She slipped an arm underneath his, wrapping it around his
back and helping him to the small platform for repose along the wall. It
couldn’t rightly be called a bed—angelings had little need for sleep and spent
half of that hanging from a perch—but it was probably where she’d had sex a
hundred times with other angelings.
He groaned as he laid down on it. His cock strained against his pants still.
She scowled. “You know, I could help you out with that.”
He pressed a hand to his forehead and closed his eyes. “If you were to try,
I think it might kill me.”
She laughed, a quick chirp. “I doubt that.” Then he sensed her coming
closer. He forced his eyes open—in Truth, if she assaulted him now, he wasn’t
sure he could, or would, put up a fight. But instead, she just knelt by his side,
concern etched on her face. “I should give you another life kiss.”
“You’ve already given too much.” But he smiled through the discomfort.
It was easing a little.
She scowled again. “Which matters little if it’s not enough.” She looked
over his battle armor. “Let me see. Make sure you’re healing properly.”
“You simply want to remove my clothes.” He would have laughed, but he
was still too light-headed to risk it.
“Yessss.” She drew the word out, exaggerated. “But I don’t want pity sex
from you, Asa.”
“No?” He huffed a small laugh even though it made him dizzy, but his
head was clearing just with lying down. It must be bringing the blood back.
He fumbled at the buckles that held his leather jacket strapped firmly to his
body, but his hands were useless, so he quickly gave up.
She deftly undid the buckles for him. “Well, okay, maybe I do want pity
sex.” She smirked. “But not when you’re half dead. If I get a chance to have
you in my bed for real, I want the full ride. All your stamina. We won’t come
out until you’ve passed out from exhaustion. At least once.”
He grinned as she worked the wrappings free from his chest and spread
them wide. “You’ve given this some thought.”
She peered at his chest, checking his still-healing wounds. “Oh, you don’t
even want to know. The others are starting to complain.”
 “Complain?” He didn’t know what she meant.
She spread her hands across his chest and tipped her head back, closing
her eyes and feigning ecstasy. “Oh, Asa! Asa! Harder, Asa! I’m going to
come, Asa!”
A restrained laugh was sending convulsions through him. “You don’t.”
She snapped her gaze to his. “Oh, hell yeah, I do.” She withdrew her
hands. “You wounds are healed, you big complainer. A life kiss won’t help
with the blood loss, but I’m down for trying if you want.”
“No.” His smile tamed. “You saved my life, Laylah.”
She shrugged one shoulder but dipped her head to look away.
He reached a hand to her cheek to bring her back. “My thanks before
was… inadequate.”
Her eyes went a little wide.
He lifted up a little, just onto his elbow, but it was enough to bring him to
her level. Then he pulled her closer. He had every intent of kissing her,
finally. Pity sex or no, he shouldn’t let her languish, forever wondering if
there might be something between them. He should show her—and himself—
one way or the other. But when he brought her in for the kiss, something
lurched inside him—something deep and dark and broken.
He pressed his lips to her cheek instead and whispered, “I’m sorry.”
The pain in her eyes when he drew back was hard to see—but not as sharp
as the clawing beast inside him. The Wrath. It had broken him during his Fall,
and every time he came close to any soft feeling—any love, any tenderness,
even the stimulation of the orgies—it all came crashing back. The soaring,
blinding anger. Ellie ravished by a shadow angeling—an angeling from
Elyon’s Regiment. The baby that came from that violence growing in her
womb. Asa had vowed to love them both, but he couldn’t touch her after that.
She was too…broken…by it. And then one day, he found her swimming in a
bath of her own blood. She’d taken her life, but Asa knew who was truly
responsible. Elyon. And everything inside Asa lived to see that angel die.
Laylah rose up. She was looking off to the side, composing her face.
“I cannot be your lover,” he said softly, peering up at her. “And I’m an
even worse friend.”
“Yeah, you suck.” She was blinking away tears.
 Damn him and his broken, worthless self. He pulled in a breath and forced
himself to rise from her bed. She made to turn away, but he grasped her by the
shoulders. “Laylah.” It was asking for forgiveness he didn’t deserve, so he
quickly followed it with, “I’m a worthless, broken soul. But you… if you
shine with any more Virtues, you’ll lose those shadow wings.” Which was
nonsense—once in shadow, always in shadow—but if it were possible,
Laylah would be the one to do it. “Go find someone worthy of you. Enjoy
them. I’ll be gone before you return.”
She wrenched out of his grasp and stalked from the room.
He sighed. But he was restored enough to venture to Razael’s throne room
on his own now. If Laylah hated him—and she had every right—maybe it
would help her move on to someone else. No more fantasies about him being
something he never could. Not that love pairings happened much in the
shadow realm. Love rarely survived the constant assault of Sin. But she was
the kind who could make it happen. At least, he hoped so. She deserved it.
He took his time along the hallways, holding the wall and making sure the
faintness didn’t return and claim him. He passed only two couples on the way
to the throne room, but the guilt and turmoil over Laylah kept his cock from
responding, giving him half a chance of staying upright to give his report to
Razael.
When Asa swung into the throne room, he found it empty except for the
dark angel sitting on his massive black-crystal chair, alone, tapping an angel
blade against his knee, deep in thought. That Razael wasn’t indulging in the
orgy didn’t surprise him—he’d never seen the angel do so—but the look of
concern on his face did.
“Ah, Asa. Tajael sent word that you’d lost your blade.” Razael rose from
his seat.
Asa strode forward, although the weakness of his legs must have betrayed
him, for Razael frowned as he turned over the freshly-made blade. It hummed
with power.
“A strong blessing for my strongest warrior.” Razael peered at him.
“Come—let me bless you as well.”
“That would be much appreciated, my lord.” Asa held his head high as he
approached.
 Razael placed the flat of his palm on Asa’s forehead, and the flush of
power and energy that vibrated through him… Asa had only felt it once
before when he joined Razael’s Regiment. He was even closer to death then,
having foolishly taken on Elyon’s entire Regiment in his blind rage and need
for vengeance for Ellie’s death. Razael snatched him from oblivion then—
now, the power of the angel’s dark blessing enlivened every cell in Asa’s
body with new life.
When Razael released him, he felt he could more easily stand.
“Tajael says we almost lost you.” Razael’s voice had grown in volume,
not quite angelsong, but he was definitely displeased by this.
Asa grimaced and stepped back to sheath his new blade. “Tajael is not
wrong. The fae nearly had me. They’re working in concert with Elyon’s
angelings now, using glamour to pose as humans. It was an ambush. You
should alert all our forces in Seattle.”
Razael tipped his head. “Tajael said as much. It is already done. But it will
be difficult if they are mixing with the human population.”
Asa ran his hand through his hair. They’d discussed this before, but it was
time to resurrect his objections. “Which is why we need to not fight this in the
streets. We should take the battle to Elyon. In his Regiment. Now… before he
has time to rebuild his forces with reinforcements.” Oriel had secreted out
knowledge of Elyon’s plans from his time held captive by the dark angel.
They knew Elyon was seeking more shadow angelings, volunteers from the
other dark angels, even though his was already the largest Regiment in the
realm. His son, Micah, was gathering the recruits—and was a possible
weakness in Elyon’s armor.
“We don’t have the forces, Asa,” Razael said with a sigh, then took a seat
on his throne. “You know this.”
“I know that Elyon grows stronger as we speak.” But he found his hand
rubbing his head again—Razael’s blessing buoyed him, but the dizziness was
still there.
Razael frowned. “You are in need of rest.”
“I am fine.” He wasn’t, but that was irrelevant to their plans.
Razael’s expression turned hard. “We may be shadow, but I expect Truth
from all my angelings.”
 His rebuke hit harder with the angel’s blessing still freshly coursing his
body. “In Truth, I am weakened but determined that Elyon not claim any
more of our own. And that he be denied his ambitions.”
Razael nodded, and he had to know the Truth of that. “The pulse sent out
through magical space by the success of the human’s machine must have
enraged the Winter Court even more. The humans have traveled, Asa—sent
one of their own. I fear we’re on an inexorable path toward war.”
War between light and dark—the full-scale deployment of both sides was
assured to awaken the Warrior Angels. And they would smite every last being
in shadow until it was done. The End of Times had been long foretold, and
both sides—both light angels and dark—had an interest in keeping it from
happening.
“Elyon is insane,” Asa agreed. “Trust me, I understand his Sin of Wrath
and the damage it wreaks all too well. He will not stop until we stop him.”
“Yes, but how? With the Winter Court involved? It only escalates from
here.”
“What about the humans?” Asa dared to step closer to the throne where
Razael perched. “They are the wild card in this. The ones driving this conflict
with their infernal machine. Why not use that?”
“In what way?” But Razael’s interest was roused.
“Send something straight into the heart of Elyon’s Regiment. A bomb. A
weapon. Something non-magical to get past their defenses. Destroy them…
Utterly. Before they can destroy us all.”
Razael winced. “Many angelings serve him. Most are not Fallen but born
into his Regiment.”
“They know who they serve.” It was a terrible price—Asa had to agree—
but it was either that or slaying them on the streets of Seattle. And there, the
forces arrayed against Elyon were truly no match for him and his greater
numbers.
“Let me summon Tajael.” Razael closed his eyes, and Asa stepped back to
a respectable distance. Within a moment, the light angeling and his blazing
white wings appeared in Razael’s courtroom.
Concern was written across his face. “I only have a moment. We’re in the
middle of—” He caught sight of Asa. “Ah. You are well, I see.”
 “I’ll survive.”
Tajael turned back to Razael. “Tell me there are no further troubles than
those I already know.”
“Asa believes we should move against Elyon using the humans’ weapon,”
Razael said.
“Weapon?” Tajael’s face was comically puzzled. “The humans are doing
science. Exploration. They have no weapon.”
Asa rolled his eyes. Light angelings—they could be so naïve. Tajael had
more experience than most, including a tour through Elyon’s Regiment when
he was on walkabout, but he was no different than the rest.
“The machine is a weapon,” Asa replied, tersely. “Obviously. And we
should use it against Elyon to end this.”
Tajael threw him a narrow-eyed look. “You mean transport something into
his Regiment.”
Asa tried not to be too insulting with his expression.
Tajael scowled. “The humans will never agree to that.” He turned back to
Razael. “You may not believe their innocent intent, but they certainly do.”
“Then find different humans,” Razael said, coolly. “Or do it yourself.”
Tajael stepped back. “I cannot and will not.”
Asa strode forward, hand on his blade. “Save your precious moralizing for
the human you are fucking,” he spat. “Elyon will end us all, light and dark,
human and angeling alike—is that what you want?” Those in the light could
be so blinded by Sin, in ways they couldn’t even conceive—at least Asa knew
his Sin of Wrath drove him. It may have broken his soul, but he damn well
knew how to control it now. Angelings of the light lived in fear of Sin, but
they actually knew nothing of it.
Tajael glared at him. “If you turn on the humans, our partnership is done.
And fractured, we have no hope against Elyon’s forces. Is that what you
want?”
He wanted to slash Tajael with his newly-blessed shadow blade—
“Tajael is right,” Razael said.
Asa turned a look of disbelief to him. “My lord—”
Razael held up a hand. “Only in that the humans will not agree to this.”
He used the raised hand to gesture to Tajael. “Their scientists are in love with
light angels, Asa. What do you expect?”
Asa groaned his frustration and stepped back from his too-close
confrontation with Tajael.
“What about Micah?” Tajael said, bringing back some of the coolness to
his voice. “I thought you were trying to turn him.”
“How exactly are we supposed to do that? Pop in and ask for an
appointment with Elyon’s son?” Asa’s question was rhetorical, but Tajael
stroked his chin as if seriously contemplating that suggestion.
Asa just shook his head and faced Razael. “The Winter Court is allied
with him. If they’re pressing their fae warriors into service, that could swell
Elyon’s numbers—”
“Wait,” Tajael said, raising his hand and cutting him off.
Asa glared at him but waited.
Tajael shook a finger at Asa, but he spoke to Razael. “The Winter Court is
taking action. Which means the Summer Court must be alarmed. If not, they
should be. Perhaps we can persuade them to enter the fray. Balance the forces,
at least for a moment. Until we find a way to infiltrate Elyon’s stronghold,
turn his son, and lure Elyon into some kind of trap that could actually destroy
him. Or at least destroy his will to prosecute this unholy war.”
Asa’s eyebrows lifted. The light boy almost sounded shadow. “You have
some sway with the Summer Court?”
Tajael smiled. “As it turns out… yes.”
Razael was nodding. “Go. See what you can arrange. And report back.”
Tajael gave a sharp nod then twisted and was gone.
“In what manner is a light angeling acquainted with the Summer Court?”
Asa couldn’t tell if his light-headedness was returning or the world was
simply not making sense.
“Rumor is he’s been in the Summer Queen’s bed.” Razael chuckled.
Asa pulled a face. “That’s disgusting.” Angel and fae might ally out of
necessity—or evil intent and common interest, in the case of the Winter Court
and Elyon—but the blood feud between their species went back many
millennium. And they certainly didn’t fuck each other.
Razael snorted an even louder laugh. “Well, I wouldn’t sign up to bang a
fae, either, but who am I to lecture the lightkind on their personal habits?”
 It was still disgusting. Asa snarled then spat out the bitter taste in his
mouth.
“But you, my friend, need rest.” Razael rose from his throne. “By the time
Tajael returns, I need you in top form.”
That he couldn’t disagree with. “Summon me as soon as you have word.”
Then he gave a short bow and strode from the room. Razael’s blessing still
enlivened his body and transported him through the orgy-filled halls to the
blessed seclusion of his cell, but he was truly in desperate need of rest—he
needed to fully recover from his brush with death. With tremendous and
sudden fatigue, he slumped onto his thin mat and let sleep take him.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Four

T WO FORKS , A DULL - EDGED KNIFE , AND THREE SPOONS .

It was all Molly could pinch from the last day’s worth of meals without
making the guy who brought their food suspicious. Although she might have
gotten away with more—the black-winged hotties who brought them stuff
rotated a lot and paid little attention. Some were super bored and vaguely
resentful, although Molly couldn’t figure why—she was the one being held
prisoner. Some looked at her like she was the ham and cheese sandwich. Most
just shoved the trays over the threshold and collected them later, barely
staying long enough for Molly to notice.
The kids never ate.
Well, never was an exaggeration. The babies had a bottle once a day—that
came with lunch. A crate of something was floated in once a week for the
kids. They fought over it, but not like they were starving—more like the paper
bags were prizes that had to be won by being the fastest or most brutal. Molly
worried that Betsy, the little three-year-old she’d watched a few times, would
get aced out, but she always flew off with a bag of her own first. Maybe one
of the older ones let her have it.
Maybe it was Ariel.
Molly drifted with her utensil booty away from the area clearly defined as
“Mom and Baby Land” by some unspoken agreement that divided the
cavernous nursery into halves—not equal halves, mind you, as the kids took
up most of the space. Molly was casually walking, super slow and lazy-like as
if she just happened to be wandering into the territory where the kids’ cots
were laid out in neat rows. It was a good barrier, seeing how the kids rarely
slept, just like they rarely ate. Right now, they were engaged in another of the
endless games they liked to play, which made it a good time to meet up with
Ariel without too many noticing—if Molly could catch her eye.
The kids were grouping up in pairs and threes and fours, and they seemed
to be sparring. They made full use of the space, soaring up on their little black
wings to the murky top of the cavern then swooping back down to dive bomb
some kid from behind. Some had blades, but most just fought with their fists
and feet. It wasn’t an all-out melee—Molly had seen those, when the fragile
hierarchy of the group, whatever it was, seemed to break down altogether, and
the whole thing turned into a kid-sized riot. This sparring thing was different
—almost like a dance, although a pretty violent one. Lots had bloody faces,
and a couple were sitting out, holding their arms or ankles, faces scrunched in
pain.
Crazy.
The ones in motion moved so fast it was hard to track. Molly took a seat
on the farthest-out cot and watched until she spotted Ariel. She was fierce and
fast and took down one challenger after another. Molly held up the spoons by
her face and waited patiently—eventually, Ariel spotted her. She knocked the
boy coming after her straight down to the floor then glided away toward
Molly. Another boy seemed inclined to chase after her, but then he circled
back to the fray. Ariel floated on unseen air currents—or maybe magic? Do
demons have magic? It didn’t seem right to think of them as “demons”—they
were just kids—even though Molly didn’t know what else they could be.
Whatever force Ariel was using, it landed her lightly on bare feet next to the
cot.
“Hey,” Molly said like this was something they did all the time, rather
than just the second time they’d spoken. The first was pretty short, too—just a
retelling of The Little Mermaid, and then Ariel had gotten skittish and took
off. But if this would work, Molly needed the girl to think they were cool, just
friends, hanging out. As far as she could tell, that was a foreign concept.
“You brought spoons?” Ariel asked.
Direct and simple. Okay, then. Molly held out all six utensils. “You said
you could make me a weapon.”
 The girl smirked but took the flatware and climbed onto the cot. “Who’re
you going to fight?” She seemed to think this was very funny.
“Self-defense only.” Molly bit her lip, not sure what was smart to say,
what she should leave out.
Ariel gave her a look like she was crazy. “You know this is useless against
an angeling, right?” But she started arranging the spoons and forks around the
knife.
“Angeling?” So that’s what they were? Molly’s eyes went wide.
Because… what? Since when did angels have black wings?
Ariel squinted at her. “You don’t know much, do you?”
No! But Molly kept it cool—because information was something she
needed a lot more than a knife. “You know, I really don’t. I’m just a human,
remember?”
Ariel nodded like this made sense to her. Then she focused on her
handiwork with the utensils, bending the metal forks and spoons around the
central spear of the knife. The girl was unnaturally strong—Molly had seen
the kids toss around stuff that was way too heavy for that, but it was still
surprising to see up close. It was almost lovely, artistic, how Ariel twisted and
wound the pieces together into a thing with a handle and a blade.
“This isn’t very sharp,” she said, holding it up in the dim light.
“That’s okay.”
Ariel scowled. “You need a sharp knife.” She swept aside the short skirt
of her black toga, revealing a knife strapped to her thigh. Then she snatched it
out of its sheath and stabbed it into the cot next to Molly’s hand.
She yanked back, but Ariel didn’t seem to notice. She just set about
sliding Molly’s newly fashioned knife down the sharp edge of the blade. Tiny
shavings fell as she worked the surface, focused as if both their lives
depended on getting it just right.
While she sawed away at the blade, Ariel asked quietly, “You don’t want
to be here?”
Molly’s heart leaped. “No.”
Ariel didn’t look at her, still intent on the blade. “You came from
outside?”
“Yes.” A heartbeat. Then two. “Have you ever been outside?”
 The girl’s hand slipped a little. “No.” She changed her grip and kept
sawing.
Molly could have guessed the kids had never left the nursery—she’d been
here for months, Eden was the only one who left. And she always came back
worse for it. Molly couldn’t imagine growing up in this place. Never seeing
the sun or blue sky? Never running in a field or going out for ice cream? Not
to mention all the Lord of the Flies violence and brutality. It seemed a horrible
way to grow up.
Then again, the girl wasn’t human.
Angeling. Fallen angels, she supposed. Hence the black wings. The
grown-up angelings definitely ventured into the human world—that was how
the Hot Guy From Starbucks seduced her. (He said his name was Tom, but
she doubted that was true.) It wasn’t like you could raise an angeling kid in
the real world—the human world—but they had to learn about it eventually.
“Do you want to know about it?” Molly asked. “The outside, I mean?”
The girl lifted one shoulder to shrug then dipped her head to work the
blade harder.
Molly pressed her lips tight, not sure if it was smart to say anything more.
After a moment, Ariel asked softly, “Are there mermaids?”
“No.” Although, she didn’t think there were angels and demons before she
came here. “That’s just a story.”
Ariel nodded like somehow that’s what she expected. She finished the
blade, swiped away the shavings, and sheathed her own makeshift weapon.
Then she handed the gleaming-sharp new knife to Molly. “Who do you want
to kill?”
“What?” Molly frowned. “No one.”
Ariel looked skeptical and gestured to her belly. “What about the one who
did this?”
“I… um…” Molly swallowed, but this girl already knew more than she
did about such things. And Ariel knew more about this place as well. “He
didn’t force me. I chose to be with him. Although, to be honest, I didn’t know
all this was part of the deal.” She lifted her knife and waved it at the nursery
around them. “I had another life, Ariel. I mean, it wasn’t always a great one,
but it was mine.”
 Ariel’s blue eyes were locked on her now. “You would go back? If you
could.”
“Yes.” Molly flicked a look across the nursery to where Ren was flopped
on one of the cots, missing Micah already. “And my friends, too.”
“Would you take me?” Ariel’s eyes had gone wide, which made her look
suddenly young—much younger than the brutal maturity the nursery had
force her into.
Molly grimaced. How could she? She didn’t even know how to get herself
out. “I…”
Some of the light went out of Ariel’s eyes.
“I’d try,” Molly blurted out. What was she saying? “I mean, I don’t know
if you’d like it or not, but if you want to—”
“I want to.” Her expression was suddenly fierce. “I want to… to see it.
The ocean. Where the mermaids live.”
Molly tried not to cringe.
Then Ariel placed a hand on Molly’s arm and looked her solemnly in the
eyes. “We’ll make a vow.”
“A vow?” Molly’s voice squeaked.
“I will take you to the outside,” Ariel intoned. “You will show me this
ocean.”
Molly’s heart was doing acrobatics in her chest. “You know how to get
there?” Please, please, please…
Ariel pursed her lips then glanced at the sparring kids—angelings.
“Devon starts his Initiation tomorrow. Initiation lasts three days, then he
makes his vows. In that time, his new Master will teach him the secrets of
transport.”
“Master?” Molly asked, vaguely horrified. But this “transport” thing
sounded promising.
“The one who teaches you things.” Ariel looked at her like she was stupid.
Then she shrugged. “My own Initiation is not far away. I will ask Devon to
show me how to transport before he makes his vows and leaves us.” She
looked back to Molly and held her gaze. “I know what he wants. I will
bargain with him.”
Sex. She meant sex, and there was no way Molly could allow that to be
her ticket out. “No. No, Ariel… just, no.”
Ariel lifted her chin. “I’ll choose it.”
“You’re too young for…” God, no.
Ariel looked at her like she was crazy again. “I’ll be making my vows
soon, anyway.”
“I don’t… I don’t know what that means.” Molly swallowed. Good Lord
in Heaven… what happens in the vow-making thing? There was no one over
the age of thirteen in the nursery—this Initiation must be how they joined the
adult angelings, wherever they were, flying around somewhere. Outside the
nursery. Molly could only guess what that looked like—but it probably was
Lord of the Flies, the grown-up version. “Ariel, look—I… I want to escape.
Me and my friends both. I’ll take you with us, I promise. But I can’t have
you… you can’t do this for me, okay?”
Ariel just stared at her, puzzled. Slowly, she reached for Molly’s face,
touching just her fingertips to Molly’s cheek. “I can see…”
Molly pulled back. Was there something wrong with her face? “What?”
Ariel removed her hand and frowned. “There is a thing inside you that
shines. Like the babies.”
What? “Promise me you won’t…” She felt she had to make this crystal
clear. “You can’t have sex to get me free, okay?”
Ariel’s brow wrinkled up. “Because it would take away the shine. Like the
babies when they make their pledge.”
“Yes… yes, it would take away my shine, and that’s… that’s painful,
okay?” She was babbling now. She had no idea what this shine business was
all about. “You just need to find another way to do this. To… what did you
call it… transport?”
Ariel nodded, thoughtfully this time. “I will see what I can do.”
Molly sighed in relief. “Okay. Good. You let me know, all right?”
Ariel took out her blade again… then she held up her palm to Molly and
dragged the razor-sharp edge across it. Blood welled up in a crimson line.
“Ariel!” For the love of—
“What?” Ariel looked genuinely surprised. “We have to make our vow.”
Molly literally choked on her own spit.
“Give me your hand.” Ariel held out her bloody one.
 “I… I’m human, remember?” Oh God, what was this now?
She smiled. “It’s all right, Molly.”
That sweet smile somehow convinced her she couldn’t say no. Grimacing,
she offered up her palm. Ariel made a quick slice with her knife before Molly
could blink.
“Yeow!” she said through gritted teeth.
Ariel grinned and smashed her bloody palm against Molly’s.
Oh, God. A blood oath with a demon—er, fallen angeling girl child—what
in the world was she thinking?
Ariel held her fast. “If outside is not to my liking,” she said casually, “I
will return here. But you will be free. Free to… keep your shine.”
The tears that had jumped to the back of Molly’s eyes with the blade cut
were now receding… because the pain was gone. Ariel released her and
wiped away the blood on her black toga. It hardly showed. Molly stared at her
own hand, smearing away the residual blood on her palm—there was no sign
of the cut.
Ariel rose to standing.
Molly just stared in wonder at her. Angeling. Maybe it really did fit.
The girl smiled a little and gestured to Molly’s knife. “Do not try to kill
angelkind with that blade, Molly. It won’t work.”
“I can see that.”
Ariel grinned. Then she lifted into the air, arching and swooping away on
her black wings.
It took Molly a minute to collect herself.
She’d just made a blood oath with an angeling. To show her mermaids.
But they were getting out of hell, so that was okay, she’d explain later.
Maybe. If Ariel could learn this “transport” skill before she got whisked away
to the unimaginable horror of “making her vows”—as in, Molly did not want
to imagine it.
She was shaking all the way back to the cot where Ren was still moping.
The two babies were sleeping in their tiny cribs, which were just little wooden
trundles that swung close to the floor. They were right next to Ren’s cot.
“Yeah?” Ren asked without looking up—her face was still buried in the
pillow.
 “Where’s Eden?” Molly’s heart skipped a beat, afraid someone had come
to get Eden and had seen her talking to Ariel.
Ren lifted her head. “Taken away.”
Molly’s heart sank. Well, if someone had noticed, they didn’t care enough
to interfere. She hoped. She slowly eased down on her cot across from Ren’s.
Ren frowned and sat up to face her. “You okay?”
She wasn’t sure what to say. Or how much to tell Ren… yet. She met
Ren’s concerned gaze. “Did you talk to Micah?”
Ren grimaced and dropped her gaze to little Ralphie. She gave his rocker
a soft push with her toes. “He said it’s best if we stick to the plan.”
“The plan?” Molly’s voice hiked up. “There’s no plan, Ren.”
“Yes, there is—”
“Ren.” It was harsher than she meant. But maybe the fact that there was
real hope was making her edgy. Or maybe it was the angeling blood mixed
with hers and healing her hand. “Micah is an angeling.”
Ren’s eyes went wide. She glanced at the kids. “Is that what the girl told
you?”
“Yeah. They’re angelings—I don’t know, maybe evil angels or something
—but they’re powerful. They’re practically indestructible. And if Micah
really wanted to get us out of here… he would.”
“He’s trying!” She was bunching up the blanket again, her face twisted
up.
“What about Eden?” Molly demanded, flinging her hand toward the door.
The locked door with a guard that only opened for food or for Micah or for
some angeling to come haul away her beautiful friend and probably spend a
day raping her. “What do you think is happening to her? Right now.”
“I don’t know!” But the desperation in Ren’s eyes said she knew. Of
course, she knew. They all did. Even though Eden never said a word.
Molly held Ren’s gaze, not letting her look away from this anymore. But
could she trust her? Could she tell her these nascent plans for actually
escaping from this hellish place?
If you want trust, you gotta give it. Her dad’s words from beyond the
grave again. What would he make of all this? But she knew the answer—he
would help everyone he could, from Ariel to Ren to little Ralphie at their feet.
 “Eden can’t go on like this,” Molly said quietly. “You know it will break
her.”
Ren dropped her face into her hands, hiding.
“But I know a way out.”
Ren gasped and looked up. Her eyes were red and her cheeks wet. “What?
How?”
“You can’t tell Micah. I know you love him, but—”
Ren was already nodding.
“The girl. Ariel.” Molly flicked her gaze toward the kids. She couldn’t
make out Ariel from this distance. Even nodding that direction felt like too
much risk. “She’s going to try to get us out.”
Ren’s face squished up. “Are you sure? I mean… can you trust her?”
“I trust you. To not tell Micah.”
Her expression fell blank. “I promise I won’t.”
“You really can’t, Ren.” She held still, waiting for it—waiting for Ren to
say no or to decide she’d have to tell Micah after all.
Ren cradled her belly, the one carrying Micah’s child.
Oh shit. “You could stay,” Molly said softly. Maybe Micah really loved
her. Maybe he truly had a plan to get her and the baby away, somewhere safe.
Ren had to be thinking the same. But in Molly’s heart of hearts, she knew the
most likely outcome was much worse. A place like the nursery wouldn’t exist
if things like that were possible.
“No.” Ren’s voice was a whisper. “No… I do love him,” she said
earnestly. “But I have to think of the baby. I mean…” Her eyes drifted back to
the brutal playground of the kids. “If I’m wrong, my baby ends up here.”
“That’s exactly right.” Molly kept her sigh of relief inside. “You want
your baby to have a Momma, right? A real momma—not just the next round
of women who get captured and knocked up by these supernatural dudes.”
Ren nodded. She would make a great mom—Eden took care of the babies
most of the time, but Ren was a nurse on the outside and a natural at it. Molly
wasn’t so sure about herself. The whole “mom” thing was still a total alien
mystery to her. But she didn’t want any child to grow up in a place like the
nursery. So, they’d have to take Ralphie and Eva with them. She’d tell Ariel
the next time they met.
 “Just hold tight for now,” Molly said. “Ariel’s working on it. I don’t know
how long… but soon. A few days at most.” It had to happen before this
Devon character made his vows and graduated out of the nursery, taking the
secret of how to travel with him.
Once they had that… they would be gone.
Ren nodded, wiped her face, then bent to pick up Ralphie. He was waking
up and fussing. Molly scrubbed her face with both hands to clear away the
tension.
They might be leaving soon.
As long as Lady Bad Luck didn’t strike again.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Five

A SA GRITTED HIS TEETH THROUGH THE PAIN .

Razael’s fingers painted the air in front of Asa’s bared chest, and the
magic carving him was like a red-hot blade. Removing his mark. Ten years
ago, he’d taken his vow, pledging his life to Razael and his Regiment. The
mark branded him as belonging to the angel, under his protection. Asa had
failed in his walkabout, Fallen from grace, and was banished from the
Dominions of light—his mark was a symbol of the only home he would ever
have.
Now Razael was removing it.
The last of the inky tendrils disappeared from his skin, and the pain
ceased, but Asa felt naked in a way he hadn’t since his Fall. Razael released
him from the magic hold which bound him during the process, mostly to keep
him still through the pain.
Asa rubbed the heel of his hand where the mark had been, even though the
residual flashes of pain were in his soul, not his skin. “You sure this is going
to work?” he asked Tajael, who was standing by, watching, impassive.
“No.”
Asa resisted the urge to snarl. He buckled his battle armor back into place.
“I can send someone else.” Razael wore his concern plain on his face. “If
this fails, I’ll need you here to prosecute this war.”
“We can’t afford for this to fail,” Asa said, clearing his throat and the
leftover pain. “That’s why I’m the one who needs to go.” He’d got enough
rest and recovery from his wounds—his thinking on this was clear. That
didn’t make it smart. But infiltrating Elyon’s Regiment to turn his son, Micah,
was the best chance they had for bringing him down. And the angel had to be
stopped, or he would destroy everything. This was too important—Razael
couldn’t send some angeling who might hesitate to offer his life for the
Regiment—and Asa had proven himself in that regard several times. Most
recently, just yesterday.
He faced Tajael. “But I’m unclear how the Summer Queen is going to
smuggle me into Elyon’s Regiment.”
“I’ll let her explain that herself,” Tajael said. “I’m just the liaison,
remember? Besides, the less I know, the better. You need to have a couple
degrees of separation between the light angels and yourself to have any hope
of this working.”
As much as Asa loathed the fae, Tajael was right—they made a good
intermediary.
“Be careful, Asa,” Razael said.
Asa nearly smiled—that was two hesitations. He’d always felt there was
more than just a vow-bond between them. Asa’s dedication and Razael’s
worthiness… these explained how Asa rose so quickly in the Regiment’s
ranks. But there was more than that—he and Razael were of common stock,
as much as an angel and angeling can be. “I have every intent of returning—
and with a solution to this war in hand.”
Razael tipped his head.
Asa couldn’t even take a blessing for his travels, much less the blade that
carried Razael’s power humming through it—he’d fashioned a new one and
sheathed it at his side.
He faced Tajael. “Ready.” He let the light angeling guide him with a hand
on his shoulder as he opened an interdimensional doorway. Asa could have
sought the Summer Queen’s signature in magical space himself, but it was
better to come invited into the enemy’s lair.
A twist and a moment later, and they were standing in a throne room that
looked like a gardener’s fantasy. The hazy walls glowed yellow like the sun,
and the floor was a carpet of grass interspersed with springy moss and tiny
white flowers. Vines dangled from the ceiling, and giant twists of wood rose
up to a canopy of branches and leaves. Large, ethereal butterfly-like beings
flitted through the air—he could sense their spell-magic, but he didn’t know
their purpose. The fae courts—like the light angels’ Dominions and the
shadow angels’ Regiments—were a construct of magic. Everything here had
been conjured, and like the fae glamour in the alleyway in Seattle, the illusion
was complete. In the center sat an elaborate throne of twisted vines and a riot
of flowers—only the throne was no mere chair, but a swing.
And the fae Queen of the Summer Court was perched upon it.
She dragged her bare toes lazily through the grass below. Her dress
shimmered across her body like liquid silver, covering her breasts and sex but
barely anything else. Silver-white hair sprung wild and voluminous, covering
more skin than her clothes as it cascaded down the front and back of her body.
Both her hair and the silver tailings of her dress pooled on the grass.
“Nyssa,” Tajael called out, raising a hand to capture her attention away
from the butterfly perched on her hand. “May I present Asa, formerly of
Razael’s Regiment?”
A languid smile blossomed on her face. “You may.” She rose from her
throne and sauntered across the grass toward them, slow and languorous, her
nearly colorless eyes fixed on Asa.
Tajael clapped a hand on Asa’s shoulder and bent near to say, “Good
luck.”
“Wait—what?”
But then the light angeling was gone.
Asa grimaced as the fae queen approached. He should have gone over the
plan in more detail with Tajael prior to being left in fae territory on his own.
The queen still held the fluorescent green butterfly on a single finger. She
stroked it, then drew a likewise stroking glance along the length of his body.
He’d been undressed by a lustful angeling’s gaze before, so it took little
imagination to know the queen’s intent.
He couldn’t help curling his lip in disgust.
“Oh, now.” The queen pouted. “Am I so unlovely to look upon that you
must make that face?”
He had no answer to that. Not a civil one, anyway.
She prowled around him, letting her eyes feast. He stood obediently still,
waiting for her to circle back.
 “I presume Tajael explained—”
“Oh, yes, he explained,” she purred. “That a shadow angeling was in need
of my help.”
“That we have a common foe—”
“That too.” She stopped in front of him again and smiled lasciviously. “I
once asked Tajael if he were interested in having his Fall in my bed.”
Okay. He couldn’t help the rise in his eyebrows. “And?”
“And… he was too pure for that. But you…”
He leaned back a little. “I am here for your help in…” He stalled out,
seeing too late where this was headed.
“Yes, but in exchange for what?” Her colorless eyes lit up, and she passed
the green butterfly in front of his face. “An aphrodisiac, if you’re in need of
one. Although I’d prefer you in your natural, broken and terribly Fallen state.”
A chill ran through him. “I’m sure I’m not to your taste.”
“Oh, but I’m certain you are.” She licked her lips and stepped closer. “I
can have any fae in my Court, in any manner I please, but they all must love
me, don’t you see? They must curry favor with their queen. And yet, I have,
on occasion, a taste for something different. Something altogether…
naughty.”
“I’m sure a number of angelings in my Regiment would be happy to—”
“Yes, but you are in my throne room. Asking for favors.”
Asa sighed. She wasn’t letting this go—what in the name of magic did
Tajael promise her? And while he was disgusted by any contact with a fae,
much less an intimate one, he would do it in the cause of infiltrating and
bringing down Elyon. But he feared… he might simply displease the queen.
In her bed. Because he was broken in the ways of pleasure, not to mention
completely inexperienced. Which would put his entire mission at risk.
“Your majesty,” he said, softening his rigid stance and imploring her with
his eyes. “I am not your typical shadow angeling.”
A slow smile grew on her face. “All the better.”
He briefly closed his eyes. When he opened them, she had closed the
space between them, her high and pointed breasts nearly touching his chest
armor. Her lips were parted, her eyes expectant.
He put his hands on her shoulders then leaned away.
 A small cloud of anger gathered on her face. The butterfly was suddenly
in his face, its green wings pulsing and nearly brushing his cheek. He tried to
lean away, but some magic had gripped him and held him in place.
“Perhaps my sprite will have you convinced.”
“Nyssa, please.”
His use of her name made her blink.
“You don’t understand.” He struggled against the unseen force, trying not
to let the sprite’s wings touch him. “I’m not like other shadowlings in that my
Fall was Wrath, not Lust.”
She frowned and pulled back. “That is unusual.”
He breathed a little easier. “I fear I would be a bumbling fool in your bed,
Queen Nyssa. You deserve better than that. I’ll arrange for another to take my
place in that regard. Whatever you wish.” He was talking fast now as she
pulled further away. “But I need your assistance in infiltrating Elyon’s
Regiment.”
“You need?” She arched an eyebrow, but her voice was cool. “I thought
this was to benefit Razael’s quest to contain Elyon and his ambitions.”
It was a figure of speech, but since it intrigued her… “Yes, I have a
personal stake in this. My Fall involved a human. One I loved desperately but
never… never consummated that love. Elyon’s minions destroyed her. I will
have my vengeance upon him. For her. And her child.”
Both her eyebrows lifted. “Driven by love, then. Even in shadow.”
That flushed heat through him—he couldn’t tell if it was embarrassment
or a strange sort of danger signal as if the fae queen were close to knowing
something about him he didn’t know himself. “Driven by revenge. And a pure
need for it, too.”
She nodded, absently, then lifted her fingers to liberate the sprite she had
threatened him with.
“I’ve already sent a hundred fae warriors to strengthen Razael’s
Regiment,” she said with more warmth. “And I’ll deliver you to the angel
Zuriel. She’ll be able to send you where you need to go.”
Asa’s shoulders had hunched up—he let them drop. “Thank you.”
She gave him a nod, then placed a hand on his shoulder. Her touch was
light—he barely felt it through his rough leather armor. When she leaned
close and looked up into his eyes, her expression was softer. Almost sweet.
It captured him with surprise.
“When you have avenged your True Love,” she whispered, like it was a
secret, “come to me. I will teach you all the things you have missed, my dark
angeling.”
His mouth dropped open, but no words came. It wasn’t a demand, more
an offer… and one he strangely considered for a brief moment. There was a
certain… liberation… in knowing the fae Queen would take what she wanted
and expect nothing from him other than that.
“Perhaps I shall,” he whispered in return.
One corner of her mouth curled up.
Then she twisted, opened an interdimensional portal, and yanked them
both out of her throne room. The queen brought him to a new magical space,
only this one was in the style of the ancients. Soaring stone archways and
black granite underfoot, this palace looked like a castle of earthly pale rock
and mortar. He and the fae queen stood on a flagstone balcony that jutted out
over an abyss of shadow and surrounded by a silo of craggy stone cliffs.
Shadow angelings filled the air and clung to the walls and stood on either side
of the throne.
It took Asa a moment to see the female angel who sat upon it, she was so
covered in the attention of her angelings… and she was human-sized, not the
inhumanly large manifestation most angels wore.
She lounged back on the stone chair, legs spread, arms flung to the sides.
A female angeling had her face between the angel’s legs, pleasing her there,
while two males attended to her breasts with their mouths and hands. A fourth
angeling clung to the headpiece of the throne, straddling her head and feeding
his cock to her. Several more crowded the sides of her throne, seeking the
angel’s touch, even just on their wrists or faces. They shuddered with
pleasure, eyes rolled back, mouths agape.
The moans and whimpers were so loud, Nyssa had to draw close to make
herself heard. “Now this is what I’m talking about, Asa, darling.”
Asa had heard tell of the insane pleasure an angel could bring—it was a
constant grumble in Razael’s Regiment that he did not fuck his angelings the
way other shadow angels did.
 “Ahem. Zuriel?” Nyssa called out. “Sorry to interrupt, dear.”
The whimpers turned into cries of disappointment as Zuriel emerged from
the attentions of her angelings and shooed them away. Her eyelids still
drooped with pleasure, and she kept the angeling between her legs, grasping
her head and grinding against her face. But measuring by the muffled cries
and trembling of the angeling there, it was she who was finishing, not the
angel herself.
“Hello, Nyssa,” Zuriel said, her voice like syrup and her gaze locked on
the fae queen.
Then the angeling between her legs let out a cry, convulsed, and Zuriel
drew her away from her sex, lifting her to standing. She kissed the girl full on
the lips, causing another shuddering cry to shake the girl’s body. Finally, the
angel released her. Two more angelings rushed over to catch the girl as she
nearly collapsed to the stone floor. They hauled her back.
Zuriel slowly stepped forward, completely naked, steps heavy with
whatever pleasure she had just extracted. “To what do I owe this
interruption?” she asked in that same honey-dipped voice. By the time she
crossed the flagstones to meet them, she was dressed in black—a dress made
of crystal and smoke—and had grown in size, towering over everyone on the
balcony.
Asa hoped Nyssa was on the good terms she claimed to Tajael. Otherwise,
this was the beginning and end of their adventure.
“A solution to a mutual problem,” Nyssa said smoothly, seeming
undaunted by the thrumming power of the angel before her.
“And which problem would that be?” But Zuriel seemed patient for the
answer.
“Elyon and his ambitions,” Nyssa said. “And the Winter Court’s enabling
of them.”
Zuriel tipped her head for Nyssa to continue.
“The Winter Court is apparently sending foot soldiers to help Elyon brawl
with the light angels on the streets of Seattle.” Nyssa waved that away.
“The humans are progressing with their device,” Zuriel countered. “It is a
problem.”
“It’s a problem mainly because Remasay is an angry fool and Elyon
suffers eternally from his Wrath.”
“True,” Zuriel said. “Which is why I refused Elyon’s entreaties to bolster
his forces with my own. I’d rather have my angelings at my chair, not slain in
a war that will only serve to bring the Warrior Angels out of their slumber. It
is a fool’s game.”
“I’d like you to reconsider that,” Asa ventured.
Zuriel scowled and barely glanced at him. “I wasn’t aware you’d acquired
a shadowling pet, Nyssa.”
Asa grimaced.
Nyssa huffed a short laugh. “This is Asa, formerly of Razael’s Regiment,
currently in search of a way to infiltrate Elyon’s forces—he claims it is
possible to turn Elyon’s son against him.”
Zuriel’s scowl transformed into surprise. She gave Asa a long look, then
finally said, “That’s a dangerous game you wish to play, shadowling.”
“I have my reasons.”
“Yes, I see you do.” Zuriel’s gaze was piercing. Angels saw straight
through any pretense an angeling cared to offer—the state of one’s soul was
always on display them—which was part of the danger of attempting to fool
an angel of any kind, least of all one as dangerous as Elyon.
Asa couldn’t know what Zuriel saw—not precisely—but angelings also
had the gift of sight, at least when the bright radiance of human souls were on
display. It was part of the allure, the impossible attraction that drew him to the
one woman who’d ever mattered to him.
“Elyon should see that I’m filled with Wrath,” Asa said simply. “I will use
that as the pretext—say I convinced you to let me join the cause, in spite of
your reticence. I’ll explain that I’m full of a need for vengeance, and this war
of his against the light is my chance to have it.”
Zuriel nodded, slow and thoughtful. “You might not survive his
consideration.”
Asa lifted his chin. “And I might turn the war against him—in a way he
won’t see coming.”
Nyssa added, “The Winter Court is helping Elyon escalate the fight. I’m
countering with forces from the Summer Court. But none of this ends well for
the shadow realm, Zuriel—not if the Warrior Angels are summoned.”
 Zuriel let a small smirk onto her face. “Nor for the fae, either, I imagine.
Do you remember the last time?”
Asa’s eyebrows shot up, and he dashed a look to Nyssa. How old was
she?
“It was before my time,” Nyssa said coolly, “but I heard the tales from my
mother. And any fool knows the awakening of a warrior race can’t be good
for any immortal creature.”
“Indeed.” Zuriel beckoned Asa forward. “Come, my brave shadowling.
Let me mark you as my own before I send you to your likely, yet noble,
death.”
Asa grimaced but stepped toward her. He’d dealt with many shadow
angels, but he’d never met one who struck him as fundamentally good,
despite their Fall—except Razael. And now, he hoped, Zuriel.
A force suddenly gripped him—the same angel power with which Razael
held him in place when removing his mark. With a flick of Zuriel’s fingers,
Asa’s leather jacket was torn asunder, baring his chest. Then the searing pain
began as she floated her fingers over his flesh, carving her mark there.
Asa gritted his teeth, trying to trap the anguish inside, but his body was
still wracked from its recent pain, and he soon lost that battle…
His screams echoed off the stone castle looming above him.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Six

M OLLY STROKED E DEN ’ S LONG BLOND HAIR — IT FELT LIKE SILK .

“Honey, you need to eat something,” Molly tried.
Eden said nothing—didn’t even open her eyes—just gave a minuscule
shake of her head. Molly had asked her three times, even brought over her
tray from the front where the Hot Stuff angeling dropped it off, but she
refused. It was going on a day since Eden had gotten back from her “time
away” from the nursery, and Molly hadn’t seen her eat. At all.
It was bad this time.
But Molly pestering her wasn’t fixing anything. “Okay, but don’t blame
me if Ren eats it when she’s done.” She smiled, but Eden’s eyes were still
closed.
They both could hear Ren and Micah going at it again in the tent.
Molly sighed and rose up from the cot where Eden was curled up, blanket
pulled to her chin. She took the tray—ham and cheese, apple, and a carton of
milk—and placed it on Ren’s cot nearby. The babies—Eva and Ralphie—
were both sleeping in their cradles. That Eden wouldn’t even feed them their
daily bottles with lunch alarmed Molly the most. Before, when they came for
Eden, it had always been awful after, but this time… Molly didn’t know if
something different had happened or if it finally just broke her beautiful
friend. Regardless, it made her clench her fists and want to scream her
frustration—she would except it would only freak out the babies and
accomplish nothing.
But she was more determined than ever to get out of this place.
 Ren’s cries carried across the nursery. Micah couldn’t seem to stay away
from her, now that he was “back” from wherever he went. Ren’s shrieks were
ramping up to another peak. Was this the third or the fourth? Molly had lost
count. Their tent-shaking lovemaking was even more depressing. Not because
Molly wanted to be banging a hot angeling—that had been fun while it lasted,
but it just landed her here. And fucking pregnant. No, it stressed her out
because the more Micah lavished orgasms on Ren, the more Molly was sure
she wouldn’t want to leave. And they had to.
She would leave Ren behind if necessary. Eden couldn’t take any more.
Molly stood and stretched and decided if the babies woke and fussed—
and she wasn’t there to pick them up immediately—that maybe that would
draw Eden out of her funk. Mostly, Molly’s legs were itching to cruise toward
the kids’ end of the nursery, to get an update from Ariel. They hadn’t talked
since the girl angeling promised to work a trade with this Devon character in
exchange for learning how to “transport”—and Molly was dying to know if
they’d made a deal. One that didn’t involve trading sexual favors, although
she was afraid that was in Ariel’s future anyway.
If she returned to this place.
Molly had every intention of talking Ariel out of that.
She strolled toward the bustle of action at the kids’ end of the cavern.
Either they were used to Micah and Ren’s orgasmic noises, or they just were
caught up in their game, but no one seemed to notice them… or Molly
approaching.
The kids had conjured white and black togas for their latest foray into
fighting. This appeared to be a team thing, but really, it was just an all-out
melee. Hand-to-hand combat seemed their favorite sport. Ariel and the tallest
boy—Molly wagered he was Devon, the oldest—were fighting back-to-back
on the black team. She hoped that was a good sign.
The skirmish went on and on, each side bloodying the other more.
Molly took a seat on the cot where she and Ariel had met two times before
and waited. The fighting dragged on, but kids were dropping out—either
knocked cold by their opponents or taken out by injuries that had them reeling
on the floor and crawling away. The black side was winning. Then again, they
had two of the biggest kids on their side. Seemed a little unfair.
 Somehow, Molly didn’t think “fair” was part of these kids’ world.
Not that “fair” had much play in the world of humans, but at least they
pretended. And some people thought it should be better—like her. She’d had
more than her share of bad luck, but that didn’t mean you stopped trying to
make things right. If Molly believed that, she’d just be making a home in the
nursery for whatever time she had left.
Bitters aren’t quitters. Her dad was right.
Finally, the dark side triumphed. Some of the black-toga kids went in for
some extra punishment on the white-toga kids. Except Ariel and Devon. They
had snuck off to the side, behind one of the giant crates used to bring in
food…
Hairs rose on the back of Molly’s neck. Ariel promised she wouldn’t trade
sex.
Devon put his hands on Ariel’s shoulders. She was looking up into his
eyes. Molly couldn’t catch their words, not over the moaning and crying of
the vanquished team and the jeers and mockery of the triumphant. If they did
something… she’d have to just look away. There was no way she was strong
enough to stop them. Although she was tempted to try anyway.
She couldn’t drag her gaze away.
Devon bent down—Molly thought he might be kissing Ariel, but if so, it
was only on the cheek.
Then he released Ariel… and disappeared.
Molly stood up kind of automatically like her body was jolted upright
with surprise. He did it. He “traveled.” Maybe he was whispering the secrets
of how to Ariel!
Molly threw a quick glance back to her side of the nursery. Eden was still
curled up under her blanket. The babies were sleeping. And things had
quieted down with Ren and Micah in the tent. They’d have to wait until
Micah left, but if Ariel was ready to go now…
Molly whipped her gaze around to search for Ariel. She was heading this
way.
Molly’s heart skipped a beat. She tried to keep her excitement inside, but
her body was a live wire of tension. She stroked the round of her belly. Soon,
baby, soon. We’re getting out of here. She’d started talking to the baby after
she met Ariel. She wasn’t sure why, but it seemed to calm her raging nerves,
and she figured it didn’t hurt.
As soon as Ariel was close enough to talk, Molly blurted out, “Did you
find out?”
Ariel frowned. “Find out what?” A trickle of blood ran down her cheek
from a cut that was still healing. She wiped absently at it.
“How to travel.” Molly hissed that last part, low enough that hopefully
the other recovering angelings wouldn’t overhear.
Ariel sighed. “Not yet.” Then she took a seat on the cot, looking weary.
Molly dropped down beside her. “You okay?” Gah. She really should
have been more concerned about the whole melee thing, not just her prospects
for escape.
Ariel half-frowned and half-smiled, leaning slightly away. “You’re doing
that shining thing again.”
“I am? Um… okay.”
Ariel’s smile won out. “It’s okay. It’s pretty.” Then she dropped her voice.
“Devon is in his second day of Practice with his Master. Tomorrow he takes
his vows.”
“But I saw him… travel.” Molly’s eyes were wide. Sure, these were
angelings, and everything here seemed like it was basically magic, but still.
The boy just disappeared.
Ariel nodded. “His Master taught him how, but…” She frowned. “The
Master has taught him many things. Things Devon didn’t want to know.”
Molly swallowed. But maybe this would help her convince Ariel not to
return. “Did he tell you what things?”
“Yes.” Her frown grew. “Devon is convinced he has no choice but to take
his vows tomorrow. He met the angel and…” Ariel grimaced like she’d just
discovered something bitter in her mouth.
“Wait… I thought you guys were the angels.”
Ariel rolled her eyes. “We are angeling. Angels are creatures of God.” She
said this like Molly was stupid. Which she supposed she was about this stuff.
Then Ariel’s face fell grimly serious again. “The angel Elyon is our Regiment
leader. He is vastly powerful. Devon is afraid to teach me the secrets of
transport lest he be discovered. Elyon might not allow him to make his vows.”
 “Maybe that’s a good thing—”
“That is not a good thing.” Ariel’s scowl left that unquestionable.
Molly’s shoulders sagged. “So what do we do?” It felt like Lady Bad
Luck was staging a comeback.
“Fear not.” Ariel actually patted Molly’s clenched-up hand resting on the
cot. “Devon promised to show me just before he leaves for his vows. There’s
a leave-taking for every angeling. The oldest bestows all his possessions on
the young ones. Devon says traveling will be my parting gift, only in private,
so the others don’t see. We cannot use it until he is gone. That way he will
still be able to make his vows.”
Molly’s eyes went wide. “So… tomorrow. We’re going tomorrow.”
“Yes.” Ariel pressed her lips together, and her gaze drifted to the
recovering angeling children.
Would Ariel miss the other kids? “You’re very brave to do this,” she said
quietly. “And very kind to help my friends and me.”
Ariel turned a grim smile back to her. “You will keep your promise. About
the ocean. And I will keep mine.”
Molly wanted to reach out and hug the girl, but that didn’t seem in the
universe of possibilities. So she just smiled instead. “Tomorrow, then.”
Ariel nodded and lifted from the cot to rise into the air on her black wings.
When Molly worked her way back to the cots with Eden and the babies,
Ren had returned. Her hair was wet, so at least she had showered after her
noisy rounds of sex with her angeling lover. That was considerate. But now
Ren was back to lying on her cot and looking like someone had hollowed out
her heart, despite the rosy glow still on her cheeks.
“I talked to him again,” Ren said without looking at Molly, still staring at
the ceiling.
“About leaving?” Molly took a seat on the cot opposite her. The tray she
had left—Eden’s tray—was on the floor, still untouched. Eden’s eyes were
closed, but Molly couldn’t tell if she was sleeping or not.
“He says it’s not safe. Not until the baby is born.” Ren bit her lip. “Then
he used sex to get me to stop talking about it.”
Ouch. “I’m sorry, Ren.”
She finally turned her soft brown eyes Molly’s way. “Do you think he’s
just using me…” She choked up, looking back to the ceiling. “Just using me
for…”
For sex? For the baby? Honestly, she had no idea. But that wasn’t what
Ren needed to hear. “Ren, he wouldn’t keep coming around if… if he didn’t
care.” Technically, that had to be true.
Ren bunched up her fists in the blanket, then sat up, facing Eden, whose
eyes were still closed. Either their conversation wasn’t waking her or she was
ignoring them. “Eden’s angeling doesn’t care. Yet he still summons her.”
Molly winced.
Eden’s eyes fluttered open and stared dully.
Ren had the decency to cover her mouth with both hands as if the words
just slipped out on their own. “I’m sorry!” she gasped, her words muffled by
her own hands.
“He cares a lot.” Eden’s words were almost… slurred.
Molly was frozen. Ren dashed her a horrified look—but she didn’t know
what Eden meant, either.
Slowly, with great care, as if Eden were bruised all over, she pushed
herself up to sitting. Her dull-eyed gaze immediately found the babies, still
snoozing away in their cradles. Nothing could wake those little ones once
they were down for a good sleep. Seeing they were fine, Eden’s gaze
wandered the nursery, in a vaguely horrified way, almost as if seeing it for the
first time.
Molly’s heart sunk more with each beat that Eden seemed lost.
Finally, Eden’s gaze landed and dropped anchor on Molly. “The one who
takes me… he cares about me like a fine horse or prized dog. He cares that I
am healthy and growing his child. He cares that I keep going, keep living,
even if this isn’t living…” Her eyes lost focus again.
Molly’s legs unlocked, and she hurried to Eden’s side, dropping to her
knees next to the cot. Ren was there instantly on her other side.
Ren was babbling. “I didn’t mean… I’m so sorry… Oh, God, I’m sorry,
Eden.”
Eden just laid a hand on her arm and gave her a sad smile.
“Are you okay?” Molly asked, even though she knew Eden wasn’t. She
knew this before… but now there was a whole new level of despair in Eden’s
eyes.
Eden’s gaze sharpened again, and she put a hand to Molly’s cheek. Her
fingers were bone cold. “You always care so much. But you don’t need to
worry about me.” Yet she said it in a way that made Molly’s stomach clench
even tighter.
“I’m getting us out of here.” Molly pressed Eden’s hand to her cheek
before she could pull it away. “You need to just hang on, okay? We’re going
to leave. And then everything’s going to be good again.”
Eden gave her a pitying look that hollowed out Molly’s soul. She’d never
seen anything so dark. “Nothing’s ever going to be good again, Moll. You
should know that by now.”
Ren’s eyes went wide, panicked. But her mouth just fell open, no words
coming out.
And what could she say?
Eden tugged her hand away, closed her eyes, and lay back down.
Ren and Molly shared a look of horror, then Molly quickly tugged her up
and away from Eden’s cot. She tipped her head toward the door. They weren’t
going anywhere, but that was the furthest they could get from their cluster of
cots in the middle of the room. Maybe it wouldn’t matter if Eden overheard
them, but Molly could at least try.
Just short of the door, Molly pulled Ren to a stop. “It’s happening
tomorrow.”
“What? You mean—”
Molly’s nod cut her off. “Ariel’s getting us out. She’s going with us—me,
Eden, Ralphie, Eva. Tell me now if you’re coming. Because I can’t argue with
you about this in front of Eden. She’s too fragile. I don’t want her to…” She
swallowed. “I just need to get her out of here. Somewhere out of reach of…
him. Then we can work on getting her healed, okay? And really… I could
really use your help with this, Ren. But if you’re staying, you need to tell me.
Now.”
Ren was stricken, listening to the whole running monologue, aggressively
chewing her lip. Then she nodded. Vigorously. “I’m going with you.”
Relief sagged Molly’s shoulders. “Not going to change your mind?”
“No.”
 “Even if Micah—”
“Even if Micah.”
“Okay.” And that was probably the best Molly would get. “Tomorrow.”
Ren straightened to her full height and stopped biting her lip. “I’ll be
ready.”
Molly sincerely hoped so.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Seven

A RRIVING IN ENEMY TERRITORY , EVEN ACCOMPANIED BY AN ANGEL , IS RISKY

business.
Zuriel escorted Asa via interdimensional travel into the heart of Elyon’s
Regiment… and it was like setting off an angeling bomb. Wings erupted
everywhere, taking flight. The shush of blades leaving their sheaths cut the
air. Elyon himself leaped from his throne to stand on the balcony outside his
palace, flinging off the angelings who had been attending him.
The only reason Zuriel and Asa weren’t dead was because she pulsed the
full strength of her power into a blast that swept all but Elyon from the black
crystal balcony.
“Elyon!” she called out with full ear-blasting angelsong. “I come with an
offer, my most angry of Dark Lords.”
Maybe it was the angelsong. Maybe the honeyed request that came after.
Asa couldn’t tell, but Elyon didn’t return that blast with one of his own. He
simply regarded Zuriel with suspicion and loathing that, if matched with
magical intent, would reduce a lesser being to a puddle. Angelings lived a
long time—not truly immortal, but hundreds of years—but Asa had never felt
his mortality as thoroughly as when he stood between two true immortals,
towering and terrifying in all their angel power. Zuriel’s dress of smoke and
black crystal misted around her. Elyon’s massive wings spread behind him, as
midnight as the rough battle armor that instantly appeared upon their arrival.
His white-silver hair floated in a magical wind around him, whereas Zuriel’s
black tresses were like ink stirring in unseen currents.
 The air thrummed with the power of both.
“Zuriel,” Elyon acknowledged, his voice temperate, not the angelsong
Zuriel had blasted through them all. “Have you reconsidered your unfortunate
lack of faith in my plans?”
“Not exactly.” Somehow her voice cushioned that fall. “But one of my
most trusted warriors has pleaded otherwise. Asa would like to join your
coalition. He will be my emissary, and should he report back favorably, I’d be
inclined to send more warriors to stand by his side.”
“How… interesting,” Elyon said coolly. “So you are in the habit of having
angelings sway you on matters of your Regiment.”
A twitter went around, Elyon’s angelings having come down from their
initial shock and now snickering at Zuriel’s expense.
“I know when to listen to others who are making sense,” she replied.
Asa flicked a look at his literal Guardian Angel—she was oversized now,
to match Elyon’s physical manifestation, but that retort… Asa was surprised
Elyon didn’t take it as the slam it was.
Could an angel be dull-witted? The thought had never occurred to him,
but then Asa had spent all his time growing up in a light angel’s Dominion,
and all his time while in shadow in Razael’s Regiment—and it was
increasingly clear how unique Razael was among the dark angels. Asa’s brief
time attempting a suicidal attack on Elyon’s Regiment was made outside of
the keep, and he only survived it because Elyon had not been present—and
Razael’s forces happened to clash with Elyon’s at the same time. In short,
Elyon had never seen Asa’s face, and Asa had never witnessed the small mind
of such a large and powerful angel in action.
But Asa’s dark need for vengeance—revenge for the death of his Ellie—
pulsed as strongly in his soul as that day he found her floating in her own
blood. That need had broken him, and the chasm in his soul remained to this
day.
“And this one is your offering?” Elyon smiled in a way that surged Asa’s
need to destroy him even stronger. It took everything in his power to keep
silent.
“His name is Asa, and I’d prefer to get him back in one piece.”
“This is war, Zuriel, not a walkabout.” Elyon was mocking her again, his
smile lazy and broad for the surge in snickering all around him.
“Well, I certainly won’t be sending you more of my warriors if you get
this one killed immediately.”
The humor fell from Elyon’s face. “Very well. I accept your offer. He will
go into rotation with my angelings and see the war we are bringing to
lightkind. Perhaps then you will realize the full extent of your folly in not
joining me.” Then he trained his dark eyes on Asa. “Your Wrath will find a
home here, young angeling.” He smiled the way a viper does.
“It will be my pleasure to serve your cause.” Asa didn’t risk saying more.
Elyon saw what he wanted in Asa’s soul, just as he’d hoped.
Zuriel turned to face him. “Report back in a week.”
He tipped his head. He hoped to be through in much less time, but it was
good to have a deadline—one Elyon would be forced to reckon with if Asa
went missing.
Or his true intent was discovered.
Zuriel twisted, opened a doorway, and traveled back to her Regiment.
Asa held his breath and turned to face Elyon. “Your wish, my lord?” He
figured Elyon would either smite him the moment Zuriel was gone, or he
would be sent straight away to the battle on the streets of Seattle—at which
point he would have room to seek Elyon’s son, Micah, on his own.
Instead, Elyon ignored him. “Micah,” he called out, jolting Asa’s heart.
What? How was he… did Elyon know? Asa held still, breath frozen in his
chest, as an angeling emerged from the gathered crowd on the balcony.
“Yes, father?” He fit the description Oriel had given of Elyon’s son.
Asa’s heart thudded erratically. He hoped Elyon would take no notice of
that.
The angel waved a dismissive hand at Asa. “Assign this one to the
nursery. Make sure he sees no action whatsoever. We wouldn’t want to risk a
single feather on this precious one’s wings.”
Laughter rippled through the crowd, wings rustling and eyes measuring.
The nursery? Elyon was putting him on babysitting duty? Razael had
nothing of the kind—he actively forbade his angelings from creating more of
their kind—but Asa knew Elyon grew his numbers by exactly that. Breeding.
“What of his report back to Zuriel?” Micah seemed agitated for reasons
Asa couldn’t understand—but Asa was frozen in objecting because contacting
Elyon’s son was his entire mission, and here Micah stood before him.
“I am, of course, willing to serve duty time on whatever assignment is
required.” Asa was bumbling this—he couldn’t seem too eager. “But if I don’t
have some knowledge of the war—”
It was only a flicker in Elyon’s eyes, but an unseen force blasted Asa,
sending him hurtling off the balcony and crashing into several angelings mid-
flight. He tumbled briefly, then spread his wings and caught himself, looping
back, bruised but essentially unharmed.
He hesitated… then landed on the balcony once more. “Or as my lord
wishes.” He dropped his gaze, head bent, in a properly servile way.
Elyon chuffed his laughter, and his angelings joined him.
All except Micah, whose dark brown eyes were boring into Asa. He was
suspicious. Asa couldn’t decide if that was good or not. A female angeling
with jet black hair and a warrior’s outfit stepped from the crowd, coming up
to Micah from behind to whisper something to him. He ignored her and strode
forward to Asa.
Miraculously, Asa kept his triumph locked inside.
“Come with me,” Micah said, then roughly clamped a hand on Asa’s
shoulder.
He wrenched Asa through an interdimensional door. They reappeared just
outside a physical door in a dark crystal hallway—one with a half-asleep
angeling sitting on a chair. The angeling jolted awake then scrambled to
standing when he saw Micah.
“Leave us,” Micah growled.
The angeling twisted right out of there without hesitation.
This was all moving so fast. Asa had assumed it would take effort to
actually hunt down Micah and gain an opportunity to speak to him. Suddenly,
they were alone in Elyon’s palace, and he wasn’t at all sure what to say. Game
for betraying your father? He’d have to hold back, gain Asa’s confidence—
Micah’s blade was suddenly at his neck, forcing him back against the cool
surface of the wall.
“Wha—” But Asa couldn’t even get that out before the air popped with
another angeling making an entrance.
 “Oh, good!” It was the female from the balcony, the one who’d tried to
catch Micah’s attention. “You’ve got him right where I want him.”
Asa just stared. What the hell was happening?
“What do you want, Terah?” Micah grumbled, but he eased off the blade
at Asa’s throat.
Terah scowled. “Well, don’t stop now!”
Micah gave her a perplexed look, beckoning her to explain. For which
Asa was grateful—then they’d both know what was going on.
“I was trying to tell you,” she snarled. “I don’t trust this one.”
Micah leaned back, flicking looks between Terah and Asa. “You know
him?” he asked Terah.
“Do I know you?” Asa demanded. His heart was slamming his chest. He
was almost certain he’d never actually seen her—but had she seen him? Oriel
had shared all kinds of information about her—Terah, Magis in Elyon’s
Regiment, one of his most trusted advisors, yet subversive and a potential
target for turning against Elyon. It was possible she’d been at one of the many
melees where they’d taken on Elyon’s forces, fighting hand to hand. Asa
didn’t remember her, but if she was already on to him…
“Don’t flatter yourself, Fiesty.” But she gave him another scan like she
wasn’t sure. Then to Micah, she said, “I don’t trust the Wrath-Fallen. They
have issues.”
“I know,” he complained, but the venom wasn’t there. Not until he turned
to face Asa. “Which is why we’re going to come to an understanding.”
How did he manage to piss these people off? “Look, I don’t know what
you’re talking about—”
“Shut up, Wrath-Fallen,” Terah snapped. She sighed and turned to Micah.
“Things are just… delicate, right now. But you’re right—killing him probably
isn’t the way to go. Messy. But don’t trust him, either.”
“I’ve got this handled.” Micah only seemed slightly annoyed.
“All right.” She gave another pinched look to Asa. “I’m watching you,
brown eyes.”
And with that mysterious warning, she twisted away.
Then Micah’s attention—and blade—were on him again. But this time, he
held back, just pointing the tip at Asa’s chest. “Let’s get something straight—
of the three women in the nursery, two are untouchable. The one called Eden
belongs to Elyon. If you touch her, expect to die by his hand in a way more
painful than anything you can imagine.”
“Understood.” But Asa’s eyes went wide. Did Micah expect him to seduce
the women in the nursery? Or worse, get them with child? Was that what
comprised nursery duty? “And the other?”
Micah’s eyes gained back some of the fire from before. “Ren belongs to
me. You so much as drool in her direction, and I will remove your head.”
“Of course.” Asa had to fight to suppress his smile. This was it—this was
Asa’s vulnerability. He’d fallen for a human, and with the storied brutality of
Elyon’s Regiment, love wasn’t something that could be easily sustained. If
Elyon even knew, it might be dangerous.
“The third one has been discarded,” Micah said. “You can do with her as
you wish.”
Do as he wished? Asa worked hard to keep the disgust off his face. He
struggled for the right response, but Micah had already shoved past him to
reach the door. He threw it open and strode in. Asa hurried to follow, quickly
taking in the room. It was vast, and there was a raucous fight happening at the
far end. His hand automatically went to his blade, but he kept it sheathed as
he realized… they were just young ones. Angeling children, by their small
black wings and light angelsong cries.
It was like the training rooms of his youth, growing up in Etheral’s
Dominion—a sudden and unexpected pang in his heart for the lost innocence
of his youth hit him hard. He stumbled to a stop and stared. That legion of
bright souls was lost to him when he went on walkabout and became one of
the Fallen. He never knew what happened to them—Sarif and Elirael, Zifair
and Tarip. They were his friends. His family. Had they survived their
walkabout with their glowing white wings intact? Did they return to make
their vows to the light angel of their choice? He didn’t know. But these
children in the nursery weren’t engaged in the friendly combat of the cohort
of his youth. These were using rough-hewn knives to draw blood and give
torment—they were in shadow, their innocence stolen as soon as they were
born.
It was the nightmare the light angels had saved him from. And he’d failed
the angels with his Fall, ending up in shadow despite their best efforts to
redeem him. Asa blinked and forced himself out of that painful reverie.
Micah had drawn ahead, already reaching a small cluster of three women,
their human souls shining like the sun. One—a blond who rivaled angelkind
with her beauty—held a baby. The one with the cascading brown hair was
already in Micah’s arms, the angeling’s kiss possessive and for all to see. The
third was striking—red hair like a flame, eyes blazing green, and a lush body
filled with womanly curves.
Micah broke the kiss, and all were staring at Asa as he belatedly
approached.
“Ren is mine,” Micah said, his voice hoarse as he held the brunette tightly
around the waist. As if he had not just warned Asa off the woman he loved—
this was clearly for her to hear.
“Micah, honey—” she started.
Micah cut her off with a look then he pointed to the blond. “Eden belongs
to Elyon.”
The woman’s eyes glazed, and she held the baby closer. Asa couldn’t even
imagine the horrors she’d been subjected to. A sourness etched the back of his
throat.
Then Micah lifted his chin to the redhead, whose eyes were even more on
fire now, staring a terrified hatred at Micah. “Molly is yours if you wish.”
Asa flicked a hard look to him—was this something expected?
But Micah had turned his attention back to the lovely woman in his arms.
“Come with me,” he whispered then hustled her away, heading to the side of
the cavernous room. There was a pair of tents against one wall, and that
seemed their destination.
What in the name of magic?
The blond woman—Eden—bent to pick up a second baby out of her small
crib. The woman’s lips were trembling, and her face pale, but she said
nothing, just drifted away with the children. Holy angels in heaven… surely
she didn’t expect…
He turned to face the redhead, Molly…
And found a blade in his face.
“You touch me, and I cut you,” she said.
He couldn’t help himself—the absurdity of the situation—he laughed.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Eight

H E WAS LAUGHING AT HER .

Molly kept the knife trained on him anyway, willing her hand to stop
shaking. She had no illusions—no way could she stop him. But she sure as
hell could make him pay for it.
His laughter faded, but there was still humor in his eyes. “You know that
won’t hurt me, right?’
“Depends what I cut off.” Asshole.
He huffed a laugh again, but he wasn’t coming any closer. He was big—
broad shoulders, dark hair, sexy-fierce brown eyes dancing like this was all a
fucking joke to him. Even had he been human, she wouldn’t have been able to
fight him off. But he wasn’t human—he was an angeling, even if his wings
were hidden at the moment. He could do whatever he wanted to her—but
she’d draw at least a little blood first. Even if he laughed through it.
His humor finally settled. “I’m not going to touch you, Molly.”
“Damn right, you’re not.” But her heart lurched. Did he mean it? Or was
he toying with her? Getting her to drop her guard? She didn’t lower the
weapon.
His expression grew serious. “You have nothing to fear from me,” he said
more softly. “I would not dishonor myself by forcing myself on a woman.”
Dishonor? What? Was that even a thing here? She squinted at him. “Are
you sure you’re in the right place?”
A small flash of panic crossed his face. Huh? It was gone an instant later,
but she saw it. This guy was hiding something…
 But then his tone was cool as a cucumber. “I’m on loan from another
Regiment,” he said quietly. “There, we don’t force people into sexual acts
against their will.” And he seemed to actually mean that—like it was a point
of pride or something.
She slowly lowered the knife. Maybe she was a fool—maybe she just
wanted this guy to be different from the rest—but there was something off
about him. And he legit wasn’t attacking her, even though they’d been
standing here for like a minute—and he could. Micah—that asshole—had
basically given him permission to “have” her.
But this guy wasn’t taking him up on the offer. “You have a name, Mr.
Honorable?”
A smile slowly grew on his face. “Asa.” And yeah, okay, he was knock-
out gorgeous, like they all were. High carved cheeks that stood out even more
when he smiled. Messy black hair that looked like he ran his hands through it
a lot. Brown eyes shining with some hidden mirth again—eyes like those had
no trouble seducing her the first time.
But she wasn’t the fool she was then.
“Ok, Asa,” she said, carefully. “You keep your hands to yourself, and I
won’t have to cut off your little angeling member.”
He smirked. “It is not so little.”
“Yeah, whatever.” But he was keeping his distance, and she was warming
up to that. You are what you do, her dad always said, and it was true. This guy
was keeping his word, at least for the moment. She tucked the knife Ariel had
fashioned for her into the voluminous pocket of her shapeless gray pants.
Asa’s eyes drifted down to where she was stowing the knife… then his
eyes went wide. He flicked them back up to her face. “You are already with
child.”
“You’re a sharp one.” How was that not obvious the moment he walked in
the door? Had this guy never seen a pregnant lady before?
A dark look crossed his face, and her heart lurched. Really not smart to
insult the angeling you don’t want raping you, Moll. As she was scrambling
for something to say, he beat her to it.
“Was it by force?” he demanded. Like he was personally affronted by the
very idea.
 “That’s kind of a personal question.” But her gut was clenched again. So
what if she was seduced the first time? Would that mean this guy would think
she was fair game?
He closed his eyes briefly like he was in pain. It zapped her right in the
heart, catching her off guard—like in that moment, he was frozen in amber, a
terrible wound written on his face that could never be erased. When he
opened his eyes again, it was gone.
“You’re right,” he said. “It was a foolish question.” Then he rubbed his
hand across his face as if trying to physically wipe away the pain.
“You okay?” She didn’t know what was going on with this guy, but he
was still not raping her, and that had to count for something. And there was a
lot going on under the surface with this one.
He peered at her with frank awe. “You’re no longer afraid of me.”
“Should I be?” she scowled. What kind of thing was that to say?
“No.” Then he stepped closer to her, peering deeply into her eyes. There
was a strange sort of power emanating his towering physical presence, but she
wasn’t afraid.
“Um… okay.” She really should back up, get him out of her personal
space. But she didn’t. Even though her breath was stumbling a little on its
way into her body.
“You are… radiant, Molly.” His voice was soft, his eyes roaming her face
and hair.
She wasn’t beautiful or radiant or whatever—she’d been held prisoner for
months, her hair was a mess, she was pregnant, and even before that, no one
ever called her skinny. Yet, somehow she felt radiant under this angeling’s
intense gaze. He wasn’t undressing her with his eyes—it was like he was
trying to soak her in, basking in her presence. Which was crazy.
Or maybe he was just trying to seduce her after all.
“Um… okay, look…” But she really didn’t have any words.
He frowned. “It’s not just the baby, either.” God, was he going to go on
with this? “Although your little one shines like a bright new soul should.”
“Wait, what? You can see that?” The shine—that must be what Ariel had
been seeing.
He gave her a perplexed look. “Of course. Although it’s difficult to see
with you and your shining Virtues alongside.”
Her face heated. What was this all about? “If you’re just saying that to get
in my pants…”
He leaned back, breaking the close, intense moment, and barked out a
laugh.
“Okay, that wasn’t supposed to be funny.” She was suddenly cross and
couldn’t begin to explain why. This guy… he was confusing as hell.
He tempered his smile. “I cannot tell you how little I’ve laughed in the
last ten years.” He acted like this was a gift she had just given him.
“Well, hey, glad I could amuse you.” She scowled at him and crossed her
arms over her chest.
His humor tempered again. “You are right. Nothing here is funny.” His
gaze swept the nursery—he was right about that.
Then sounds from the tent grabbed both their attention. Holy shit, Micah
must have magic lovemaking skills. He was a complete asshole to Ren, and
just when Molly was convinced Ren would call him on it, he hauls her off to
that damn tent and gives her a few more orgasms. If steam could actually
come out of someone’s ears, Molly’s would be chuffing like a freight train.
Ren’s Oh, God, Yes! chorus started up.
Asa scowled. “Do they do this often?”
“Does the sun rise in the east?”
He looked at her quizzically.
“That’s a yes, Angeling Dude.”
He looked like he was fighting a smile again. It warmed her heart to see it.
So he hadn’t laughed in ten years? Her dad always said she could brighten the
darkest room. She figured that was just a Dad thing, but with this Asa guy…
it was like he really needed it. Even if he was part of the Evil Seduction
Empire of angelings, he wasn’t one of the bad guys. And brightening his day
was having the curious effect of making hers moderately tolerable.
Ren’s cries went up another notch. The tent was shaking like an
earthquake had hit.
“Can we…” Asa gestured for them to move away from the action.
Molly shrugged. “Won’t help much, but sure.” She glanced at the area
near the front door to where Eden had retreated. She’d turned her back on
Molly and Ren both, but Molly couldn’t blame her—she’d probably have
flashbacks if she had to watch Molly get attacked. Even Ren’s visits from
Micah had a chilling effect on Eden—she had to leave the babies and be alone
for a while afterward. Molly made a mental note to check on her as soon as
she could get rid of this Asa person.
They got as far away from the tent as they could without slipping into the
kids’ territory. They were winding down from some epic melee thing again.
Molly did a quick scan for Ariel, but she couldn’t find her in the chaos.
“It’s clear,” Asa said quietly, keeping his voice low, “that Micah is very…
possessive of your friend, Ren.”
“You noticed that, huh?” She shouldn’t give him a hard time, but he was
part of this whole operation.
“Does she have love of him?”
That was a really odd way of saying it. “Why do you want to know?”
He grimaced and glanced back at Eden. Which touched Molly’s heart a
little—he hadn’t forgotten her. He turned back to face Molly. “I can’t imagine
Eden wishes to be here. Or you.”
“Well, you got that right.” But she squinted at him. What was he up to?
“But I’m uncertain about Ren and her…” He paused, and Ren’s whimpers
flitted across the room to them. “Attachment,” he said finally.
“Why does it matter to you?” She had a creeping feeling up her back.
“I told you—I’m on loan from another Regiment. And I’ve been assigned
the duty to guard this place.”
Molly’s eyes went wide. Was he saying… “I can’t speak for Ren.” Which
wasn’t true—she would drag Ren out of here because she really needed to get
clear of Micah, but they couldn’t have that getting back to Micah. Not until
they were free. “But Eden and I would leave in a heartbeat if we could.”
Asa frowned. That wasn’t the answer he wanted.
“What are you getting at?” Molly pressed. Ariel said she would get them
out—tomorrow. And that was totally the plan. But having a backup plan in
case things didn’t work out with Ariel was just plain smart. Unless the backup
back-fired. She knew nothing about Asa.
“I want to help you, Molly…” He faded off, his face suddenly soft. His
gaze dropped to her belly and lingered there. She could swear he was tearing
up.
What the hell was going on with this guy?
“No,” he said to her belly. She had no idea what that meant. Then he
looked her straight into the eyes. “No, I will help you. You have my vow on
that.”
Her mouth worked, but she had no words. Did he mean it? She’d never
seen someone so intensely certain about something. Wait… no, she had. It
was the look on Ariel’s face before they cut their palms and smeared blood
together.
“We’re not going to do a blood oath, are we?” she quipped, just to take the
intensity down a notch. How much could she trust an angeling she just met?
The answer to that should be zero.
“What?” He blinked.
“Just kidding.” She gave him a weak smile.
“I am not kidding, Molly.” And he wasn’t—there was a steely
determination in his eyes. “No matter what, I will come for you. I will help
you. And Eden. But you must keep that secret while I…” He glanced at the
tent again. The shaking had subsided. They must have finished Round One.
With Micah’s stamina, they had at least three more rounds to go. “While I sort
out the situation with those two.”
“You’re not going to hurt Ren.” It was a statement. Or a question. Maybe
a demand… but she wanted an answer. She felt Asa wouldn’t lie about that.
She wasn’t sure why.
He scowled. “Of course not.”
“She didn’t ask for this,” Molly said. “None of us did. Not like this.”
He nodded, and she felt he understood. Like truly understood.
“Okay, good.” She swallowed. “And I’ll take that Get Out of Jail card
you’re offering, but… I don’t really have anything I can trade.” She didn’t
want him thinking she would trade sex for her freedom. Although, when it
came right down to it… she might. He seemed decent, and if he helped them
escape… well, that definitely put him in the Good Guy category. And of
course, he was smokin’ hot. There was that.
“My reward will be knowing you and your babies will be free of Elyon.”
And the way he spat out the name, there was definitely more story to that.
 With a cool spread of insight, she realized: Asa is a spy. He was here for
some reason, and it wasn’t what everyone thought, whatever that was.
Maybe, just maybe… he would break them out. Definitely backup plan
material.
“You know what?” she said. “I take back all the bad things I said about
you.”
“You’ve said bad things?” A smile quirked at his lips.
She shrugged. “Well, I did threaten you with a knife.”
He grinned. “So you did.”
Then she got serious. “If you get us out of here, Asa, I promise not to cut
your throat.”
“A rich reward indeed.” His smile was breathtaking. Like, it was literally
stealing the breath out of her mouth.
“See?” she struggled to say. “I can be reasonable.”
His smile was turning into a smirk, and that smirk was doing dangerous
things to her insides. You will not sleep with him, Moll! She wasn’t sure why
she felt the need to shout at herself. Obviously, that wasn’t happening.
She was saved from further turmoil by Micah tearing out of the tent. The
flap of the door swung in his wake, but no Ren appeared. Which was strange
—they almost always came out together. Micah beckoned Asa from across
the room. Also strange. But then again, Micah had never brought one of the
guards inside for an “introduction” before. Was it just because Asa was new?
Did everyone else already get the memo on who “belonged” to who?
Asa quickly said, “I’ll return, Molly. I promise.” And then he spread his
wings and lifted up, soaring across the expanse of the room to meet Micah by
the door.
Asa was beautiful and majestic and hot as Sin, but that little display with
the midnight wings? Just an excellent reminder that this was hell, and she
should take whatever chance she had to get free.
And she should stay away from hot men who weren’t men at all.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Nine

A SA COULD SEE WHY THIS WAS CONSIDERED “ PUNISHMENT DUTY .”

He’d been sitting in front of the door to the nursery for hours and hours.
Sitting, standing, flying up and down the hall, literally climbing the walls then
back down again… all to relieve the terminal boredom of guarding a place
that hardly needed it. Micah had given him strict instructions to stay until
relieved and then left in a huff before Asa could broach the subject of
rescuing the women. Did Micah even want that? Or did he just come around
to fuck the woman he loved until… what? The baby was born?
Asa had no idea.
So he spent the long hours piecing together how Elyon’s breeding
program must work. The women were impregnated and brought here—
perhaps the original seduction was a voluntary thing, perhaps not. But
certainly being locked in an otherworldly cage was not. The women were kept
in seclusion until the babies were born… but then what? It didn’t escape his
notice that the children of the nursery were in cohorts, just like in the
Dominions of the light angels. He knew all too well how that happened—the
babies were taken from their mothers at birth, whisked away in an act of
thievery so vile the only excuse for it was the mothers and babies were safer
when separated. Because the shadow realm came to claim the children they
produced, without fail. He knew that when he discovered Ellie had been
attacked and impregnated by a shadow angeling. He’d vowed to protect her,
and he was ready when they’d returned in force—more of Elyon’s Regiment
—to claim the woman and the child. He’d fought them and won… only for
her life to be taken by her own hand, driven to despair by the horror of what
she carried in her womb. He’d tried to tell her—the baby’s soul was bright
and shining and pure, just like hers—but she didn’t believe him, not truly. The
cruel act that produced the child had broken her… much as it broke him, in
the end.
A familiar rage surged up at the thought—his ever-present Wrath—but he
was well-practiced in containing it. Saving it for the next time he would slay
some shadowkind. He would bide his time and make Elyon pay for all his
crimes.
The purgatory of waiting outside the nursery stretched on.
If Elyon’s forces had claimed Ellie and the child, she would have ended
up behind him in the very room he was protecting. That was the simple reason
he vowed to free Molly, and the other mothers besides. To do less was to
condemn them to death, he was sure—for the shadow realm had no use for
the tender love of mothers beyond the care of the youngest of babies. The
children would be raised in a brutal cohort, a preparation that no doubt made
them well adapted for a life in the shadow realm—and possibly a short life as
fodder in Elyon’s war.
The only question lay in the fate of Micah’s beloved—Ren. Did he think
he could defy his father and keep her? Was he that delusional? Or did he truly
not love the woman, merely feeling that possessive spirit which was a pale
reflection of a Love that was True? Asa had known that kind of love—the
kind that lifted the heart and soul to heights he hadn’t known could exist as a
mere angeling raised without a mother’s love. He’d only had that True Love
with Ellie a short time before she took her life, but Love was timeless that
way. A single moment was enough to know the Truth of it.
Or to shatter one’s soul when it was gone.
Hours passed, and no one came to relieve him. It had been at least a day
now.
He was sure of only one thing—that Micah eventually return to visit Ren.
Molly said they fucked often. So he kept vigil and spent his hours of duty
trying to discern the depth and Truth of Micah’s love. But his thoughts kept
wandering to the luscious and spirited Molly, just behind the door yet
completely out of reach. He’d been given leave to “do as he pleased” with her
—in theory, that meant he could go into the nursery to visit—but he didn’t
want to be caught inside when Micah returned. It might be his only chance to
talk to him alone.
Still, his thoughts dawdled on the lovely form of the red-haired beauty
inside.
She was a study in contrasts. Her body and face were soft with curves that
reminded him he was half human and 100% male. Her eyes were hard
hammers of judgment then gentle as the softest rain. Her lips… he’d spent
entirely too much time considering just how a woman whose hair was fiery
had lips so delicate and yet full, like tiny pink pillows he might rest upon. Or
perhaps that was her bosom. Or the other soft-fleshed spots he might visit
with his lips. That she was carrying a new, shining life inside her meant she
was in the full flower of her womanhood—a flower he wanted to inhale and
taste and possess…
Such thoughts… he hadn’t had their like in more years than he could
count.
Not since Ellie.
That thought struck terror in his heart. Because Molly was in mortal
danger just as thoroughly as Ellie had been, and he had failed utterly to
protect her. These soft feelings rousing within him… their resurrection was a
small miracle, but did they just portend another kind of dark Fall? Would he
survive losing another beautiful soul? The answer there was clear—no. He’d
barely survived the first time. Losing his heart again was more terrifying than
any painful death Elyon could conjure.
Elyon could only destroy his body. Rip apart his mind.
Molly could annihilate his soul.
Not that she would ever intend such a thing—the light of her Virtues was
blinding. That was the danger. He may be in shadow, but he’d never stopped
loving humanity the way only an angeling of the light could. The summer
queen had been right on that count—he was still, even in shadow, driven by
love. All his Wrath came from the loss of it.
Asa stood and shook those thoughts from his head. Then he paced more,
chasing the inner demons away with the pumping of his immortal blood
through his veins. He needed to be alert, ready at a moment’s notice—
 Micah appeared in the hallway, a few paces from the door.
Asa hurried back to his post. “Micah, I wanted to—” He stopped when he
realized the state of things. Micah had to be fresh from battle or… something.
“What happened?”
Micah braced a hand against the wall by the door. “Summer Court. On the
streets.”
Nyssa’s reinforcements. Asa swallowed. Micah was clad in black body
armor which masked much of the blood, but a head wound was gushing pretty
strongly. “Are you all right?”
Micah pushed away from the wall. “I’ll survive.” Then he teetered in a
way that was alarming even to Micah, as evidenced by his widened eyes and
grasping at the wall again.
Asa snatched up the chair he’d spent ridiculous numbers of hours slumped
uncomfortably in and brought it Micah.
“Don’t need it,” He shoved it away. “Just going in to see Ren.”
Angels of light. “Don’t be a fool.” He slung the chair forward and clamped
a hand on Micah’s shoulder to force him into it. Micah pushed away his hand,
but the motion unbalanced him, and he ended up in the chair anyway just to
keep from tumbling to the floor.
“You’re a mess,” Asa said, speaking the obvious.
Micah waved him off. “I’ll be fine. A visit with Ren will restore me.” He
tried to rise from the chair, but it moved and unbalanced him again. He sat
back roughly and closed his eyes. “In a moment.”
“No woman wants to see the man she loves in this state,” Asa said,
carefully watching Micah’s response.
His eyes popped open, just as Asa had hoped. “Have you spoken to her?”
he demanded.
Asa put up his hands. “I have ears.” He smirked. “She at least enjoys your
attentions.”
Micah blinked at him—his mind must be addled with pain for how long
he took to understand. When he did, he closed his eyes and leaned back.
“That is just fucking.”
“Sure. For you.” He tossed that challenge out and counted the seconds it
took for Micah to pick it up.
 When he did—when he lifted his head—his glare was made of fire. “You
know nothing.”
“I know what it is to love a woman with child.” There was simple Truth in
that, and Micah had to hear it.
He sat a little straighter. “How do the mothers fare in Zuriel’s Regiment?”
In Truth, he had no idea. But he didn’t hesitate to make the key promise.
“Better than they fare here.”
Micah’s dropped gaze, his anguished expression, told Asa all he needed to
know. He could explain later the particulars—that he would give the women
safe haven in Razael’s Regiment; that Micah needed to help end the war,
which meant betraying his father, so all could live in relative peace again—
but now Asa would make the essential pitch, the thing all depended on.
“I see how you look at her, Micah.” Asa kept his voice soft, gentle. “You
cannot believe she will survive this.”
Micah shook his head, but Asa couldn’t tell if that was an answer or not.
“Let me help you,” Asa said.
Micah looked up sharply. “Who are you?”
Asa grimaced. The Truth would out eventually, but how much to tell now?
“I didn’t come here to fight Elyon’s war. I came here seeking you, Micah. To
end it.”
Alarm lit his face, and Micah struggled to stand. He reached for his angel
blade, but it must have been lost in the battle because the sheath at his side
was empty.
Fucking angelings born in shadow—forever suspicious, never trusting,
burned by everyone and everything. Those who had Fallen likewise lived in a
constant state of threat, but those who grew up in it were more deeply
marked. He could see it because he hadn’t been raised that way. The light
angels had at least given him some measure of security as a child.
Micah looked to be judging how best to fight him.
“I can save Ren,” Asa said, hands out, clearly not going for his own blade.
“I know you love her, Micah. The only question is… do you love her enough
to let her go?”
Micah’s grimace said he’d thought this through already. Every
excruciating detail. For he had to know her fate in his father’s Regiment with
brutal clarity.
“I was waiting for… waiting until…” But he was laboring to breathe,
bracing against the wall again.
“Waiting for what? The birth?” Asa guessed. “Then secret her away?”
Micah’s guilty expression said Asa was dead on. But how could the man
not see the folly of that? “You would take her child from her, give it over to
this…” He gestured roughly to the door of the nursery. “… and expect her to
still welcome you in her bed? Are you mad?”
“There is no other way!” Micah slammed a fist against the wall and the
black crystal hummed as if a tuning fork had been struck.
Asa glanced around, hoping that wouldn’t bring others bearing down on
them. “Maybe before. But now I am offering you another way.”
Micah squinted at him—in judgment or pain, Asa couldn’t be sure.
“Why? What is this to you? Why would you risk a dark angel’s Wrath to help
me?”
“I’m not doing it for you.” A sudden fury welled up in him, pushed by
pain and longing for things that could never be. He jabbed a finger at the door.
“I’m doing it for them. All of them. I’m taking them out of here, Micah.
Because this is an abomination, and you know it.”
Micah gaped at him. “He will hunt them down.” He shook his head in
small, fast movements. Asa had never seen a grown man so terrified. “You
don’t know him like I do—”
“I don’t have to,” Asa spat back. “I know full well what he’s capable of.”
Micah’s eyes grew wide. “You’re not from Zuriel’s Regiment, are you?”
The Truth, then. All right. “No. But I can guarantee them full protection
under Razael.”
Micah’s eyes closed, and he dropped his head against the wall. “You’re a
spy. A spy… and you want me to turn over the woman I love.” He opened his
eyes and glared at Asa. “What kind of fool do you think I am?”
“One who knows the only real escape when he sees it.” Asa shook his
head. “I didn’t come here to save women and children, Micah. I came here to
turn you against your father. To gain your trust. To convince you to end the
madness of this war before your father brings the fury of the Warrior Angels
down on all our heads. And here I find you clinging like a child to the one
beautiful thing in your father’s hellhole of a Regiment.” He couldn’t help the
bitterness and anger in his voice. “You don’t have to be an angeling of the
light to know the difference between right and wrong. To do what’s right for
the woman you love. And your child…” Asa’s fists clenched. “If it were me,
there would be no force in the immortal realms that could stop me from
giving that child a chance at the light. None save death itself.”
Micah’s eyes had gone wide, his face slack, and holy angels of light, Asa
had punched far below the belt with that tirade. But every word was Truth.
And Micah had to know it.
“You can save them both?” he whispered.
“I swear on my life.”
Micah nodded—hesitating and weary, but it was a yes. “How?”
The relief was a wash of joy that nearly lifted him off his feet. “Let me
work that out.” Asa grimaced at Micah’s wounds. “And you need your
strength for this. Go rest. Recover. Gain a life kiss or three. You’re the son of
the angel—make it happen. By the time you’re restored, I will have a plan.
We’ll execute it together, so you’ll know every detail. You’ll be assured of
their safety. And you’ll…you’ll be able to say goodbye.”
Micah nodded, and the yes was more definite now. Then he straightened
up from his bracing against the wall, twisted, and disappeared from the
hallway.
Asa rubbed his face with both hands and blew out a breath filled with the
tension he’d been holding. Holy magic… this was happening. He would make
it happen.
He just had to pray Micah would follow through.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Ten

T HE WAIT FOR DINNER WAS ETERNAL .

Not that Molly was hungry, although she would eat every last scrap—she
and the baby needed their energy for the night ahead. Ariel had gotten the
secret of “travel” from Devon, and she was ready to go, but they mutually
decided that after dinner was the best time to leave. The stretch between
dinner and breakfast was longest and least likely to be interrupted—least
likely for them to be discovered missing.
Molly just prayed this would work.
When dinner finally came, she nearly had a heart attack. Her hot backup
plan—Asa—personally delivered it, unlike the previous meals he quickly
shoved through the doorway. He kept looking at her during the whole, brief
doling out of trays and wrapped ham and cheese sandwiches, but he said
nothing. She had ten things on the tip of her tongue ready to blurt out, but
they all boiled down to one—are you rescuing us?
The answer to that was clearly no when he closed the door again without a
word.
Dammit. The disappointment was a deep hollow in her chest. Not that
they had no way out—it was that Asa wouldn’t be a part of that plan. Which,
if she was honest with herself, was definitely for the best. Sexy bedroom-eyed
angelings were how she got into this mess.
Molly forced herself to eat and finished before the others. “Okay,” she
said to Ariel around her last bite. The angeling girl hovered over them as they
scarfed down their sandwiches and milk. “Let’s go over this one more time.”
 Ariel frowned. “It is not that complex.”
“Just to be sure.” Molly didn’t want to rile their ticket out. Plus Ariel was
part of The Sisterhood now. They’d made a vow and everything. “Ren and
Eden are carrying the babies. I’m holding hands with Eden, Ren’s holding her
arm, and you’re holding onto me. As long as everyone’s connected, we’ll all
come through the traveling together.”
“That is correct.” But there was a trace of worry on her forehead.
“What?” Molly demanded.
“Devon says it will work,” she said more definitively.
“I know you haven’t tested it out yet,” Molly said, trying to soothe
everyone’s nerves, including her own. “But we’ve got all night to make this
happen. If someone gets left behind…” She threw a hopefully reassuring
glance at Eden and Ren. “…then we’ll come back for them. Worst comes to
worse, Ariel has to ferry each of us out one at a time. But that won’t be a
problem, right?”
“It should be easily done.” Somehow Ariel’s voice wasn’t as confident as
her words.
But Eden and Ren both nodded.
Eden was looking better—she’d rallied as soon as Molly explained they
were making their escape tonight. Then Eden had let the babies occupy her
attention like she usually did. Babies were good for that—they’d take all the
attention you could shower on them.
But Ren was in a state.
Her eyes were totally bloodshot. She’d pretended not to be sobbing into
her pillow, as if that fooled anyone. Micah had really done a number on her
this time—all he wanted was to fuck, and when Ren tried to talk to him again
about leaving before the baby came, he’d stormed out in a huff. Asshole. And
while Molly hated to see Ren broken-hearted, it was probably for the best—
this way she wouldn’t be tempted to stay. But it still sucked to have a fight be
the last conversation you had with the father of your baby.
Molly sighed. There was nothing to be done about it now. “You ready?”
she asked Ren and Eden, but mostly Ren.
“Yes.” Eden was expertly balancing little Eva on her hip. She reached her
hand to Molly, and she grabbed hold.
 Ren sniffed. Her hands were full with Ralphie cradled to her chest and her
other hand holding onto Eden’s shoulder. “Yeah. Let’s go,” she said softly.
Molly turned to Ariel and extended her hand. “We’re ready.”
Ariel slipped her hand into Molly’s then peered into her eyes. “Tell me
again what the ocean looks like.”
Molly frowned. “I thought maybe we’d go to my apartment first.”
“I have to envision it,” Ariel insisted. “I can sense your longing for the
mortal realm, but I’ve never been there. I need… a magical signature.
Something to guide me.”
Molly’s stomach clenched. “That story wasn’t real, Ariel.” Good God,
please don’t let this go sideways now, she prayed.
“I know. I am not a child.” Ariel scowled.
But she was—just a girl. And she held their fate in her hands.
Molly bit her lip. “So you want me to…” She was lost, clawing her way
through a surge of panic.
“Describe the ocean,” Ariel said very seriously. “In as much detail as you
can. The magic of the human realm will guide me.”
Holy shit, this was not going to work. Molly swallowed and tried to shove
the panic away. “The ocean is big. So vast that it reaches out into the distance
and touches the sky. Light scatters on the ripples and waves that the wind
makes, small peaks that come in to the shore. But the shore is really a pier
where the boats pull in.” She closed her eyes to imagine it better. It was Pier
52, the Bainbridge Island Ferry—she had visited it often, sometimes just to
hang out on the dock, sometimes to take the ride out to the islands. “The ferry
boat is three stories tall, and it sounds a horn as it pulls into the dock. The cars
and passengers are waiting to disembark. The smell of saltwater spray hangs
in the air. A seagull soars overhead, looking for snacks dropped by the
passengers from the last ride out. The water sloshes against the tall wooden
pilings that hold up the dock. You can hear the ocean lapping at the manmade
shore, gently tapping, reminding it that the water is deep and strong and
cold… and it’s always been there, but the humans have not.” She was so lost
in her description, her stomach cramping up in a desperate wish for it to be
real, that it suddenly seemed real. She could smell the salt, feel the sun against
her cheek, hear the creaking of the pilings.
 Ariel gasped next to her and dropped her hand.
Oh no.
But when Molly opened her eyes… they were there.
“You did it,” Molly breathed.
Ariel stood as still as a statue, mouth hanging open, staring at the
enormous ferry docked in front.
“You did it!” Molly repeated and threw her arms around the angeling girl,
hugging her hard. Tears were blurring her vision, and she just wanted to
screech out her unbelievable joy, but they were already making a scene. They
were up high—perched on a pedestrian bridge between where the cars lined
up for the ferry and the shops on the dock—and they were alone for the
moment, but lots of people milled below.
Molly released Ariel and wiped her eyes. Eden and Ren were there,
holding the babies and each other. They’d done it!
Then a brush of black feathers against her arm almost made her shriek.
But it was just Ariel, flexing her wings, still staring in astonishment all around
her.
“Ariel!” Molly hissed. “Your wings!”
The girl gave her a look like she was crazed, then her attention snapped to
the sounds of a child below the bridge. He was pointing up at them. Ariel
quickly furled her wings in—they melted into her back like the magic they
were, but she still stood out in her black toga and bare feet. They all must
look like escapees from a mental ward with their matching, loose gray pants
and shirts.
“Everyone okay?” Molly asked, running a quick look over them all.
Ralphie had slept through the whole thing, but the sunlight was waking up
Eva.
Ren shaded her eyes. “How is it suddenly morning?”
Molly shook her head. “I don’t know.” But it was—the sun was still low,
barely risen over the towers of downtown Seattle, and shadows were long
across the water and the ferry.
“It doesn’t matter,” Eden breathed, a smile on her face brighter than any
Molly had ever seen. “We’re home.”
Molly bit her lip. There was a crowd gathering underneath them, ferry
passengers staring up. “Not quite yet.” She gripped Ariel by the shoulder. The
girl was mesmerized by a seagull perched on one of the pilings. “Ariel!” Her
attention snapped to Molly. “We can’t stay here, and I don’t have any money
for an uber.”
“What is money?” Ariel asked. “And an uber?”
Oh boy. “Look, this will all be better if you can just take us to my
apartment, okay?” She had no phone or keys or literally anything but an
angeling-crafted knife made of utensils in her pocket. And she was out of a
job, too, which was a whole different problem. But she could make
everything work. She had to. “I just need to get back to my home.”
“I think…” Ariel’s eyes just kept getting bigger. “I think I can find your
home.” The skyscrapers. The dock smells. The honking horns of traffic
carrying across the pavement from downtown. Ariel was looking more and
more freaked out.
“Just close your eyes,” Molly said, “and listen to my voice.”
Ariel nodded rapidly and squeezed her eyes shut. Molly grabbed her hand
and motioned for the others to take hold again. Then she started describing
her apartment. It wasn’t much—just a one bedroom in a downtown tower—
but it had pieces of her in it. A picture of her parents and her as a kid. One sad
houseplant she’d nursed through the winter—now it had to be dead. Did she
even have any money left? Her rent was on autopay… Four months she’d
been in hell. And now a dark angeling girl child was bringing her home. Tears
sprung to Molly’s eyes as she kept describing her place. The dingy carpet that
needed to be replaced. The two hooks by the door that held her keys. The
super plush maroon towels that she’d bought with her first paycheck at the
law firm—her first present to herself as a real, legit adult. The tiny, glass
kitchen table meant for a couple, but was barely big enough for her—
Molly’s eyes were open this time when they moved.
One instant, they were on the dock; the next, they were standing in her
apartment. The time between wrenched her stomach just a little, but most
jarring was just suddenly being somewhere else.
All the air whooshed out of her in relief.
Everyone made it, and this time, there were smiles all around. Both babies
were awake now and fussing, but Eden and Ren were all grins. Even Ariel
seemed relieved, her shoulders not so hunched up.
“This is your home?” she asked, tentative.
“Yes!” Molly beamed. “You did it.”
A small smile lit Ariel’s face, and she immediately set about exploring,
captured by the reflective black face of Molly’s TV mounted on the wall. Her
place wasn’t huge—it would be small for three women, two babies, and a teen
angeling—but Ariel was inspecting every cranny.
Molly was caught off guard by a sideways hug from Eden. She still held
Eva on her hip, and the baby was settling as Eden rocked her. “You did this,”
Eden said.
Ren stepped up to them, bouncing Ralphie. “The question is—what do we
do now?” She tipped her head toward Ariel, who had picked up a small cat
figurine from the collection next to the TV and was turning it around and
around, amazed.
What would they do about Ariel? Or any of them, really?
She was out of a job, pregnant, with two more expectant moms and two
babies to look after… but at least they fit in the human world. Ariel needed
little in the way of food, but how would a girl with magical black wings and
keen skills with a blade even exist in the real world?
“We’ll figure it out,” Molly said, trying to sound confident. “All I know is
we’re sticking together, okay? We’re The Sisterhood. And Ariel’s part of it.”
The girl had moved on to poking at the TV screen like she thought it was a
black pool hung on the wall.
“Well, we need a better name than that,” Ren complained, but it was with
a broad smile.
“We don’t need a name; we’re family.” Eden’s smile was almost as big.
Family. Molly’s throat was suddenly occupied by a lump that seemed too
big to fit there. She cleared it with a cough. “That’s right. We’re sisters. And
family sticks together.”
Eden’s smile mellowed a little. “Might be rough when we have the babies
all at the same time. But afterward… well, I’ve been watching babies since I
was ten. All I’ve ever wanted was…” Her eyes glassed with tears, and she
swept a gaze across all their bellies, plus the two little ones they were holding.
Five babies. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Molly’s mind went sideways with
that.
“…a big family,” Eden finished.
“Well, we’ll definitely have that!” Ren grinned. “Even without the hot
men.” Her smile faltered a little, but then she brightened again. “I’m sure I’ve
totally lost my job at the hospital, being gone for four months. But there’s
always a shortage of nurses. I’m sure I can get something else. The only
problem is…” She glanced around at Molly’s apartment—it wasn’t much, but
it was downtown, where the rents were high. She could only afford it on her
big corporate salary as an accountant at the law firm. “It might not be enough
to support all of us.”
“I can get something, too,” Molly said quickly. She hoped. “I mean,
maybe I could even get some accounting work from home. Or something.”
She sucked in a breath. “We’ll make it work.”
Then they all looked at Ariel at once. She had moved to the window,
parted the vertical slats, and was peering out. Molly had an impressive view
of the dumpsters for the apartment building next door, but Ariel was staring
with her mouth hanging open at all the wonders of the human world in the full
glory of the morning sun.
“We’ll make it work,” Molly repeated with a pointed look for their
adopted angeling sister. Because if they couldn’t make it work for Ariel, what
in the world would they do with their own babies?
Eden and Ren nodded their agreement.
Now that Molly thought about it, having Ariel around to help them
navigate the insanity of raising baby angelings in a human world was crazy
Good Luck.
Good Luck. The kind she’d never had before.
Maybe this was the beginning of something amazing. “In the meantime,”
Molly said, clasping her hands together. Gah! They were back in the real
world! It was almost like a dream. “I know this place that delivers the most
amazing Chinese food.”
Ren’s mouth fell open. “Oh my God. I think I might kill for that.”
Eden laughed, a short chirping sound that Molly hadn’t heard in the entire
time she’d known the woman.
“I’m on it.” And Molly hustled into her micro-small kitchen, looking for
the order form and that spare hundred dollars she had stashed away for
emergencies. Thank God she still had a regular landline in her apartment, left
over from the previous tenant. She’d have to get more cash, a real phone,
groceries, diapers… and holy crap, what kind of formula do you feed to baby
angelings?
Breathe, Molly scolded herself. One step at a time. You’ll figure this out.
She set to work.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Eleven

M ICAH LOOKED DEATH WAS NO LONGER WHISPERING IN HIS EAR .

“You ready for this?” Asa would take the women out of this place
regardless, but he wanted Micah fully on board, or this would not go well.
Plus, Asa was still trying to stick to the original mission, no matter how much
this had gone sideways—namely, convincing Micah to turn on his father. If
Asa secured Micah’s lover and child, if he could guarantee them safety, then
Micah should be free to do what was right—for everyone.
They stood outside the nursery, a rack of breakfast trays stacked next to
the door. Micah’s battle armor was freshly conjured sans the blood from the
fight before, and whatever wounds he had sustained were no longer apparent.
“I need time to… explain myself,” Micah said, roughly.
Asa gave him a pinched look. “You’ll have time to say goodbye once
we’re in the human world.”
“It’s not just goodbye.” Micah dropped his gaze. Asa could see the tension
in his jaw working. “We had a… disagreement… the last time.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. “Don’t tell me Ren’s going to fight us on leaving.”
Asa knew the gorgeous redhead—Molly—was the leader. She could convince
the others to go, no matter what lover-spat Micah and Ren were having.
Micah looked up. “No, I’m sure she’ll want to leave. That was the cause
of our fight. But I’m also certain she’s still angry with me.”
“She’ll get over it.” Asa grabbed the pushcart of breakfast trays and
nodded to the door for Micah to open it. “We’ll feed them first. You can have
a moment during breakfast to explain how you were an asshole before but
you’re fixing it now.”
“By leaving her.” Micah’s brown eyes flashed, and Asa knew this was a
tripwire.
“By saving her. And her baby, Micah. Your baby.” He sighed. “See it from
her point of view for one fucking minute, okay?”
“I am trying!”
Well, you suck at it. Asa kept that inside. “I know you don’t want to lose
her. I get it, okay? I really do. I’d slay a hundred shadowlings to protect the
woman I love. But you can’t slay an angel. Not alone. And you don’t want
that battle coming down on Elyon’s Regiment while Ren and the baby are still
here. We can keep them safe; you’re outnumbered a thousand-to-one here, not
including a very pissed off angel.” He couldn’t believe he had to talk Micah
into this again—it seemed obvious to Asa that anywhere was safer for the
women than here, but he had the advantage of having lived through this
particular nightmare already. Losing Ellie, thinking he could protect her all by
himself, entertaining a fool’s fantasy of them having a life together, beyond
the immortal realm, just the two of them and the child he would raise as his
own… Asa gritted his teeth and spoke through them. “This is the only way,
Micah.”
He reluctantly nodded and placed his hand on the door of the nursery, a
forlorn look on his face.
A moment of sympathy spiked through Asa. Had someone told him—
before he lost Ellie—that he had to give her up to keep her safe, would he
have been strong enough to do it? Could he have torn himself away? He was
still of the light then, so maybe. Sacrifice was expected of a light angeling.
But Micah had lived in shadow his entire life. In Truth, Asa was asking
something he wasn’t sure even he could have managed, even in the light.
“Elyon is still involved in the vow orgy,” Micah whispered—not to Asa,
to himself. “Terah is keeping watch. She’ll let me know if he calls for me. It is
the perfect time. It is the only time.” It was almost a mantra.
How often had Micah repeated it, talking himself into this moment? He
waved open the door with magic and stepped through. Asa shoved the cart
inside and followed, closing the door behind him.
Micah took five steps inside the nursery… and stopped. Asa looked up,
scanning the room for the women. They weren’t on their cots. Maybe in the
tent/shower? There was no sound of water. Could they be mingling with the
cohort of children at the far end of the room? That seemed… odd.
“They’re gone.” Micah’s voice was a whisper.
“They can’t be—” But Asa stopped. Because human souls sang to every
angeling, even when they were in shadow, and there definitely weren’t any
humans in the nursery. “Holy shit.” Had Molly somehow engineered an
escape? She was smart and determined as well as lovely. But how? How in
magic had she managed it?
“Elyon took them.” Micah seemed to sway.
“What? Why would he do that?” Asa shoved past the breakfast trays and
grabbed Micah by the shoulders. The man’s eyes were glazing at some
unseeable horror.
“He must know,” Micah choked out. “He must have discovered…” The
horror just grew.
“Discovered what?” Asa shook him and was tempted to smack Micah’s
face just to bring him out of whatever nightmare was swallowing him whole.
Micah’s eyes found Asa’s, but he still seemed only half in the world.
“That I loved her.”
Asa grimaced. “Why would that matter?”
Micah’s mouth worked in a fury but at first made no sound. Then he
shoved Asa away and shouted, “You don’t know him!” He was trembling.
Asa’s eyes went wide, trying to imagine what horrors Elyon was capable
of—it was a darkness in which he didn’t want to dwell.
Micah pressed both fists against his forehead, agony writ on his face.
Then he tried to scrub the expression away… but it was still there. To Asa, he
said, “He gives me no choice but to choose one. To mate. To bring them with
child. Then I’m forbidden… I’m not supposed to visit. To love. It is the
highest betrayal. He’s already destroyed… the others… I tried not to…”
Micah was choking on the words, strangled by them. He couldn’t get out any
more.
But it was enough. Asa understood—or at least he could see why this was
a box of pain for Micah. How his visits—his love—had to remain secret.
Elyon was easily depraved enough to use the women—for fuck’s sake, the
babies—as blunt instruments to destroy any trace of light inside his own son.
And Molly was swept up in that… It hit him like the palace collapsing on
his head. He promised to rescue her, protect her… just like Ellie… No, no, no.
He refused to believe she was lost—not until he saw it with his own eyes.
“Are you sure Elyon took them?” Asa demanded. “You said he’s been
swept up in an orgy…”
Micah’s tortured, vacant expression suddenly sharpened. “Where else
could they be?” he snapped.
Asa had no idea. Then a rumbling sound from the far end of the nursery
captured both their attention. The cohort of angeling children were stomping
their feet in some ritual way. What in all the realms…
“I don’t know.” Asa dropped his grip on Micah and pointed to the young
angelings now taking flight, a vortex of feathers and arms and feet. “But they
do.”
Together, he and Micah took to the air, swooping over the cots and
landing in the midst of the children’s game, whatever it was.
“I am Micah, son of Elyon!” Micah cried at near angelsong level. The
power of it pulsed through the vortex of flying bodies. The children startled,
stopping mid-flight, some dropping to the floor. “Where have the mothers
gone?” he demanded.
Silence. Some were terrified, mostly the younger ones. Even the eldest
ones were still children. A few narrowed their eyes, calculating.
One small one, a girl, finally stepped forth. “Ariel took them.”
“Ariel?” Micah didn’t seem to know who that was.
“She learned to travel from Devon,” the small one said, getting nods from
her cohort-mates. “We all saw her. She took them away.”
What? But Asa’s hopes lifted—maybe Molly had actually escaped.
The blank surprise on Micah’s face had frozen it.
Asa grabbed him by the shoulder. “Is this possible?”
Micah blinked. “The children do not learn how to…” His gaze locked
onto Asa’s. “They’re taught just before vows. Devon must be the one making
them now. It’s possible he could have…” He swept his gaze back to the
cohort. “When did Ariel take them?”
The girl shrugged. “Earlier.”
 Asa added, “It had to be after the last meal. They were here then.”
Hope rushed back to Micah’s face. “Then they’ve made an escape!”
Asa hoped that was actually true. He glanced at the wary but mostly wide-
eyed faces of the children. He couldn’t think of a reason for them to lie about
this. Not to someone as close to Elyon as Micah. Then again, they had
witnessed his lovemaking with Red—maybe they reported that to Elyon.
Still… Asa allowed hope to bloom in his chest.
But there were too many eyes and ears on them at this moment. “We must
go,” he said roughly to Micah.
“But we should—
“Now.” Asa grabbed harder onto his shoulder and twisted, dragging
Micah with him and reappearing outside of the nursery. Micah shoved him
away and stumbled back. The only reason Asa managed to force the travel
was because Micah was caught unaware.
But now that they were alone… “Think, Micah. The cohort belongs to
Elyon. We can’t have them know any more than they already do.”
Micah squinted but quickly nodded. “No, of course, you’re right.”
Asa rubbed the back of his neck. “Ariel—this angeling child—couldn’t
have taken all three women and two babies without their cooperation. That
means they’re in the human world if that’s what happened. Did you have
some destination you promised Ren? Some place she would head to first?”
“Just a… a fantasy I told her.” He was stammering. “A mythical place that
doesn’t exist.”
For the love of magic… what kind of lies had he been telling the woman?
“Well, she obviously felt it better to take her chances without you.” It was
unnecessarily harsh, but he was tired of Micah’s childishness. Plus it rankled
too close to home.
Micah was glowering at him now. “Maybe Ren would return to her
home.” His voice was tight, but he was back on point. “I know where that is.”
“Then let’s go.” Asa stepped closer to clasp a hand on Micah’s shoulder
again. “There’s no time to waste—as soon as your father finds out…”
“He will hunt for them.” Micah gave a sharp nod and twisted, bringing
Asa with him.
The next moment, they were in a small, human apartment. The sun was
setting outside, bathing the walls in blood-red light and black-striped shadows
from the slats of the window. Asa stepped away from Micah, who
immediately called out to Ren, but Asa could already sense the place was
empty. Human souls hummed nearby, above and below and on either side of
the tiny space—but none were Ren and her child. Or Molly—he was sure he
would recognize the shining beacon of her Virtues. Plus there was Eden and
the two babies—such a cluster of bright souls would be immediately obvious.
“Not here,” Micah clipped.
Asa rubbed his temple. “What about Eden’s home?”
Micah shook his head fast. “She belonged to Elyon. No one knows where
he stole her from.”
Stole. But of course, he did. “He’ll come after her.”
Micah’s jaw worked. “I cannot imagine his Wrath at finding her gone. He
has several, one in each of the nurseries, but she was his favorite.”
“Hold one… there are more nurseries?” Asa’s mind boggled for a
moment, but there had to be more. Elyon’s forces grew every day. He couldn’t
sustain that from just one nursery with a couple dozen angelings.
Micah gave him a look of disgust. “Does Razael not keep the mothers of
his children separate?”
“Razael does not have a harem—together or separate,” Asa threw back.
“Because such things are the province of angels like Elyon.”
“He is not the only one with a… harem, as you call it.” Micah rubbed a
hand across his face. “But that matters not. What’s important is finding Ren
and the others before Elyon.”
Asa nodded. “They’re not here, and we don’t know Eden’s home… that
leaves Molly. Do you know where she lived?”
“No, but I know the one who fathered her child.” Micah grimaced.
Somehow that look squeezed tight on Asa’s chest. “I’ll return.”
Before Asa could respond, Micah twisted and disappeared.
Asa stood alone in the small apartment, feeling awkward next to the
human furnishings. He’d spent enough time around humans it wasn’t a
complete surprise to him—the apartment where he’d battled some of Elyon’s
forces, with Razael at his back, using one of the human scientists as bait, was
similar. He’d helped drench the carpet with the blood of shadow angelings
that day, dealing a blow to Elyon that they’d hoped would dissuade him from
the war. But it hadn’t. And when he had an unknown number of nurseries
providing fresh angeling blood to be spilled, all while gaining support from
the Winter Court and the other dark angels, it was a nearly hopeless task to
stop him. The slim hope they had lay in Micah turning on his father, leading
him into a trap. For that, it was imperative they find Ren and their baby—they
were leverage.
Molly was unnecessary to that plan. And yet… he could easily see the
fiery redhead taking things into her own hands, orchestrating her own escape.
And rescuing the others as well because she was filled to brimming with
Virtues. And with the child she carried, she was also full of life in a way that
made his mouth ache. Made him wish for a moment outside of this madness,
outside of the war, when he could simply be with her. Just revel in her
goodness for a while.
Not that he deserved any such thing.
Asa drifted to the window. The view wasn’t much, but in the distance, he
could see the towers of downtown Seattle. The humans had their device in
one of those towers—the device tipping everything and driving this beastly
war. He sent up a small prayer that Molly was safe… and that she would
forgive him, having to rescue herself. Had he acted sooner, she wouldn’t be in
the danger she is now. A danger she scarce may know of. If it were possible
for them to find her… Elyon would not be far behind.
A small pop of air behind him announced that Micah had returned. But
when Asa turned, there were two angelings, not one. His blade was out before
he could blink, a reflex honed in more battles than he could count.
The angeling at Micah’s side wrenched away from his grasp. “Why are we
here? I told you, I haven’t fucked her since—”
Asa surged forward, blade still at the ready. He hadn’t meant to, which
only made him as surprised as the other angeling when he stopped just short
of burying the point in the angeling’s skull via his chin. The angeling
stumbled back and grasped for his blade, but his sheath was empty. The whole
state of his dress—toga pushed aside, hanging from his waist, no other
garments—and his flushed face, plus his erect cock tenting out the small
drape of his clothes said Micah had pulled this one straight from the orgy.
 “I figured we’d have more privacy here,” Micah explained, then grasped
hold of the angeling’s shoulder again, this time with a blade at his side.
The angeling shot looks between the two.
“We don’t have to kill you,” Asa said, although he had a desire to do just
that. It wasn’t purely Wrath animating him, either—there was also a more
covetous Sin. Jealousy. If this angeling had seduced Molly, then this beast had
tasted a pleasure Asa never would… and with a woman he was vastly
unworthy of. Had he taken her by force, then he deserved to die, and slowly.
Either way, Asa’s blade was ready to find a home in his skull. “Just tell us
where she lives.”
“She’s in the nursery now.” The angeling’s fear response ticked up. “Go
see her yourself. I told you, I haven’t touched her—”
Micah leaned in and hissed, “He means here in the human world, idiot.”
“But why—”
Micah’s blade pressed deeper, drawing blood.
“Okay! All right!” He strained to lean away from the cut. “I’ll take you
there.”
“That works for me.” Asa grasped his other shoulder, sliding his blade so
the length of it pressed the angeling’s neck.
The wide-eyed angeling quickly twisted, bringing them both outside
another apartment door.
“It was here,” the angeling gasped, struggling to move without being
sliced open by one of their blades. “I swear.”
Asa could already sense their souls inside. Molly… and the others.
Including an angeling, who he hoped was the runaway angeling girl-child. If
not—if it were some other angeling—then that angeling was about to die.
Micah nodded to Asa then pulled his blade from the angeling’s side. “Go
back to the orgy. Keep fucking and keep your mouth shut. If I find out you’ve
breathed a word of this to anyone, I’ll slit your throat before you know I’m
there.”
The angeling’s eyes went wide, but when Asa released him, he twisted
away.
Asa wiped the blood on his blade and sheathed it. “He will tell. They
always tell.”
 “I know.” Micah did the same, stowing his blade. “But it will buy us a
little time. Perhaps.”
“Time is against us,” Asa insisted. “We need to move quickly. For all we
know, Elyon will be here in a moment. Make your goodbyes, and I will
transport them to true safety.”
Micah winced, stared at the door for a moment, then gave Asa a nod.
“I’ll take the angeling first,” Asa added. “In case she decides to flee with
one of them.”
Micah nodded again. Then they both twisted, making the short jump to
the other side of the wall, inside the apartment.
The three women were crowded around a tiny glass table, food spread
before them. Ren saw them first and shrieked. The other two gasped. Micah
spotted the angeling girl in the corner by the window just as she flung a blade
his way. He dodged it enough to have it only graze his shoulder, drawing
blood but sailing past to embed in the door behind him. He drew his own
blade and rushed her, no intent on harm, but needing the shock to hold her in
place before she could twist away. He reached her a split second too late—he
grasped at empty air. As he whirled around, he glimpsed her reappearing by
the door. By her blade.
He didn’t bother with charging her this time, just twisted and reappeared
next to her. The blade stabbed the wall where he had stood a half second ago,
and he grabbed her wrist before she could twist again. The women were
screaming, the babies were crying, and the last thing Asa saw before he
twisted away, runaway girl angeling in tow, was Molly’s horrified face.

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 Chapter Twelve

W HY DID YOU TRUST HIM ? M OLLY SCREAMED INSIDE .

And as raging angry as she was—falling again for the soft promises of a
shadow angeling? Epic level stupid—she had more important problems.
Like Asa just kidnapped Ariel.
Like Micah was here to get Ren.
Eden was slowly curling to the floor, huddling by the babies, but also just
completely shutting down. Ren was crying—Micah had her by the shoulders,
talking to her. Or something. Whispering with his head bent to her, but loud.
It was a babble. And his wings were out, practically filling her small living
room, but if Molly could just edge past him and get to the knife Ariel had
thrown—it had landed near the window—she could maybe threaten Micah
into leaving. Or at least leaving Eden alone.
There was no way she could go back. None.
But Molly only got halfway across the room when a pop in the air made
her jolt—
Asa was back.
What the hell?
“Are you done?” he asked Micah, voice rough.
“Take Eden first.”
What? “No!” Molly rushed back across the room. “Don’t touch her!”
Asa was already kneeling next to Eden, who was clutching Ralphie to her
chest and shaking her head in small, bird-like movements.
“No!” Molly screeched again when she reached Asa, trying to shove him
away. It was like moving a granite statue.
Asa scowled at her. “Molly—”
“Take me!” she gasped. “Leave her and take me instead! You don’t… you
can’t… she can’t…” Now she was the one babbling, still trying to shove his
immovable body. She could feel the tears coursing down her cheek.
“I’m taking you all.” But his voice was gentle. As if he didn’t think this
was a nightmare. As if his promise before to rescue her—to rescue them all
—was just a wisp of smoke that didn’t matter, didn’t even merit speaking of.
She pulled back her fist to punch him because goddamnit—
He disappeared.
She punched air and tumbled to her hands and knees.
Eden was gone. Ralphie was gone with her. Even little Eva was gone.
Molly sobbed, dumbstruck for a moment, then she scrambled to her feet.
Micah still had Ren in his grip, talking to her, whispering, like this was all
okay. She wasn’t crying anymore.
Oh, God. He was talking her into going back.
All the fight went out of Molly. These were angelings. They took what
they wanted, either by seduction or force. She was a fool. A fool once when
she was lured into their trap, and a fool twice to think she could escape it.
Ren dashed her a wide-eyed look, but Molly didn’t even want to hear it.
The excuses. The reasons it was okay. How it wasn’t their doom to return to
the nursery. Molly closed her eyes—she couldn’t bear to see the concern on
Ren’s face—and just stroked her tiny mound of belly and tried to stay upright.
Okay, baby. I’m not making it through this after all—but you might. Her lungs
burned for air like she’d been holding her breath for endless moments, so she
pulled some in and blew it out and prayed for some strength.
The air popped again.
When she opened her eyes, three pairs were staring back at her—Ren,
Micah, and… Asa again.
He’d come back for her. Of course. Because he was taking them all.
Asa was looking at her like he actually cared. Like he regretted some part
of this. She just glared at him and dared him to say something—anything—to
justify this. He actually seemed to cringe under her withering gaze. Good.
Asshole. She hoped he felt all the guilt in the world. It was nothing compared
to what Eden was probably suffering already.
“Take Ren,” Micah said softly.
What?
Asa turned a confused expression to him as well.
“It’s okay,” Micah said, but it wasn’t clear to whom. Then he took Ren’s
cheeks in his hands… and kissed her.
What the ever living— Molly just gaped.
Then it was over, and Asa took her hand, and they… disappeared.
Molly just stared at Micah.
He wouldn’t meet her gaze.
And somehow that powered her ability to speak. “How could you do this?
Didn’t you love her at all?”
He winced then peered at her. “I’m doing this because I love her.”
“So you’re sending her back to hell.”
His face fell blank. “She’ll be safer there.”
Before she could come up with a snappy retort, Asa reappeared. Back for
her, no doubt. Although she didn’t understand why she was last. Not that it
mattered.
Instead, he turned to Micah. “It’s the right thing to do.”
Micah hung his head but nodded. Then he gestured to Asa’s side. “You’ll
need to make it look good. I can’t go back with just a scratch.”
What the hell were they talking about now?
Asa grimaced, then suddenly, he’d drawn a knife from a hidden sheath at
his side. Molly’s eyes went wide as he raised it, but when he stabbed Micah…
she screamed. Then covered her mouth with both hands. And screamed again
when he plunged the knife four more times, each time striking Micah full in
the chest, beating him down to his knees and then to the ground.
“Go!” Asa cried out, and Micah just… vanished.
Then Asa turned toward her, bloody knife in hand, and she couldn’t
breathe.
Not a sound came from her.
She was frozen like a mouse before a wolf.
Asa sheathed the knife, wiped his hands on his black body armor, and
came for her.
 She stumbled and fell backward.
He caught her… and a moment later…
They were back in hell.
Only this time hell was a small room with black crystal walls, and it was
just Asa and her. Because apparently, he was bringing them all back… but she
would have special treatment.
And he killed Micah.
Oh, God. Her legs wobbled, and Asa tried to hold her, but she wiggled
free.
Free! Ha. She sagged to the floor and crawled away from him, as far as
she could get, up against the wall, then she folded up her legs underneath her
and tried to melt into the wall. It wouldn’t work. It wouldn’t stop him,
whatever he wanted from her, but it was all she could manage. When he came
closer, she would fight him. Then she realized… the baby. She couldn’t fight
—it might hurt the baby. So she’d just have to…
Sickness rose in the back of her throat.
She managed to keep it inside.
“I’m sorry.” Asa moved—she heard the whisper of his wings folding, the
soft thump of his boots on the crystal floor—but he didn’t move closer.
She peered up from where she was curled over against the wall. She
didn’t even have the strength to glare at him, so she just stared. He’d moved
to the farthest corner of the cell, which wasn’t far—just a dozen feet. The
room’s low platform seemed like a bed but nothing else.
“You promised,” she whispered. Would that reminder stop him, now that
he had her in a room alone?
“I’m not going to hurt you, Molly.” He looked pained that she would think
that.
She didn’t fucking care.
“You promised!” she hissed. And this time she meant the other promise—
the second one he made. That he would save them. That he would get them
free.
He winced and didn’t answer right away. Seemed to search for the right
words. As if there were right words to explain why she was back here. Worse,
alone with him. In some kind of cage.
 Finally, he said, “Elyon would have found you. Maybe not for a few days.
A week at most. Or it could have been any second—we had to move fast. And
when he found you, he would have done terrible things. To all three of you.
He would have used it as a lesson for Micah. To break him.”
“You killed him.” Her mind was a soup of confusion.
“I know how to kill an angeling, Molly.” His voice was rough again. “I
struck Micah everywhere he could afford to be struck and still live.” Then he
stopped talking and crossed his arms over his chest.
“I… I don’t understand.” She straightened a little, still leaned against the
wall for support, but eyeing him.
“I promised I would help you. And I swear this is the safest place for you
right now.”
“Here? But this is…” She looked around at the tiny room again. Same
black crystal walls as the nursery… but was this someplace else? And what
about the others?
“You thought I was taking you back to Elyon,” he finished for her. “I see
that now. I’m sorry. We should have explained and not just…” He gestured
with his hands then just tucked them back across his chest. “…snatched you
away. But we didn’t know how fast he might find you. We had to get out of
there.”
“Because he might come after us.” Asa wasn’t attacking her, now in this
moment, and if that was all he wanted, well… he would have by now. “So,
you’re saying this…” She glanced around the small room. “This is saving
us.”
“You’re deep inside Razael’s Regiment.” He unlocked his arms but
seemed unsure as to what to do with his hands. He rubbed the back of his
neck with one. “I split you up, spread you out into different cells. In the very
unlikely event that Elyon attacked the Regiment and was able to find one of
you, he wouldn’t be able to get all three in one strike.”
She straightened further but still stayed on the floor. Somehow, it still felt
safer there. “Different cells? So we’re prisoners again, just in a different
flavor of hell.” Her mind was clearing. What was really going on here?
He cringed and shook his head, wearily. “Cell is just… that’s what we call
our rooms.”
 “Your… rooms?”
“This is my cell. It’s where I sleep. When I sleep. Which isn’t often.” He
seemed agitated.
She frowned, but hope was rushing back, unbidden. “You know bringing
me back to your room isn’t exactly…”
“Yes, I know. That was a mistake.” He muttered something in a language
she didn’t understand. “I’m sorry for all of this, Molly. You deserve better.”
And like that, a switch was flipped in her. Because that’s not the kind of
thing bad men say.
He peered at her where she was still folded up on the floor. “Are you
hurt?”
“No.” And she decided that maybe it was safe enough to stand. So she
did. But her legs were still wobbly, so she held onto the cool wall as she did—
it hummed slightly with energy. Just like the walls of the nursery. “Where are
Eden and Ren and the babies? I want to see them.” She wasn’t 100% sure she
believed all this. It seemed strange that they were separated, although his
explanation made a kind of sense.
“Soon,” he said.
She scowled.
“It’s for your protection,” he tried, but it sounded weak. He closed his
eyes and rubbed his forehead. When he opened his eyes, his look was
pleading—like he really wanted her forgiveness for this.
But this was far from the freedom she had just minutes ago. “You’re
protecting me from Elyon,” she said coolly.
“In Truth, protecting you from everyone.” He grimaced. “Look, this is
all… not to plan. I need to check in with Razael—”
“Razael?” He’d said that name before, but she didn’t know who he meant.
“He’s an angel, the leader of my Regiment—”
“Like Elyon.” She squinted at him.
“Not like Elyon.” He seemed flustered. “But yes, a dark angel. You don’t
understand—”
“Shocking,” she snapped. “Given that no one bothers to explain anything
to us. But we’re just the human slaves carrying the next generation of
angelings, that’s all.”
 Asa’s shoulders drooped, and she felt a smidge bad for yelling at him, but
not much—he wasn’t the one carted around and caged up like a prize to be
fought over and traded back and forth. Maybe she was in Razael’s Regiment
now, but as far as she could tell, the cage had just gotten smaller. And now
she was separated from her friends. Her sisters.
“You have every right to be angry.” His face was drawn. “At me,
specifically. But I promise you, Molly, I’m doing everything I can to protect
you.”
She didn’t want to believe him—she didn’t want to be a fool again, three
seconds after he’d snatched her out of her own apartment—but she believed
him, in spite of herself. At the very least, he believed he was helping her. That
much she was sure of.
“Let’s say I believe that,” she mumbled. “What happens now?”
There was relief plain on his face, and that wormed into her mind. He was
Mr. Honorable before, and her experience with people wasn’t exactly vast—
the important ones tended to die and leave her—but she liked to think that
people’s character didn’t just change overnight. Unless she’d misjudged him
before—but actions mattered. You are what you do. Her dad’s words again.
She would judge Asa by the things he did—before and now.
Asa pulled in a breath. “I need to go see Razael and explain why he
suddenly has three pregnant humans, two angeling babies, and a very irate
angeling teen girl in his Regiment.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “Ariel’s here? She’s okay?”
“I had to restrain her, so she didn’t run off with you three again, but yes.”
Her mind spun. “When can I see her? And the others?” If nothing else,
she needed to see them to believe they were okay.
“Soon.” At her disparaging look, he quickly added, “I promise, as soon as
I can. First, I need to speak to Razael. And before I can do that, I needed to
make sure…” He looked her over, but not in a salacious way—like he was
checking for bleeding or broken things. “Tell me you’re okay.”
“I’m okay.” And she was—confused and angry, maybe, but uninjured.
And no longer in fear she would be imminently raped. Points in Asa’s favor
for that.
“I’m going to leave you here.” He gestured to the small space they were
in. “This is my room, but you may have it. I’ll find elsewhere to rest if I must.
Just promise me you won’t do anything crazy like…”
“Like?” She lifted her eyebrows again.
“Like try to leave.”
Her eyebrows crashed back down.
“I’m locking the door, but it’s for your own safety.”
“Sure.” But the way he winced—he heard the bitterness in her voice.
He strode to a doorway that was seamless with the wall such that she
hadn’t even noticed it. He waved it open and stood on the threshold. She
could see a black-crystal-walled hallway beyond—no different than the
nursery.
“Molly, I would never hurt you,” he said with a frown, “but I can’t
promise others in the Regiment won’t be tempted. You must understand—
you’re beautiful and human and shining with Virtues. Any angeling will be
drawn like you’re an impossibly sweet nectar they can’t resist tasting. And
angelings in shadow are not familiar with the concept of resisting Sin. So, I’m
sealing the door with magic only I can unseal. If you must hate me for it, I’ll
take that burden before I see you harmed in any way.”
And then he left, waving the door closed behind him.
Impossibly sweet nectar? Why did that make her flush? How stupid was
she to feel a surge of… something… with the idea of Asa tasting her?
Answer: very stupid. Very, very stupid.
She was locked in his room, a prisoner once again.
And even if Asa was one of the Good Guys, this was not where she
wanted to be.

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 Chapter Thirteen

A SA STRODE INTO R AZAEL ’ S THRONE ROOM , BUT THE ANGEL WASN ’ T THERE .
Razael kept a cell—really a suite of rooms behind the throne room—but
that was empty. Asa grimaced. Had this all gone down while Razael was
away… Asa quickly twisted and traveled to the balcony, the other spot
commonly used for meetings of the Regiment and was relieved to see Razael
there.
Less so when he heard Razael speak. “I know the humans are enticing.
But you’ve been out in the human realm enough. You can resist the
temptation here as well.”
The grumbling that went round chilled Asa.
Holy magic, the women had only been on the premises mere minutes. And
he’d already locked all three away, not including the angeling Ariel, who he’d
had to bind with magical restraints to keep her from fleeing. Fuck.
“Asa,” Razael beckoned him.
“Yes, my lord?” The gathered angelings parted between them, and Asa
stepped forward.
“Am I to surmise your mission has been a success?” Razael arched an
eyebrow, inviting him to explain. He had already given Asa extraordinary
leeway, has he popped in with humans and an angeling in tow without
explanation—and Razael was, unasked, counseling his Regiment in restraint.
Asa tried to repay that with an answer that would play well to the
Regiment. “Yes, my lord, in part, but… there have been a few complications.”
Razael chuckled. “Rather beautiful ones at that.”
 Murmurs of appreciation rippled through the crowd, but Razael’s eyes
were sharp on him. He expected more, of course.
“My lord…” Asa could hear the strain in his own voice. “Might we
discuss this in private?”
A flicker of concern crossed Razael’s face, but then he waved at the
assembled troops. “All right, we still have a war to fight. I want rotations for
patrols of the city to be kept, but during the off-times, you have my leave to
engage in festivities.” He smirked. “To relieve a little of the tension caused by
our new guests.”
A cheer went up. Festivities were the orgies. As much as Asa disliked
them and Razael didn’t engage in them, they were a way to keep his troops
engaged in each other and not drawn in by the allure of the humans living in
the palace. The shadowlings could fuck each other any time they wanted, but
a certain liberation came with the orgies—jealousies were expected to be
forgotten; whatever tenuous love pairings existed were erased for the moment
then resumed without rancor after the festivities ended.
Razael beckoned him to follow as he strode into the main chamber off the
balcony.
Asa caught up with him inside. “Thank you, my lord.”
“I assume you have more explanation for me.” Razael kept striding into
the hallway, heading for his throne room.
“Yes, of course.” But Asa wanted to wait until they had reached the throne
room, and he was assured they were alone. “How goes the war?”
“Badly,” Razael said, his voice gruff. “The body count keeps rising. I’ve
got a third of my Regiment out, requiring extensive healing and life kisses.
Another third barely keeping those alive. And that’s not counting the ones
we’ve already lost.”
“So the Summer Court has not been of help?” Asa frowned—Micah had
said the summer forces were giving them a run.
“Without them, we would be lost already.” They had reached the throne
room. It was empty. Razael pulled to a stop and turned to face him, his face
more drawn than had been evident on the balcony. Angels control every
aspect of their manifestation, so Asa took that for what it was—an
encouragement to speak up quickly.
 “I may have turned Micah,” Asa said.
Razael’s eyebrows lifted. “And what is uncertain about that?”
“The extent of his love for one of the women?” Asa lifted his hands in a
helpless gesture. “The quality of his bravery? Whether he will be discovered?
A lot remains to be seen.”
Razael’s expression had fallen into a frown. He took a seat on his throne.
“One of the women you brought to the palace?”
“She’s carrying his child.”
Razael’s eyebrows lifted again. “And his love of her is True?”
“I believe so, but…” Asa grimaced, not sure how to accurately frame
Micah’s situation. “He is definitely lost in love. Yet, Elyon has tormented him
with previous loves—destroying them to destroy Micah’s ability to hold onto
it. Believe in it, perhaps. It is vile, but Micah is… damaged. I don’t know the
extent of it, but that’s just his soul—I also used a blade on him before I sent
him back to Elyon, and well… he’s definitely in a weakened physical state.”
Razael rose up from his throne. “Killing our mole would not be very
effective, Asa.”
“Understood.” He wished there had been a better option—that part had
taken him by surprise.
“And we’ll know if he’s with us… how?”
“Unknown at this point.” Asa sighed. “We have his lover and child, my
lord. If that’s not sufficient motivation for him to bring down his father, I
doubt anything will accomplish it.”
Razael nodded and eased back to sitting on his throne. “And the others
you brought?”
“I couldn’t just leave them, but…” Asa grimaced again. “I’m sure Elyon
will want them back. He may even come for them.”
Razael tapped a finger to his lips. “Elyon does not suffer things stolen
from him—”
“It’s worse than that,” Asa said. “The blonde one with the face of an
angeling? She’s carrying his child.”
Razael gave him a long, hard look.
Asa shifted from one foot to the other. “I couldn’t just—”
Razael cut him off with a raised hand. “He will come for her.”
 Asa cringed. “I’m afraid so.”
Razael let out a long sigh. “Does he know of your involvement?”
“I’m certain Micah will let me take the blame—it is his cover story. We
should warn Zuriel.”
Razael nodded. “He will make war on her.”
“She need only tell him that it was truly us—”
Razael shook his head. “It would not matter.”
He was probably right. The angel drew in a deep breath. “And the third
one? Is there something I need to know about her?”
“She is innocent of any of this,” Asa rushed out. “Merely entangled. I had
to bring her because…” He stumbled. Because what reason was there, really?
“Because Elyon would have gone after her, too. She was part of his nursery.”
But Razael caught his hesitation. “So why not leave her?”
“In fact, the women orchestrated their own escape—”
“And yet you brought her here,” Razael pressed.
“She was in danger—”
“Only of being returned to where she started.” Razael lifted one eyebrow.
Asa stalled out. He couldn’t leave her. It was preposterous—
Razael tilted his head. “Do you have love of her?”
Asa’s struggled for words. Did he? How else to describe his driving need
to keep her safe? “It’s not like that. She’s innocent in this. Her child, too. I
couldn’t just leave…” He trailed off with Razael’s sympathetic look—too
much understanding lay behind the angel’s eyes. Asa’s face grew hot, and he
dropped his gaze, scouring his memories. Did he endanger the mission? Make
the wrong choice? Just because he found her pleasant to look upon… or was
it more than that?
“It’s all right, Asa,” Razael said gently. “Love doesn’t always announce
itself with a clarion call and a surge of Lust.”
Asa looked up sharply. “She is very desirable.” Why was he defending
that?
“Of course she is.” Razael tipped his head. “Which is why I’ve forbidden
anyone from touching her. Or the other two.”
Asa swallowed. “You knew…” How could he have known? Angels can
peer into one’s soul, but they can’t read minds.
 Razael smiled gently. “I knew you, Asa. If you were bringing humans to
my Regiment, it wouldn’t be as highlights for the festivities.”
Molly was safe here. Asa knew that intuitively, but it was reassuring to
hear it from the angel’s mouth. “There remains the girl angeling,” he said,
hoping they were moving on from his highly ambiguous feelings for Molly.
“She was their escape from the nursery, barely more than a child. I’ve bound
her, and she doesn’t yet bear Razael’s mark, but she’s also none too pleased to
be here.”
“There’s no path for her to go back.” Razael frowned.
“I know that. And you know that,” Asa countered. “But she…”
“Bring her to me.”
Asa tipped his head and twisted away to the small cell where he had
stashed the girl. It was one of the magically-bound cells that Razael kept for
the rare, occasional prisoner the Regiment might take in. Mostly, angelings
either fought-and-escaped or fought-and-died or, in rare circumstances,
fought-and-converted—prisoners were not a thing most angels kept. But then
Razael was far different from most angels.
“Razael has summoned you,” Asa said to her as he wiped away the magic
bindings he’d hastily conjured on top of the boundary restraints of the cell. He
kept his hand tight on her arm lest she twist and run. “He is the lord of this
Regiment, so I suggest you listen to what he has to say.”
The girl simply glared at him.
He twisted and dragged her back to the throne room, but when they
arrived, Razael was not alone.
Laylah. And she was covered in blood.
“What happened?” Asa demanded of her. He would go to her, but he
couldn’t let go of the girl without her flitting away.
“Oh, just fighting the war while you were playing.” She wiped some of
the blood from her face—it appeared not to be entirely hers, so his panic
ratcheted down. “What happened to you?” she snapped. “I hear you’re
back… and with humans?” But she gave an askance look to the girl whose
arm he clutched. She was holding stock-still now that she was in Razael’s
presence.
“Release her,” the angel commanded.
 Asa gave him a pinched look but let go of the girl.
She stumbled toward him, definitely not under her own power. But then
she found her footing again and stood tall and proud in spite of whatever hold
Razael had placed on her to keep her from fleeing.
“What’s your name, child?” Razael asked.
She lifted her chin. “Ariel.”
Laylah edged over to Asa. “Okay, where’d you get the kid?” she
whispered.
“Elyon’s nursery.” Asa visually swept her wounds. They didn’t seem dire.
Laylah’s eyebrows hiked up, and she fell silent.
“You cannot return to Elyon.” Razael was speaking to the girl—Ariel—
and not unkindly.
“Release me,” she said, her voice strong. “You have no claim on me.”
“And neither does he.” The air hummed with the power emanating from
Razael. The girl was brave to talk back to an angel, Asa would give her that.
Laylah looked impressed as well.
“You do not bear his mark,” Razael continued. “You are welcome to make
your vows here, child. We’ll protect you should he come seeking the
mothers.”
“I won’t have sex with the likes of you!” Ariel announced.
Asa choked on his surprise. Laylah flicked a look at him like Where did
you find this one? With disgust, Asa realized that must be what vow-making
was like in Elyon’s Regiment. Even for those fresh out of the nursery. Micah
spoke of a night-long orgy… Holy angels of light…
Razael was nodding solemnly. “Elyon requires this of you?”
The girl hesitated, flicking a look at Asa and then Laylah. “He… he
chooses a Master, and then…” She stood straighter and faced Razael again.
“You should slay me now. I will not submit.”
Sweet magic… Asa held his tongue. He could see Razael choosing his
words carefully.
“We have no Masters here, Ariel,” Razael said, gently. “Our Regiment is a
family. We pledge our blood to our brothers and sisters, to protect one
another, to defend what’s ours, to fight those who would visit evil on the
world.”
 Ariel’s eyes were wide, but she seemed more lost than amazed. “You do
not have sex?”
A smile twitched on Razael’s face. “It is voluntary. For those who wish it.
But you are barely more than a child. I would recommend you wait.”
Her expression transformed to amazement.
“And as a child, I would normally not offer a vow-making.” Razael
frowned. “But you are Fallen, are you not? Show me your wings, child.” It
wasn’t a command, but Ariel readily obeyed, unfurling them wide. Asa could
have told him—he’d seen them back at the apartment. Razael sighed. “If you
were younger, and still full of Virtues, I’d send you to the angels of light.”
“But they would kill me!” she protested.
Asa smirked. Never mind she had offered herself up for slaying moments
before.
“Well, they might,” Razael said. “Regardless, you’re better suited here.
And, as I said, we can protect you. Should Elyon want to come and claim
you.”
“What is… what do I have to do?” she asked, voice softer now.
“Make the vow. Bear my mark.” Razael leaned forward on his throne. “It
is painful, Ariel. The marking itself.”
“I am not afraid of pain.” That defiant chin lift again.
“No, I imagine not,” Razael said with a small smile.
Asa flicked a look at Laylah. She was fighting a grin just like he was.
“I’ll need to make arrangements for our other guests,” Asa said,
interrupting—but he was eager to get back to Molly and explain how
everything was cleared. They had Razael’s blessing. Ariel was making her
vows. This would all work out.
Razael gave him a nod. “I’ll pull some of the Regiment back from the
streets. Make sure we have round-the-clock reinforcements here. And we’ll
need to meet with the light forces, update them on the news.”
“Understood.”
Laylah tagged behind Asa as he strode from the throne room. “You have a
lot of explaining to do.”
“Later.” He strode ahead then pulled to a stop once they were outside the
throne room. “Wait… are you all right? I’m pretty sure I owe you a life kiss.”
 “Is that an offer I shouldn’t turn down?” Her eyes lit up.
But that wasn’t what he meant. At all. “Laylah…”
She waved him off. “I’m fine. Can’t blame me for trying.”
He needed to say it plainly. “It’s not going to work between us.”
Especially now that Molly… well, she had roused certain parts of him that
were long dead. If there were anyone he might want in his bed… which was
actually where she might be at this moment… Something stirred below his
waist with that thought…
Laylah was giving him a very odd look. “Okay, then, Hot Stuff. Thanks
for making that clear. Go take care of your humans.” She turned her back on
him and strode away, boots striking harder than he thought necessary with
each step.
He sighed. Laylah wanted him. He wanted Molly. Molly wanted nothing
to do with any of them. It was the insanity that Sin produced.
Still… he couldn’t help the quick and eager steps that carried him back to
his cell.

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 Chapter Fourteen

T HE N EW H ELL WAS A LOT LONELIER THAN THE O LD H ELL .

Molly stared at the walls. And the ceiling. And the floor. All hummed
with the same mind-numbing dull vibration. Asa flitted in occasionally—to
bring her food—but then he hurried out again with hardly a word. He had
produced by magic a shower stall and toilet at one end of the tiny cell, which
was very considerate, but also just made the space even more cramped. The
walls were closing in on her, and she made extra trips to the bathroom just to
move.
Right now, she was lying on the bed—just a super-thin mat on top of more
of that black crystal—and staring at the ceiling and wondering how she would
make it through this.
Was this her life now? What about after the baby? Would she still have to
be a prisoner? Would she spend the next eighteen years raising a child in a
tiny dungeon of shadow magic?
The questions were crowding in on her brain and making it shut down.
The minutes ticked by like a watch winding down, somehow getting slower
with each passing one.
She needed answers from Asa, not just another tray with cold soup and
crackers.
Although she had to give him credit for what he had done. The food, the
toiletries, the fresh water to clean up. She had no idea how all the magic
worked, but it made the confinement slightly more human. And she could tell
by the harried look on his face, and his eager scans of hers—he was trying to
care for her.
But she couldn’t stay in this box forever.
Just as she vowed to press him about that next time he showed, the door
shushed open, and Asa bustled through with another tray. This one had a
chocolate croissant and orange juice, and the insta-watering of her mouth
almost completely derailed her.
“I consulted with the light forces,” he said hastily as if there were a timer
on how long he could speak, and he needed to rush it all out, “and they said
this would be pleasing.” He looked to her, hope in his eyes.
“I’m already drooling.” She had to force herself to wrench her gaze from
the treat.
He frowned. “Is that…”
“Yes, that’s good.” She smiled, and so did he, and dang it—he was pretty
damn cute with that Oh hell, did I get this right? concern etching his face.
Like it was important to him. She hadn’t had someone take care of her that
way in a long time—not since her parents were snatched out of her life by
Lady Bad Luck.
“Good,” he breathed. “All right, then—”
Oh crap, he was about to bolt again. “Asa!” she blurted out.
He jolted, and concern jumped back on his face. “Is there something
wrong?”
“I just…” Suddenly, the complaints were tangling in her throat, with that
sweet look of concern on his face. “I just… need some new clothes, okay?”
She’d been literally living in these ones forever. Back at Elyon’s nursery, they
resupplied them with new ones once a week, but she’d been on the run and
eating pizza and hadn’t even managed to change while she was in her
apartment. Now she was cooped up here…
His eyes were wide like new clothes were somehow dangerous. “What
kind of clothes do you wish for?” His gaze traveled her body then jumped
back to her face like he was afraid to be caught looking.
Not that she was anything to look at in these shapeless gray pants and
shirt. Suddenly the prospect of something sleek and sexy made flutters jump
in her stomach. Not just wearing them but having Asa see them. Oh fuck…
that was bad news. And yet she couldn’t quite stop herself from saying,
“Something nice. Black maybe. And a little more fitted. And just with a little
fashion, maybe?”
He looked like she was asking him to build the pyramids.
Her shoulders slumped. “Or just the same thing only fresher. That’ll do.”
He frowned. “No. That won’t do.”
She opened her mouth to reassure him, but he’d already turned his back
on her and was halfway out the door. By the time she recovered from the
shock, he was gone, door closed… and she was alone with the croissant.
Dammit! She was supposed to grill him on where all this was headed,
demand to see Ren and Eden, anything but fucking ask for new clothes and
send him off in a tizzy.
She let out a heavy sigh and brought the tray over to the bed to eat.
Strategy. She needed to sharpen up and have a plan. The surge of sugar
from the juice helped clear her head. Either Asa would let her go, or he would
build her an ever-more-gilded cage to stay trapped in forever. She understood
he wanted to protect her from crazy-angel Elyon, and there was the severe
complication that she was pregnant, but she’d been on her own for half her
life—she could figure out a way to make all that work. She could leave
Seattle. Disappear into the woodwork. Going back to her apartment was
stupid—Asa found her there in less than a day. But if he could have magically
tracked her, then he would have found her sooner. So she just had to melt into
the human framework and start over somewhere new. Her and her angeling
baby—she would figure that part out, too. So the only question was—would
Asa let her go? Or would she have to escape again on her own?
There were Eden and Ren to worry about, but she hadn’t even seen them
since she got here—so that was Top Priority. She’d ask for that first. Then
press him, see if there was any possibility, any hope that he might let her go
sometime in the future. Then she’d work on moving that time closer to right
fucking now… because this place was making her crazy. And if he was
stubborn—and really, if that concern of his was only to keep her alive, not
sane—then she would get to work on Plan B. Find another way out.
Just as she was cleaning up the last of the crumbs, Asa made an
appearance again, holding a bag. He hurried inside, the door sliding closed
behind him.
 He held the bag out at arm’s length. “A friend of mine with more
knowledge of, uh, human female attire, conjured these for you.”
She took the department-store-sized bag and fought through the lump in
her throat. He was trying so hard. “Thanks.” She peered inside. Puddles of
rich green and blue and white fabric filled it. Color. It was like she was
starving for it.
He gestured vaguely at her body. “I had to… describe your, um… state.”
His expression was pained. “I do not know if they will fit,” he rushed out.
“Oh! I’ll try them on.” She pointed a finger at him. “Stay right there.”
Then she shuffled past him in the cramped cell quarters to step into the
miniature bathroom he had conjured for her.
His eyes were wide again as she slid the door shut.
This is good, she told herself. He’d have to stick around long enough to
see the clothes, then she could press him about returning to the world of
humans. And what better way to show she didn’t belong here than to put on
some human-world clothes for once? It was cramped in the bathroom, but it
was easy to shuck off her formless gray sweats and shirt. Her keepers before
had never given her underwear, so she was used to going au natural with her
baby bump under everything. When she dug into the bag, she was
immediately mesmerized by the yards and yards of green fabric that pooled
like silk and ran everywhere. Green had always been her best color, but she
rarely wore it—she needed just the right shade not to clash with her fire-red
hair. But this endless silky thing, whatever it was, seemed the perfect deep
emerald color, so she spooled it out of the bag, tried to figure it out, then
slipped it over her head.
It was a dress. A dream dress that floated over her skin like it was made of
air and green mist. She could feel the heat rise in her face. It dipped low,
showing off her chest, and then parted completely to bare her baby bump. The
sleeves were long and a magnificent cape pooled behind her. A short skirt
barely covered her privates—and she was completely sans underwear, so that
was super risky—but the whole thing felt like a gorgeous, sexy whisper
against her skin.
She didn’t want to take it off. More than that, she wanted to show it to
Asa. Which seemed crazy—was she trying to seduce him?—but the flutters in
her stomach were chanting, Do it! Do it! Do it!
Her brain struggled to put a reason to the urge, and she decided that
maybe she was trying to seduce him. If that was how to get him to take her
back to the human world…
She slid open the bathroom door and stepped out.
Asa’s mouth dropped open in a very satisfying way.
Her stomach flutters were cheering. Not that she was angeling-level
beautiful or anything, but this dress had a magic of its own.
“Are you…” Asa blinked and then visibly swallowed. “Is this what you
wanted?” His voice was hiked up, and that ran a flush all over her body.
Which made her cringe a little inside because she knew what her body did
when she was embarrassed. Or excited. It pinked up all over like she was
having a heat rash attack.
She suddenly felt a little too naked. She gathered some folds of the cape
and drew them over her legs. “Well, it is a little bare.” Her movement drew
his eyes down to where her hands were bunched by her skirt.
He seemed fixated there, and she was afraid the heat coursing all over her
body was suddenly pooling between her legs and somehow showing… Oh,
God…
“I should…” She stumbled back into the bathroom. “I’ll try the other
ones.” She shut the door, but not before she glimpsed his brown eyes blazing
at her.
She’d seen that look on a man’s face before. Lust. Serious lust. That dress
had made Asa hot for her, and while she clawed her way out of it, she
couldn’t help but feel the residual effects of that look like a hand sweeping all
over her body, igniting it everywhere.
God, she was throbbing with need.
How long had it been? Obviously, that wild night when she was with the
other angeling—that had been fueling her fantasies ever since, but in a weird
way, since the whole thing had left her pregnant and trapped in Hell. And
there wasn’t exactly much privacy in the nursery to take care of such things.
Mostly, she’d hastily gotten relief in the shower. But that look from Asa had
freaking turned her on… and now she couldn’t turn off her body’s reaction.
She ran cold water in the sink—as ice cold as she could get it—and
splashed her face. That wasn’t nearly enough, so splashed it everywhere…
including between her legs. That helped a little. And now she was just cold.
She used a towel to vigorously dry off.
Asa had to wonder what was taking her so long.
She dug through the bag again, and the rest were more sensible. A black
dress that was snug but not revealing—well except that she was sans
underwear, which was suddenly becoming a serious problem—and the other
was a pair of jeans shorts and a blousy white top. She pulled that on, figuring
the shorts were sturdier, in case she had another full-body lust flareup. Not
that she could be blamed for that reaction—Asa was a perfect specimen of
male beauty, and that look he gave her… Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.
Once she was dressed, she felt a little more in control.
She stepped out of the bathroom again. “Much better,” she pronounced,
then faltered.
The intense look on Asa’s face hadn’t cooled at all. He dropped his gaze
to her clothes—no, to her chest—and it stayed there long enough she
reflexively looked down. Oh crap. Her nipples were super hard and pointy
and totally showing through her white shirt.
She crossed her arms over her chest, and his gaze rose to her eyes again.
“They definitely seem to fit.” She could see him breathing hard.
Well, she wanted to seduce him…
Molly swallowed down the stomach flutters, which were having a manic
pixie party, and uncrossed her arms and sauntered over to Asa. Saunter was
probably overstating things. He was only a half dozen feet away.
His eyes went wide, but he didn’t flee out the door.
“I need… some other things, too.” She stood super close to him. It was
setting her skin on fire, and his chest was rising and falling rapidly under his
battle gear.
“What do you need?” It was a whisper. His eyes were locked on hers.
They seemed to peer into her soul, which she knew was a thing angelings
could actually do, and it left her feeling even more naked than the green dress.
“I need…” Her mouth was suddenly dry. What her body needed was to
wrestle Asa into the bed and ride him until she came and came and came.
That was not happening. Nor were any words to that effect coming out of her
mouth. Instead, she forced out different ones—words that stuck to her plan. “I
need to see Ren and Eden.”
“That’s good,” he whispered. “Because I’m going to take you to them
right now.” But he just reached for her cheek instead, his gaze sweeping her
face and then dropping to her lips. The backs of his fingers brushed her jaw.
He was going to kiss her.
She’d never been so certain of something in her life, so when he didn’t—
when he pulled back, dropped his hand, and sucked in a breath—it left an
ache in her chest so sudden it hurt.
What was she doing? Trying to seduce an angeling? With her flawed and
human body? What a tremendously stupid idea. Embarrassment sliced
through her so strong it felt like a knife.
Asa stepped back, right up against the door, and cleared his throat. “We
should go.”
The pain of rejection was singing in her.
He magicked open the door and backed away, right over the threshold,
and waited for her outside the room.
She stepped across. “Are we going to see Ren and Eden?”
“Yes.” He took her elbow to guide her down the hallway as he started
walking, then immediately released it.
It embarrassed her how much she wanted that touch to linger. Get it
fucking together, Molly Bitter! She couldn’t let raging hormones drive her
right now. Stick to the plan.
“You can’t keep us locked up forever.” She kept her voice cool. Calm.
Reasonable. Definitely not aching to have him touch her again. “What about
when the babies come? They need a home, not a cell. They can’t grow up in a
cage.”
He was briskly walking her down one turn then another. “I know.” But he
didn’t elaborate.
“So, how’s that going to work?” she pressed. She might get him to see the
logical part of it. All of them—Eden, Ren, Ralphie, Eva, Molly, the new
babies—they all needed to be back in the human world. Otherwise, they
might as well have left the babies behind in Elyon’s Regiment. Surely, he
could see that. And Asa had already done so many sweet things for her, even
the clothes—
They rounded one more corner. He drew her to a stop in front of a door
with another light touch on her elbow that then disappeared. There was
another angeling stationed there, standing guard. He and Asa exchanged short
nods.
To her, Asa said, “I’ve been working on a solution.” The heat was gone
from his eyes now, replaced by that hopeful look he had when he brought the
croissant.
He used magic to swipe open the door.
Inside was a room bursting with color. Bright yellow walls, sparkling
white cribs, and a rainbow carpet that stretched across the expansive room. It
had rockers and sofas and small tables stacked with a kaleidoscope of colorful
toys—blocks and dolls and trains. A parade brightly-colored cartoon animals
marched across the walls
Molly’s mouth was hanging open. He’d built a nursery for her. And not
just for her—Eden was curled up in a chair, and Ren stood holding Ralphie
over one crib. Molly was stunned and touched and… tears crowded her eyes.
Not because it was lovey—it was. And not because it was thoughtful—it was
that, too.
Because he meant to keep her here.
Forever.
She stumbled into the room.

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 Chapter Fifteen

A SA MADE A MENTAL NOTE TO INTRODUCE T AJAEL TO THE POINT OF HIS

blade.
Fucking angeling of light knew exactly what he was doing when he
conjured those clothes for Molly. The way she’d donned them for him and
displayed her luscious form, so full of curves and womanly life… he’d nearly
taken her right then.
Just when he was gaining her trust.
Just as he’d finally completed the nursery—the one he’d hoped would
settle her heart and make the time she would be confined to the Regiment,
time spent with him… tolerable. He could see how it ate at her, being locked
away, and he could hardly blame her. The last thing he needed was to let his
Lust run rampant all over that gorgeous body of hers and ruin any chance of
her trusting a shadow angeling again. She didn’t need another reason to hate
him.
But he’d controlled himself. And he’d moved up the plan to bring her
here.
As she stepped inside, eyes full of wonder, his heart danced.
Perhaps she would be happy now.
“I believe it has everything necessary,” he said, trailing behind her as she
slowly moved into the room. “Razael’s daughter, Erelah, is an angeling mated
to one of the dragon princes, and she’s remained in the light while raising
their son. She had many opinions about the things required to raise an
angeling child in a human way.”
 “A human way…” Molly echoed him, but her expression was all wrong.
Distraught. Tormented.
“Have I…” Asa scoured the room to see what might be amiss. “Have I
missed something important?”
“Yes.” And the way she said it drew his attention sharply to her. Molly
turned to face him. “This isn’t the human world, Asa.”
“Yes, I know, but—” His explanations died as she just shook her head and
turned away. Asa had taken blades to the chest which hurt less.
He stood by the door as Molly strode across the room to greet Ren. They
hugged and whispered, and the gulf between himself and the women felt a
thousand miles not a few tens of feet. Next, Molly bent down by Eden, whose
gaze never focused on anything anymore. At least, not since he’d brought her
to Razael’s Regiment. Asa knew she was broken—he could see the damage to
her soul as plain as any in angelkind—but there was nothing to be done about
it. A life kiss might heal her soul-wound, but any time he got close, she
reacted violently, jerking away and flailing and screaming. It was not good for
the baby. And bestowing the life kiss would not help if the mere act of it
would break her further. Molly had better luck with her than anyone he’d seen
—she could at least pat Eden’s hand without the panicked reaction—but he
could see the hope drain from Molly’s face as Eden stayed mute, staring into a
distance that didn’t exist.
Eventually, Molly returned to him.
Only she was livid. “Do you see what this is doing to her?” Molly hissed
with a backward glance at Eden. Ren had her hands full tending to the babies,
who were both awake now.
Asa grimaced. “I know. She’s broken.”
“Broken by one of your kind.” Her voice was tight and low.
He couldn’t deny it—Elyon’s horrors were unique, but it wasn’t as if
shadowkind was known for its Virtues. “If I could heal her, Molly, I would. I
can’t even get close—”
“That’s because she needs away from this place.” The anger in her eyes
was morphing into a pleading look reaching straight into his soul.
“I told you—it’s not safe. Especially for Eden.” How could he convince
her? He pulled at the buckles holding his body armor strapped tight across his
chest.
“What are you…?” Her eyes were wide.
“Do you see this mark?” He bared Zuriel’s magically-inscribed tattoo on
his chest. “It’s not just a seal, a vow to the angel you serve. It’s also a magical
beacon. Once you are marked in Elyon’s Regiment, he can find you anywhere
in the mortal or immortal realms.”
Her delicate face paled, and she glanced at Eden. “Do you think he—”
“No.” Asa put his clothes right again. “He doesn’t have to. She carries his
seed, Molly.”
Her face fell blank—she must finally understand.
But he made it plain anyway. “He can sense that child anywhere. It is the
same reason Micah cannot run away—he is triple-marked, being Elyon’s
child, marked in the Regiment, and branded Magis in Elyon’s inner circle.
Even Ren is marked, carrying Elyon’s grandchild—further removed, but still
a signature he could track through magical space. Elyon would find them all,
no matter where they ran. The only place Eden and Ren are safe is buried
inside a Regiment hundreds-strong and devoted to protecting them. And
Micah will only find safety when Elyon is dead.”
“What about me?” Her eyes were pinned to his face, reading him. “Elyon
never marked me.”
He couldn’t help the flinch.
The fury was back on her face. “You could let me go. You could… but
you won’t. Why?”
“Elyon would still hunt for you—
“I would hide. Really well.” She was pleading with him now. “There are
billions of people on the planet. How would he find me? He wouldn’t! I could
just—”
“I can’t take that risk!” It blurted out of him, and he regretted it the
instant it did.
Molly was aghast. Horrified. And he felt the shame of it burn him.
Just then, the door behind him swept open. Asa jolted and whirled around
—it was only Laylah.
“What are you doing here?” he snapped.
Laylah gave him a saucy look. “I heard you needed more guards. Ones
you could trust.” Then she gave a longer, head-to-toe appraisal of Molly.
He felt the wrongness of that and stepped between them. “I don’t need
more guards, Laylah.”
She arched an eyebrow. “That’s not what Razael said.”
He scowled. Why was Razael sending Laylah into the nursery? What
purpose could that serve but exactly the one Asa didn’t want—the two of
them, Molly and Laylah, mixing company.
Molly stepped out from behind him. “It might be better to have a female
guard,” she said, not at all helping his situation. She gestured back to Eden,
still curled in the chair and vacant-eyed. “Maybe it would help Eden.”
Laylah peered around Asa’s shoulder at Eden. “How many pregnant
humans did you bring back?” Then she stared him full in the face. “Are you
banging all of them, making up for lost time?”
Asa glared at her with anger he didn’t think possible. If she hadn’t just
recently saved his life, he’d already have his blade at her neck.
She smirked at his seething discomfort, tempting him to do it anyway.
Molly coughed dramatically behind him. “Um… okay. I’m standing right
here, you know.”
Laylah turned a feline smile to Molly. “So you are.”
Molly gave her a strange look like she was confused or perhaps annoyed.
Maybe jealous? No, Asa was certain that was his own raging embarrassment
and Wrath.
Molly spread her hands, making peace. “Look, for the record, I don’t
know who Asa’s banging, but it’s not me. The angeling I fucked was someone
else entirely.” She slid a look to Asa that sliced right through him.
This conversation couldn’t end soon enough.
“But,” Molly continued, “I do like the idea of having a female angeling
guard. My friend, Eden, has been through hell and back and the fewer dicks
around her, the better.”
A smile bloomed on Laylah’s face then just grew. “Okay, I like her,” she
said to Asa.
“How wonderful.” Asa managed not to snarl.
“Glad we got that sorted,” Molly said. “I just think—oh!” Alarm lit her
face, then her hand flew to her belly. “I… uh…” She rubbed the small bump
of child within her. “Oh!” she said again. Her eyes went wide.
“What is it?” All the breath rushed out of Asa. He dropped to one knee in
front of her, both hands cradling her belly, and intently scanned the child’s
soul within. There was nothing he could see wrong. He peered up at her. “Are
you all right?”
A look of wonder had taken hold of her. “Yeah…” A small smile tugged at
the corner of her lips. “It was just… I think it was… there!”
Something moved under his hands. Asa leaned back and stared wide-eyed
at her belly. “Was that—” Then it happened again. Unmistakable. The child
within was jutting some small foot or hand… and Asa felt it with his own
hand.
Molly laid her hand on top of his and moved it slightly left. “There.”
He felt it again. A tiny tap. Molly’s hand on his. The life inside her. Her
touch… he wanted to kiss her hand, her belly… and so much more.
“So that’s how it is.” Laylah’s voice was tight.
Asa cleared his throat and hastened to stand. He glared at Laylah, but
there was no erasing the knowledge from her face. She knew. Better than any
angeling in the Regiment, she knew his heart, she knew his past, and she
could see things that were plain for anyone to see… and many that escaped all
others. Was that why Razael sent her? Because he knew Asa’s love might
bring him to violate the one rule the angel had laid down for all others? I
know the humans are enticing, Razael had said. But you can resist.
Asa wasn’t sure he could.
“Razael sent me to summon you,” Laylah said stiffly.
Was it a lie? Asa would bet blood on it.
“I’ll go to him as soon as I’m finished—”
“He wants you now,” Laylah said more lightly, as if it mattered not to her,
one way or the other. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep Molly and the others company.”
That was precisely what he was worried about. “They don’t need—”
“It’s okay,” Molly interrupted him. “I want Laylah to stay. She’d make a
good guard inside the nursery. I mean, you’re worried about security, right?”
She shrugged as if it were the most obvious and natural thing that Laylah
should stay with them.
Laylah smiled.
 Asa ground his teeth. To Molly, he said, “I’ll be back shortly.” For Laylah,
he had only a glare.
She stuck her tongue out at him. As if this were just their normal games.
He contained his bitter retort, turned on his heel, and marched out the
nursery door.

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 Chapter Sixteen

S O ANGELINGS WERE JUST AS FUCKED UP ABOUT LOVE AS HUMANS .

Huh. Molly should have seen that coming.
Given their perfect beauty and all their power and the whole magic thing,
somehow she assumed that angelings got what they wanted—that certainly
was true in getting it from humans. Elyon was an angel, and he definitely got
whatever he wanted, from humans and angelings alike. The angeling who
rocked Molly’s bed for a night, got her pregnant, then disappeared sure got
what he wanted. She figured Micah did too since he fucked Ren whenever he
liked and did nothing to free her. But maybe the thing Micah really wanted
wasn’t sex and wasn’t something he could actually have—keeping Ren and
the baby. And this female angeling standing in front of her—Laylah
—obviously wanted Asa in a bad way, and she wasn’t getting him, either.
Not even close.
And wow, that was pissing her off.
There was something between them, Molly just wasn’t sure what. And
while Asa was insanely hot and super kind to her and was trying hard to take
care of her and her baby—him on his knees with the baby moving just about
melted her heart—the truth was something darker than the glittering
brightness of this nursery he built.
I can’t take that risk! he’d shouted at her. As if she were a child or a pet he
had to keep safe at all costs… no matter what she wanted. No matter that all
this was simply a beautiful prison. She didn’t know what this was truly about
for him, but it definitely wasn’t love.
 As for this Laylah person—was she in love with Asa? Or was this whole
song and dance in the nursery just some petty jealousy?
Either way that could be her ticket out.
All those thoughts tumbled through her head while Laylah and Asa
fought. Then he stormed out and now was her chance.
“So, Asa’s pretty hot, huh?” Molly had to peer up at Laylah—she was as
tall as Asa and just as beautiful, too. He was kind of an idiot for not going for
it with her.
“He certainly seems to see something in you.” Laylah’s voice was cool,
but her gaze was a hot blade slicing through Molly, taking apart her soul for
inspection. Which gave her that naked feeling again, only this time, it sent a
chill down her spine. At the same time, those crazy flutters in her stomach
started up—because part of her wanted Asa on his knees, worshipping her
body for real like he had been just moments before.
“Whatever Asa thinks he wants from me,” Molly said, “he’s not going to
get it.”
Laylah’s eyebrows lifted. “Maybe that’s why he wants you.”
That made Molly squirm. If Asa had issues, she might feel sorry for him,
but she had problems of her own. Serious ones. And she had to think of her
and the baby first.
“Well, once I’m out of the way,” Molly said, “you’ll be there to mop up
the pieces.”
Laylah’s cool aloofness disappeared, a sudden concern rushing in its
place. “What do you mean out of the way?”
“I want out of this place.” Molly figured saying it plainly was best. “You
want me out of the picture. Seems like we should be able to work something
out.”
Realization dawned on Laylah’s face in degrees, one after the other. “You
want me to…” Then her eyebrows crashed down into a scowl, and she flicked
a look at Ren and Eden.
Ren was hanging back, playing with the babies. If she overheard them,
she wasn’t giving any indication. And Eden was still out of it. Molly wanted
to help them, too, but if Asa was telling the truth, then they really couldn’t
leave the protection of Razael’s Regiment.
 But she could.
“The others have to stay,” Molly said. “But I’m a nobody. I can disappear,
raise my baby, and if I do this right, I’ll never have to see another of your kind
again. Except for the one I raise. And I’ll just have to do my best with that.”
How the hell she would manage that was beyond her imagination at the
moment, but her dad was right—Bitters aren’t quitters. She would figure it
out.
“You think you can survive without our protection?” Laylah seemed
concerned for Molly’s sanity.
“I think I can hide well enough. Then you get to have Asa all to yourself.”
Molly gave a shrug. “If you’d get in trouble for it, or something, just take me
to Ariel. She’ll get me out.”
Laylah gave her a pinched look. “Ariel has given her vow to Razael.”
That hit her unexpectedly hard. Already the girl had caved to staying
here? Molly squared her shoulders. “Guess it’ll have to be you, then.” It
would be difficult in the human world for Ariel anyway—Molly could see
why she would stay in this one. And for the exact same reason Molly had to
leave. She just didn’t belong here.
Laylah took her time in answering, a series of concerned expressions
flitting across her face.
Molly held her breath. Maybe she’d pushed too fast.
Finally, Laylah said, “So you don’t love him?”
That flushed heat into her face. Everyone she’d loved had died—her first
boyfriend, then her parents. After that… just surviving was what she did best.
Love was entirely optional, and dangerous besides, given her bad luck. Could
she even love someone? “How can I love someone who’s holding me
prisoner?” That was the immutable fact of this whole crazy thing. She bit her
lip, waiting to see what Laylah thought of that.
She nodded, but she was frowning, too. Finally, she said, “I’ll help you,
Molly. But I’ll need some time to work it out.”
Relief gushed through her. “Thank you.” And she meant it with every part
of her being. She didn’t press for how long it would take—she honestly didn’t
see why they would wait at all—but Laylah surely wanted her out of Asa’s
world just as much as Molly did. “You know where to find me.”
 Then she caught Ren watching them from across the room.
She’d better go explain how things were about to change. When she’d
said they were sisters and they had to stick together… she meant it. Really
meant it. She loved Eden and Ren like they were the real sisters she never
had, but she couldn’t do anything for them now… and staying here would kill
her inside.
Molly had to get out—she only hoped Ren wouldn’t try to stop her.

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 Chapter Seventeen

“Y OU WANTED TO SEE ME ?” A SA ASKED THE QUESTION BEFORE HE WAS EVEN

fully inside Razael’s throne room.
The angel was meeting with three of his top lieutenants—they had taken
over while Asa had gone on his mission to recruit Micah. Now that he was
back, he’d been occupied with making the Regiment habitable for the women.
He’d hardly even tracked what was going on with the war—but it was
obviously still in full swing.
Razael raised a finger for Asa to wait.
“I can come back.” In Truth, he didn’t want to be there at all.
Razael didn’t answer, just continued to consult with his angelings in
hushed tones. The war was growing dire, but Elyon had yet to make a strike
against Razael’s Regiment—which Asa surely would have known, had it
happened. Losses were mounting on both sides, and the humans were making
further progress with their infernal machine that crossed dimensions. All of
this was vitally important to the war effort, yet Asa found his attention
drifting… to Molly and her softly-rounded belly. He’d touched her—purely
out of reflex, but it had happened, and now the sensation was lodged firmly in
his mind. The fullness of her belly. The tiny, perfect being inside making his
presence known. It was a boy! Something he’d not discerned before but
which was now apparent. Somehow that made the child even more real. And
Asa couldn’t help thinking how Molly’s belly would have felt in his hands
without the soft cotton of her blouse between his flesh and hers. Perhaps with
the green dress—
 A rustle of sound snapped his attention back to Razael and the cohort at
the throne. They were staring at him.
Fuck. “Yes, my lord?”
Razael just smiled and flicked his finger—all three of the other angelings
twisted away.
“I have a question for you.” Razael was regarding him in that penetrating
way angels had when they were examining your soul.
“All right.” His mind flicked to the possibilities. Another assignment?
Possibly away from the Regiment? He squelched the panic that came with
that.
“Perhaps you would like to keep the red-haired human permanently in
your cell.” Razael’s gaze was intense.
Asa squirmed under it. “That’s not a question, my lord.” What was he
getting at? “And as it happens, I’ve moved her to the nursery with the others,
now that it’s ready.”
“That’s all that was restraining you?” It was far more pointed than Asa
wanted to hear.
“I was… waiting until she was ready.” Why was he even bothering to lie
to an angel?
Razael tilted his head, the barest disapproval, but Asa felt it like the strike
of a blade.
“Until I was ready,” he admitted. “If that is all, be assured that all three
women are now settled. Although I still believe separating them is prudent—”
“Asa.”
“My lord?” He really should never withhold Truth from an angel, but he
could count his Sins later.
Razael beckoned him closer, and Asa reluctantly stepped forward. The
angel could mete out whatever punishment he wanted at a distance, but Asa
feared it was something worse than that. His mind flicked again to being
ordered away from the Regiment—maybe Zuriel needed reinforcements
against Elyon’s Wrath? His mind skittered away from that thought.
“You have an attachment to the red-haired one,” Razael said softly.
“Her name is Molly.” He was far too bristled by that.
“Molly.” Razael smiled. “If you wish to keep her in your room, I’ll make
an exception to the rules I’m imposing on the others. No explanation will be
necessary. The rumors have already caught hold that you have been smitten
by her.”
Asa struggled for a moment—there was no point in denying his heart at
this point—so he simply said, “She does not wish it.”
Razael’s eyebrows lifted. “Are you certain of that?”
“I’m already holding her against her will,” he said bitterly. “I’m not going
to charm her into my bed so she may hate me further.”
“Ah. I see.” But the angel seemed to see more than just Asa’s words. Then
Razael’s gaze lifted to behind him.
Asa turned to see Laylah striding into the throne room. He frowned,
unsure whether to object that she’d abandoned her guard post at the nursery or
to be glad. She and Razael exchanged nods, which threw a warning off in the
back of Asa’s mind.
“Why are you here?” he demanded of her.
“To warn you?” Her annoyed expression was typical Laylah. She glanced
at Razael again. To his raised eyebrow, she shook her head. It became clear
some conspiracy was afoot between them. Not that Razael couldn’t do as he
pleased—the Regiment and all its angelings belonged to him—but usually,
Asa was in the center of such planning.
“Warn me of what?” he asked, his voice tight. “And what is going on
here?”
Laylah sighed and turned to face him fully. “That human you’re in love
with? She just tried to get me to spring her loose.”
“What?” He wasn’t shocked that Molly wished it—that was no surprise
—but that she would go to Laylah.
Laylah shook her head. “I’m sorry, Asa.”
“You’re not… going to…” His outrage was so complete he could barely
speak.
Laylah put up one hand to stop his sputtering and lay the other on her
blade. “Don’t get excited. I wouldn’t be telling you if I planned to toss her out
in the human world, now would I? Not that I’m not tempted.”
She relaxed when his visible tension ramped down.
“I love you, Asa,” she said. “Truly I do. That’s why I’m telling you—
you’ve got a problem with that one.”
Asa ran a hand through his hair, panic leaving his body in small, short
breaths. “I know.” He searched the floor for a moment. What could he do to
keep her? He’d tried everything he could think, conjure, or borrow. When he
looked up, both Razael and Laylah were giving him painful looks of pity. “I’ll
speak to her,” he said tersely. “If we are finished, my lord?”
Razael nodded, but the look of pity followed Asa out of the throne room.
All the way back to the nursery, Asa beat his fist against his forehead, but
no thoughts were shaken loose. How could he make Molly see? How could he
convince her she was safer here—that it wasn’t a prison, it was a safehouse…
But nothing came to him.
When he charged through the nursery door, he had no plan or even any
idea what he might say.
Molly and Ren turned quickly, startled by his sudden entrance—they each
held one of the babies.
“Can I speak to you?” His voice was strained.
Molly scowled and set the baby in the crib. Ren’s frown followed her
over.
Molly stood in front of him, arms crossed. “What do you want?”
For her to want to stay? That was really the sum total of it. The pain inside
his chest said he would never have that. Never. The next best thing would be
simply convincing her she couldn’t escape.
“Can we talk in private?” He held out his hand.
She stared at it a beat too long. “Where are you taking me?” She glanced
back to Ren, who had also set down the baby she was holding, now on high
alert.
He sighed. “Just to my cell.” He raised his voice for Ren. “She’ll return
shortly.”
Molly pressed her lips together, judging his outstretched hand.
How foolish was he? Thinking he could win her heart? Thinking that
simply providing a few necessary things might make the Regiment a home—
one where she would want to stay?
He could hardly convince her to take his hand.
But she finally did.
 He twisted and brought her with him back to his cell. It was crowded with
the bathroom he’d conjured, and his thin-mat bed, which now held the bag of
her clothes and a leftover tray from breakfast. Simple things. A vibrant
woman like Molly would want so much more out of life than these. How had
he not seen that before?
“Laylah told me,” he said, dragging his gaze up to meet hers.
Her eyes went wide.
“You can’t leave, Molly.” The words were dead in his mouth. Truth… but
still dead.
She took a half step back, glancing around as if looking for a secret door
to escape. “Why did you bring me back here?” There was fear in her voice.
It gutted him, poisoned him from the inside out, like a blade of light
magic.
“Not to hurt you.” The exasperation showed in his voice. “I’m trying to
protect you. That’s all I’m trying to do. That’s all I want.”
“What about what I want!” She stepped forward again. Her anger, the
tremble of her lip, the fear that kept her eyes wide and full… all of it felt like
body blows. “Or am I just a thing to you? A delicate vase that might break
and has to be protected? Guarded and locked up and given nice toys and
treats, all so I don’t remember that I have a life. Had a life. Before this. And
now that’s all been taken away because I made one mistake…” The trembling
lip was turning into tears, and it was shredding his heart into bloody pieces.
“One mistake and a whole lot of bad luck, and now I’m stuck here in hell
with no chance of parole? Ever? I can’t live forever in this place, Asa!”
“You won’t live at all outside it, Ellie!” He shook his fist toward the door.
“It’s not safe! Don’t you see?”
“What?” Her fear dissolved into confusion.
“I’m trying to save you,” he insisted. How could she not see this? How
could she not know it to be true?
“What did you call me?” Her green eyes were blazing at him now.
He squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them again. “You have to trust
me. Please. I won’t let anything happen to you—”
“Who the hell is Ellie?”
A jolt went through him, like a bolt of lightning had struck him where he
stood. Ellie… what had Laylah told her? Why was Molly asking… then he
heard his own words again.
Fuck. He closed his eyes, squeezed them shut, then backed up against the
door. The solid hum on his back. The reassuring solidity of it there.
Tell her. He had to. He would explain it all… then… maybe she would
understand.
He opened his eyes. “Ellie’s the only woman I’ve ever loved.” Until you.
But he kept that part locked away, a burden he alone would bear for the rest of
time. Because none of this would turn out well if he told her. Not now.
Molly’s eyes went wide again, but she just stared at him, waiting.
“I was on walkabout.” His voice went suddenly raspy. “She was alluring
like nothing I’d ever known. Funny and bright like a flower and incandescent
as the sun. I loved her from the first moment I saw her, but she was forbidden,
you see. Back when I was in the light with wings of white and full of garbage
ideas about Sin. I knew nothing of Sin… except that in her presence, I lusted
and loved and laughed with every fiber of my being.” For a moment, his
voice left him. He’d not let himself go there for so long, his thoughts lost in
the good days before the bad.
“What happened?” Molly whispered. She’d inched closer.
His back was against the wall, or he’d put more space between them. The
Siren Call of her shining Virtues was even louder now… now that she was
full of concern for him and his tale of woe and broken souls. “She was
savaged by a shadow angeling. I was gone…” He choked out a wretched
laugh. “I was contemplating whether I should stay and try to love her. As if I
wasn’t already hopelessly lost.”
Molly’s eyes were luminous, peering into his.
He looked away. “When I returned, she was with child. A shadowling
forced himself upon her, violating her and leaving a piece of himself inside
her to grow and grow.” The Wrath surged up, as predictable as the sun. He
wrestled it back down. Then he turned his pain-dulled gaze to Molly. “I
promised to protect her. You see, they always come back for the child. To
build their armies. It was one of Elyon’s angelings, and I knew they’d return.”
Horror lit Molly’s face. “Did they take her?”
“No.” He let a small snort escape him. “That was the one thing I managed.
I fought them and their shadow blades back with mine made of light. I
vanquished them. But it didn’t matter.”
“Why not?” The horror was gone, but she’d inched closer again, and he
could hardly bear the brilliance of her Compassion and concern.
“Because I saved her from them, but not from herself.” He pulled in a
shuddering breath. The bath filled with blood. The glazed and lifeless
expression on her face. It haunted him still, seizing him when he least
expected it. “She took her own life. They’d broken her, and she couldn’t bear
to carry one of them inside her.”
Molly’s gaze dropped to the floor. She said nothing, just rested a hand on
her belly.
“I told her,” he insisted. “The baby is a new soul. Bright-shining and pure.
Nothing like the beast who raped her.”
Molly looked up and nodded. “It’s not the baby’s fault.”
“No.” He gave her all the smile he could muster. It wasn’t much. “It’s not
the baby’s fault. It’s mine. I couldn’t…” He squeezed his eyes shut, pushing
through the pain of the Truth. “I didn’t love her the way she needed. I didn’t
know how.” He opened his eyes again. “And when I wasn’t looking… her life
bled away down a drain.”
Molly’s eyes went round and shining again. “Oh, Asa. I’m so sorry.” Her
Virtues, if they were any brighter, might blind him.
And in that instant, he saw it. A small shift in angle cutting the glare so he
could see past the bright-shining surface to the depths inside. Molly was a
soul who couldn’t be caged. Ellie’s death was a death of the soul long before
it was a death of the body. It wasn’t the assault that killed her. It wasn’t even
carrying the rapist’s child. It was knowing she could escape none of it. The
shadow realm would always want her. The child would always be with her. It
was the fact that they returned for her, and would do so again, and again and
again… Asa himself had told her so, in his desperate desire to keep her safe…
and it had destroyed her.
He couldn’t let that happen to Molly.
“I have something I need to do.” His words were a whisper.
“What?” As if she hadn’t heard him correctly.
He smiled. She was close enough now, so he brushed the back of his
fingers against the infinite smoothness of her cheek—like he had before when
he was in the throes of fighting his Lust. That one touch was all he’d ever
have with her, but it was everything now—a simple touch, but it held all this
love. A promise.
This time, he’d do it right.
“Wait for me,” was all he said.
Then he twisted away and left her in his room.

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 Chapter Eighteen

A SA JUST … DISAPPEARED .
Wait for me, he said. As if she could do anything else, locked away in his
cell. But then, when he didn’t return, for an hour and then two… she tried the
door. There was no door handle or obvious way to open it, but when she
pushed on it, it easily slid open.
She jumped back.
Wide-eyed, she peered into the hallway. There was no one there. Then she
crept out and tip-toed on her bare feet down the hall. Maybe she could find
Laylah. Or Ariel. Or get someone else to whisk her away. She knew better
than to think she could simply walk out of hell and into downtown Seattle—it
took magic to get there.
Then an angeling strode into the hallway… and stopped short. He stared
at her and her at him—then he disappeared. He didn’t even turn around and
go back the way he came—he did the magic traveling thing to get out of there
as fast as he could.
She skittered back to Asa’s cell and closed the door.
And waited.
He’d left the door open for her—why? Did he just forget?
And that story he told her… her heart broke for him. She understood now
why he couldn’t let her go. He was haunted by this woman he had loved. Just
thinking about the story was making her pace again in Asa’s tiny cell. Eden
was broken like Ellie—more so, actually, because it hadn’t just happened
once. But Molly wasn’t like that—sure, she carried the baby of an angeling
who she’d known for about twelve hours and whose conversation consisted
mostly of grunts and ecstatic cursing. But that was a mistake, not a trauma.
She wasn’t going to take her life over it. It was being caged like an animal—a
pampered animal, a delicate pet, but still a thing—that was slowly eating her
from the inside out. She hadn’t realized how much it had affected her until
she’d had those hours of freedom in her apartment—her and Eden and Ren,
and even Ariel and the babies, all imagining a future for themselves.
Suddenly, she had a family and a life—even better than her endless days
scrabbling on the corporate ladder at her old job with few friends and nothing
close to family.
And then it had been ripped away. Again.
Back to the box for her.
Just when she had something good happen in her life, Lady Bad Luck had
struck again.
Molly had blamed Asa for that. And while he was keeping her locked up
in Razael’s Regiment, she could see now that he really couldn’t help it—he
was heart-broken and keeping her safe was somehow like saving the woman
he couldn’t save before. A woman he loved. The way he talked about her…
that had been the hardest to listen to. That kind of love. She’d never had
anything like it. Watching his lips speak those love-filled words, seeing it in
his eyes, she felt burning-hot jealousy of a woman she’d never known and
who was already dead.
It would be crazy if it hadn’t left her so shaken.
Like she’d just discovered a hole inside herself.
And that hole just grew bigger the longer Asa was gone.
Their time together had been short and insane… but it had been real.
More real than any of the flit-in, flit-out boyfriends she’d had. The angeling
who got her pregnant was a substantially better lover than those guys, but he
wasn’t much different otherwise—just another superficial good time, then he
quickly moved on. They all did, although not always in a single night. If she
were honest, there was a reason for it. She used to think maybe her hair was
too red or her thighs too plump, or maybe her humor was just a little off.
Maybe she was too boring—she did have an extensive collection of cat
figurines—but in the end, it was really just one thing. They ended it because
she’d never let it start. If she did, then maybe Lady Bad Luck would take
them, just like everyone she’d ever loved.
Whenever Asa finally came back—he had to come back, right?—she’d
tell him the truth. That she understood why he was keeping her locked up for
safekeeping. That she got it—she’d locked away a part of herself years ago
and never let it go free again. That was why she was so desperate to leave this
insane magical place, no matter how pretty he made it—because this literal
cage was far too close to the one she’d built for herself long ago.
And that wasn’t his fault.
She didn’t know if it would make a difference—but she wanted him to
know. He’d bared his heart to her, and it only seemed fair to do the same. She
wanted to—as if telling him would fill up a bit of that hole she’d just
discovered. And maybe it would help him, somehow, to know that, in a way,
he’d already set her free.
So she waited.
And waited.
She was actually getting hungry and was almost tempted to venture out in
search of food, but she didn’t want to miss him when he came back. So,
instead, she lay down on the thin cot that comprised his bed and stared at the
ceiling—like she’d done those endless days in Elyon’s nursery. Only this
time, she had something good to daydream about. Something to look forward
to, even if it was only Asa returning so she could tell him she understood.
After a while, she closed her eyes.
She pictured him coming to her with a chocolate croissant and that earnest
look—like he hoped she would like it. She would tell him it was delicious and
lick her lips and probably think naughty thoughts about him. In her fantasy,
she could even tell him how delicious he was, with those deep brown eyes
and smoldering hot muscles. Then he’d look at her like he did when she wore
the green dress, all heat and fire and want. He’d touch her cheek, and she’d
tell him then—that maybe it wasn’t a cage if he was in it with her—and the
soft stroke of his fingers against her skin wouldn’t stop at her chin. He’d trace
a slow, sensual line down her body, making her melt into a puddle of
throbbing, needy womanhood. And then he’d—
“Molly.”
 She gasped in air, her body still heavy with sleep or she probably would
have screamed.
“Are you all right?” He hovered over her, peering down with such
concern that all she could do was nod, vigorously.
She swallowed down the dryness in her mouth—God, was she drooling in
her sleep??—and croaked out, “I’m fine.”
He eased back and beckoned her to sit up. “Are you ready?”
She frowned. “Ready for what?”
He gave her a smile, but it was a sad one. And he didn’t explain, just
offered his hand to her. So, they were going back to the nursery, then. But she
didn’t want to go just yet—she wanted to tell him! That she understood!
“Wait.” She swung her legs off the bed so she could face him more easily.
He was down on one knee to check on her. “I want to tell you something.”
He offered his hand again. “Let me show you something first.” And he
had that hopeful look again. It was literally impossible for her to say no. So
she put her hand in his warm, soft one—and suddenly, they were whisked
away from his cell…
…and into darkness. And she was busy falling backward given the cot
she’d been sitting on had just disappeared, but Asa’s strong hold on her hand
and his other hand suddenly at her back lifted her to standing. Then she was
pressed up against him, in the dark, her baby bump leaned against the hard
muscles of his stomach. His chest labored as he seemed to breathe harder than
necessary.
He eased back and released her. She missed his touch immediately.
Then the lights came on.
It took a moment for her eyes to adjust. Asa had moved away and was
whispering something nearby. She blinked, and the room came into focus.
They were in a cozy but elegant living room with a high ceiling—a stone
fireplace against one wall, a white faux-fur rug on the wooden floor in front,
and a cream-colored couch facing it. The rest of the room held a pair of
chairs, a small table, a TV screen against one wall, and… a whole collection
of cat figurines on the bookcase? That was strange.
Asa was making bizarre gestures at the door and speaking in a language
she didn’t understand. What in the world?
 But as she glanced around the rest of the apartment—a tiny kitchen
peeked from one end and at the other was a darkened hallway leading away to
what was probably the bedroom—she realized… this looked just like the
human world.
“What’s going on?” she breathed, half amazement, half actual question.
Asa finished whatever he was doing at the door and returned to her, eyes
alight. “Do you like it?”
This was for her. He conjured an entire apartment. She let out a small
laugh then clapped her hands over her mouth. “You did this for me?” She ran
her gaze over everything again, and it snagged on a picture. Of her parents.
“How did you do this?” She strode over to pick it up. It was an exact replica
of the one from her apartment. And the cat figures… they were hers. She held
the picture frame to her chest and turned to him—he had followed her over,
that hopeful look in his eyes tinged with worry. “Did you go to my
apartment?” she asked.
“Is that all right?” The worry quickly took over.
All right? It was so thoughtful… Tears were stinging the back of her eyes.
She nodded quickly.
“I can… I can take them back…” He looked alarmed and confused.
She laughed—just a small snort—then ducked her head to wipe her eyes.
“No, it’s perfect.” Then she sniffed. She should tell him. Right now. But then
something else caught her eye—a window to the side of the fireplace. The
blinds were mostly closed, but sunlight was sneaking through.
Sunlight.
She set down the frame and dashed over to it. The blind mechanism was a
mystery, so she just pulled the blinds apart. Bustling downtown Seattle
winked sunlight at her—off cars and windows and the water in the distance.
Holy shit.
She turned back to Asa, letting the blinds fall closed. “We’re on earth.”
He smiled. “I thought you’d figure that out right away.” Her mouth was
hanging open as he closed the distance between them. “You couldn’t stay at
your place, but the light angelings helped me find another one for you, not too
far away. I’ve conjured wards around the walls—no angeling can pass
through them, not even the baby, so you’ll need to lower and raise them
whenever you want to go out.”
The tears were nearly bursting from her eyes. “You’re letting me go.”
His expression twisted with a kind of pain. “I had no right to keep you,
Molly.”
Her breath hitched, and she wanted to say something, but it was all she
could do to keep the tears in.
Then sadness stole onto his face. “You won’t be rid of me entirely. I just
can’t…” He swallowed. “I can’t let anything happen to you. I hope you can
understand, I’m just not capable of… of leaving you.”
He grimaced as he said it, but her heart was soaring.
Then he rushed out, “But you needn’t even know I’m here. I’ll be your
Guardian. A dark guardian, granted, riddled with Sin and living in shadow,
but I will watch over and protect you and make sure no harm comes to you or
the baby. I promise, I will always be nearby if you need anything. But you
won’t have to see me, and maybe, in time, you can even forget I’m here. I’ll
be cloaked, so… you’ll be free to live as you please.”
Then he disappeared.
She jolted. “Asa!” she called out in a panic, flinging her hands out where
he had been a second ago. They met the solid form of his body—she couldn’t
see him, but she could feel him. “Asa.” Her hands flattened against his chest
—she could feel him flinch under it, hear him gasp—and then her hands
suddenly had minds of their own, feeling his body, her fingers gently seeking
his face. “You’re invisible,” she gasped.
“Cloaked.” His voice was so strained. He reappeared under her fingertips,
and she was so close to him…
She reflexively dropped her hands and stepped back.
His face was writ with torment. “You won’t have to see me, but you and
the baby will be safe—I’ll make sure of it. You will be free, Molly. To come
and go, as you like. You won’t even know I’m here…” His face was twisting
even more.
It was drawing her closer. “But that’s like… like a cage for you.”
He laughed, but it seemed pained. “It would only be fair if it were.” His
smile dimmed. “One less angeling in the war won’t make a difference. And
Razael’s given his leave. But staying here isn’t the hard part.”
 “No?” She eased closer still. Her hands wanted to be back on his body,
her fingers exploring his face. “What’s the hard part?”
Then that look was back. The one the green dress blazed onto his face.
“Looking but not touching,” he breathed.
Her heart leaped. She reached a trembling hand to his face. His skin was
hot under her fingertips. “Then maybe you should touch,” she whispered.
His eyes half closed, and she was close enough to feel the shudder that
went through him. “That’s not what you want.”
“I think I’m the one to decide that.” Then she lifted up on her toes, her
baby bump pressing into his belly as her lips sought his, her hands pulling his
cheeks down. He melted into her, his hands already on her body—one around
the small of her back, one in her hair—but his lips stopped just before
meeting hers.
“Are you sure?” he breathed against her.
She was sure she’d combust if he didn’t. “Kiss me, dammit.” She tried to
reach up further, but she couldn’t reach him if he didn’t want to be reached.
Then it was like a dam broke. His lips crashed down onto hers, his hand in
her hair fisting and tilting her head, angling it so he could possess her mouth
like he was starving for it. She opened automatically for him, and he kissed
her, groaning in such a deeply animalistic way that every nerve ending in her
body lit up. He pressed into her, curving his body around her firm belly
between them, and she could feel his even more firm cock rising. His tongue
entered her mouth like it belonged to him, tangling with hers, devouring her,
touching every part of her inside, as if this were his one and only chance to
taste her, and he wasn’t leaving a single inch untouched. With her mouth
thoroughly claimed, he moved to touch her face, first with his lips on hers
then on her cheeks and her eyelids, then his hands followed, cupping her face,
holding her chin, tilting it to consume her jawline one devouring kiss at a
time.
She couldn’t breathe.
She couldn’t think.
She’d never felt so desired in her entire life.
“Oh, God, Asa.” Wetness was pooling between her legs as fast as the heat
was setting her panties on fire. She’d never wanted a man like she wanted this
man—this impossible, gentle, sexy man who had given up everything to give
her the one thing she needed.
Then suddenly, he pulled back, breath ragged against her face. “Molly.”
There was such ache in his voice. “I’ve never…” He panted and pulled back,
searched her eyes.
She shook like she might come apart if he didn’t keep going. “What is it?”
she gasped.
“I have such need.” His face was tortured. “And you are so… delicate and
beautiful and…” His hand dropped to caress her belly, and it was such a
gentle thing, it nearly made her cry. “I’ve never done this,” he whispered then
looked into her eyes.
Oh, God. An angeling virgin? “Then let me help you with that.” Oh dear
God in heaven, she would explode with the sexiness of this man.
“I fear I might hurt you.” His eyes were a little wild.
And if she had any fear, any tiny trace, it would have shown itself in that
moment. But she knew without question that Asa would be the most gentle,
loving, and insanely sexy man she’d ever had. And a hard door closed in her
mind, saying, This is it. This is what you’ve been waiting for your entire life.
Grab hold of this Good Luck and don’t let go.
“You won’t hurt me.” She pressed his hand tighter to her belly and
grabbed his other hand in hers, walking backward toward the couch. “But if
you don’t make love to me this instant, I might have to hurt you.”
A tiny laugh escaped him, then it faded as she led him to the couch.
“Clothes first,” she breathed. She thrummed with excitement. Not just the
burning hot desire to have him between her legs, but the idea of it—that she
would be his first. That he’d been so broken all this time, and she was the one
to bring him to life again. And with the bulge in his rough leather pants, he
was definitely full of life—and she wanted him to fill her with it. With him.
With love. She wanted everything—all of it—all he had to give her.
She lifted her blouse over her head and dropped it to the floor. Her chest
was all pinked up like she was on fire, but she didn’t care in the slightest.
With a flick of his fingers… his clothes disappeared.
Holy mother of God. She just gaped at him. If there was ever a body that
was male perfection, it was Asa. Rippling muscles, hard cut from his
shoulders to the V that slashed across his belly and pointed to his insanely
well-endowed cock. Like… she literally had never been with someone that
big. She wanted to touch it so badly her mouth ached.
But before she could, Asa was on her.
His mouth clamped hard onto one of her nipples, and she nearly cried out,
the spike of pleasure was so hard. His hand grasped her other breast, rough
and needy, and that pulsed straight to the heat between her legs. Then he
stopped that exquisite torture to kneel down and lavish soft kisses and tender
caresses on her belly. Oh God, he was killing her with that.
“Asa, please,” she begged, already out of her mind with want for him.
He peered up at her with those fierce brown eyes. “Tell me what to do.”
His voice was rough.
“Take off…” She sucked in air. “…my clothes.” Lord, she was going to
hyperventilate through this.
His eyes feasted on her flesh as his fingers quickly undid the buttons on
her shorts and slid them down. She was bare underneath … and soaking wet.
He looked at her with lost eyes, like he didn’t know what to do next.
She would teach him later—she would teach him all the things, every way
to pleasure her—but right now, she just needed to have him. To possess him.
As if he might run away and be a figment of her imagination if she didn’t
climb aboard that impressive cock right this moment and ride him until they
both exploded.
“On the couch,” she gasped. “Sit.”
He blinked then climbed on the couch beside them. His eyes were hooded,
that burning lust transforming his face into pure carnality, and she could not
wait to have him inside her. His eyes went wide as she climbed on top of him,
straddling him, her knees pressing into the couch as she hovered over the
towering erection in his lap.
She grabbed hold, sliding her hand quickly down the shaft, just one quick
stroke.
“Agh!” he croaked out, his eyes falling shut, his mouth falling open. Then
he sucked in air and opened his eyes to blaze them at her. “Holy fuck, Molly.”
She grinned. “Yes. That’s exactly what it’s going to be.”
He was shuddering again, his fists clenched at his sides on the couch. She
stroked him again—so silky yet so hard, holy God—and he groaned through
gritted teeth.
“Put your hands on me,” she panted.
He fluttered them around her shoulders, then her breasts, not seeming to
know what to do with them. Then she angled herself and his enormous cock,
so he was just grazing her entrance. She was poised above him, dripping wet,
so, so ready for him. His eyes were wide and fixed on where they were nearly
joined. She wished she could see it like he could, but she could only feel him
there, nudging, promising—her baby bump blocked her view. So she watched
his eyes instead as she slowly lowered herself down, impaling her body on the
massiveness that was him. The way his eyes widened, the gasping of his
mouth, the near choking sound he made as she took him inside her—he was
so fucking big!—was the most erotic thing she’d ever seen in her life. She
took it slow—painfully slow, deliciously slow—watching the full evolution of
shock, pleasure, more shock and inexpressible lust dance across his face. And
when she was fully seated, she had to grasp onto his shoulders and just hold
for a moment, adjusting to the size of him so fully inside her.
His eyes sought hers, and they were so filled with love she thought she
might break.
His hands stopped their fluttering and finally found a home, cupping both
her cheeks. “Thank you,” he whispered.
She chirped a laugh, but already the pressure was building. She needed to
move. To ride him. To give this gorgeous angeling the first fuck of his life—
only for her, it would be the first real lovemaking of hers. Because she would
love the hell straight out of this man if he would let her.
“Don’t thank me yet,” she breathed.
But before she could start, he pulled her down for a kiss—a sweet and
tender one that filled her with light—and she nearly cried then, too. But when
he finally released her from that kiss… she lifted up and slid sharply back
down on his cock.
“Fuck!” he cried out. And his hands were instantly on her hips.
She rose again and stroked down—holy fuck, she was so full with him—
and then again and again. Then she was riding him and tipping her head back,
and the gasps and cursing were coming from her mouth now, not just his. He
grasped harder onto her hips, bucking up into her, making the contact slam
harder, and oh God oh God oh God… she was going to come.
She was going to come so hard she thought it might pull her apart. And
when it rose and rose and finally crested, she screamed out and shook, and the
pleasure jolted through her like nothing she’d ever felt before. Asa groaned
and gripped her, bucking his hips and surging up into her as she came, pulsing
fresh pleasure with each stroke. And when she finally slowed her pace
because she just couldn’t… suddenly he was lifting her into the air, holding
them still joined, him still buried deep inside her, but he was now standing
and holding her by the bottom as if she weighed no more than a feather. Then
he slid his hands to cradle her back and her neck, turning her and laying her
back down on the couch. He was on top of her now, deep inside her and
looming over her and blazing those lust-filled eyes at her.
“Did you like that?” his voice was deeply husky.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“No.” But a trembling smile snuck onto his lips. “But I’m not done
fucking you, either.”
Oh god. She nearly came again just with the pulse of pleasure that sent
through her. “Well, get busy then.”
He grinned then pulled back and stroked into her.
“Oh, God.” She was nearly out of air, so it was just a squeak. But holy
fuck, somehow it was even better with him on top, driving into her.
“Is this all right?” he asked as he stroked into her again, harder. “And
this.” Another thrust. “And this.” Another. Harder.
“Fuck. Asa. Yes!” She clung to his shoulders, arching into him, and
crying out his name.
He growled and thrust more, and suddenly he was beset with some kind of
frenzy of thrusting, banging into her already swollen flesh, zinging insane
pleasure through her with each stroke. She was building again, and this time
to a peak soaring so high she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, could do
nothing but hold on to his ever-more-vigorous thrusts… and then she came,
and the world exploded. Pleasure wracked her, and she convulsed with it,
feeling it from her toes to her fingers to every shaking, shuddering part
between.
 Asa cried out and thrust deep, and she could feel him twitching inside her.
His groan was deep and guttural and long, and the sound of it—knowing she
had pleasured him, his first time, and knowing he was lost in the throes of it
so thoroughly—gave her such a feeling of satisfaction it was almost more
potent than the orgasm’s rosy, electric glow.
He sighed, deeply, and stilled.
She wrapped everything around him—hands, feet, arms and legs—and
cradled his head where it was buried, panting into the side of her neck. It
wasn’t just the sex that had her floating in heaven and firmly down to earth,
wrapped up in Asa on her couch. It was the simple fact that he was here,
loving her. Vowing to protect her and the baby. They were a family—a new
family—and it seemed her luck had finally turned good.
“Holy angels of light,” he whispered against her skin.
She wasn’t sure what that meant, but she agreed 100%.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Nineteen

A SA UNDERSTOOD THE DRAW OF THE ORGIES NOW .

Very, very well.
Although this was no mere Lust with Molly—this was something sacred.
His love for her wasn’t just the pull any human had for angelkind. It wasn’t
the beauty of an alluring shadow angeling. It was a connection—it went
beyond just their bodies sliding against and around and inside each other.
It was True Love.
He knew it not only by her sighs and her cries and the pleasure that went
through him with each one—he knew it by the magic. He’d felt it, that first
time—a pulse through magical space that could only be True Love singing its
deep magic to the universe. Did every angeling experience that? He’d only
known a few to have True Love, each unique in their story and circumstance,
and he’d hardly thought to ask, nor in Truth, had the chance.
But he knew it was special. Uniquely for him. Just like Molly.
He’d made love to her, made a study of the music and rhythm of her body,
and was learning how to wrench even more pleasure out of the woman he
loved. His fears vanished in her cries for more, and more he delivered… until
she’d begged for food and rest instead.
Even that made him burst with the kind of Pride that would have caused a
Fall if he weren’t already deep in shadow.
He cared not at all.
He’d given her seventeen orgasms, and he would keep going until he lost
count, and further beyond that. He’d watched her sleep in all her womanly
glory, sated and beautiful, cheeks flushed, lips swollen from their lovemaking.
And now she was rousing from her rest.
He was already hard for her.
“Mmm,” she said as she stretched.
His cock twitched with the sight. “Time to rise, my love.”
“Already?” she said sleepily.
“I cannot wait any longer.”
She blinked open her eyes and smiled at him. It was a wonder that stole
his breath.
“Can’t wait for what?” she asked, smiling wider.
“For you to take a shower.” He’d prepared it for her while she slept.
She frowned. “Do I need one?”
“Absolutely.”
She gave him a quizzical look, but he scooped her up from the bed,
cradling her tender flesh against his naked chest. His cock was dying with the
small brushes against her skin that carrying her this way entailed, but it would
be buried in her soon enough. He brought her to the bathroom, which he’d
altered such that the shower occupied the entire space. You could walk
straight in now, and it had a bench and a half wall—at precisely the right
height for her to brace against and protect that delicious belly of hers while he
pleasured her from behind. He set her down in the middle of the tiles.
“Do you ever get tired of magic?” she asked, eyes full of wonder. “I mean,
the bathroom did not look like a sex palace before.”
He grinned, flicked his fingers, and warm water cascaded down, forming
a shower more like rain. She gave a small shriek, and her nipples pebbled in
the most delicious way, but he was sure it wasn’t too cold as his hands were
already skimming her body, reveling in the softness and the curves and the
heat. She was like a small furnace, his love, and he intended to run her even
hotter.
“I never tire of magic,” he said, sweeping back her already-wet hair and
turning her to brace her hands on top of the half wall. “Just as I never tire of
making love to you.”
“I don’t know if I can—”
But he stopped her protests with a hand slipped between her legs. He
knew just where her pleasure centers were, and as he stroked her with his
fingers, he could tell the wetness wasn’t from the gentle rain on their
shoulders and backs, coating them and making their bodies slick.
“Oh, God, Asa.”
He loved hearing his name on her lips, in the throes of pleasure. He
worked her most sensitive nub with his fingers, eliciting a whimper that urged
him forward. It’d only been a few hours since they last made love, but he was
bursting with need again. He rubbed his cock along her backside, wet and
slippery with water, then couldn’t wait and stroked inside her on the next
thrust.
“Ah!” she shrieked.
“Hold on, my love,” he groaned. “I’ve been dreaming of this for hours
while you slept.” Then he gripped her hips and thrust with abandon. She
whimpered and cried out and quickly reached her peak. She was so hot and
tight and when she came… pulsing all around him, grinding his cock… he
groaned with the mighty pleasure of it. But he didn’t stop. He held back. He
needed to last longer than that.
When he was sure she’d crested and come down, he pulled out and turned
her around. Her heavy-lidded, pleasure-slack expression made him smile. He
kissed her gently on the lips, cupping her wet cheek in his hand.
“I do so love making you come,” he said as he kissed her. Eighteen.
“You’re going to wear me out.”
“I certainly hope so.” He kissed her again then conjured some straps to
hold her.
“What in the—?” The rough leather slid along the wet skin of her bottom.
She peered behind her. “What is this?”
“Something else I’ve been dreaming of.”
She looked back at him with wide eyes, but he just grabbed hold of her
luscious bottom and lifted her until her legs were over his hips, and her wet
heat against his aching cock. The straps dangled from the ceiling but now he
conjured them to wrap around her legs, near the hip, one for each, spreading
her wide and holding her up. Then the ends conjoined with their mates above,
providing a loop for each leg. An erotic swing. The sight of her pale flesh
held tight by the straps, her nipples puckered, her red hair wet and spilling
over her body had exactly the effect on him as he’d imagined—a raging need
to possess her.
Her eyes were wide, taking it all in, but she was spread, ready for him.
He swung her closer, positioning his cock at her entrance but not yet
taking her. “Remember when I said to hold on before?” he asked, his voice
grinding with need.
She nodded as water dripped off her face.
“Hold tighter.”
She grasped hold of the straps above her head, and they firmly held her
legs open and apart. He grasped hold of her, swinging her hard against his
cock. She shrieked and he groaned. So deep. The angle was just right, so he
pulled back and swung her again. The momentum was incredible, like making
love in the air, weightless but definitely not frictionless. The tight squeeze
every time he plunged into her was driving him mad… and racing him to his
peak.
“Oh… God… Asa!”
Holy fuck, he loved that voice.
“Asa… I… have…” She was panting with each thrust.
“What do you have, my love?” His cock, buried in her body. His love,
forever more.
“A… fantasy…” She shrieked as he took her a little deeper.
“I’m not quite done with mine,” he ground out. He was close, though. So
close. She was like an angel swinging in air, riding his cock, gloriously
beautiful in her wrapped up, tender flesh.
“Your wings,” she gasped.
“What?” His mind was riddled with Lust and pleasure and love. So close.
“Unfurl your wings,” she cried out. “Fuck me… as an angel.”
Holy magic. In all this time, he’d been making love to her as a man—as
humanly as possible—but he did as she asked, unfurling his wings behind
him, pumping the shower-spray-filled air with his feathers as he stroked into
her body. He was angeling… and he was loving a human in the one way he
was completely forbidden to do so.
It fucking tipped him right over the edge.
He squeezed his eyes tight and groaned through his release, the sound
loud and echoing in the shower. He kept swinging her onto his cock as she
cried out her own shuddering climax. When they’d both reached their peaks
and passed them and slowly were coming down, he stopped her swing and
gently held her close. Then he magicked away her bonds so only her flesh and
his remained. Pulling out was delicious pain, but he set her down, then bent to
rub and kiss the red marks the leather straps had left behind on her sweet
flesh. That she had gone along so willingly, that she’d given him her heart and
so much more… being on his knees, kissing her thighs in gratitude seemed
the only true answer to that.
“Asa.” Her voice was awed.
But he knew exactly how she felt. The love. The release. The pure joy of
it. “We will have to do that again, my love. Very soon.”
“Asa… look.” The awe remained, but the words…
He peered up at her.
She was staring at his wings behind him as if she’d never seen them
before. Granted it had only been once or twice, but still… they should not
cause that look of astonishment.
Then he caught a glimpse. White feathers.
He jolted to his feet and stared in dumbfounded amazement. His wings.
They had turned…
“White,” Molly whispered. She stared up into his eyes. “What does it
mean?”
He had no words. His mind was filled with static. “I… I don’t know.” But
then a twinge of recollection, through the haze of pleasure and lovemaking…
the magic pulse. Early, that first time, they made love, he’d felt it. Never in all
the times since, but that first time… “I have returned to the light.” He could
scarce believe the words as they left his mouth.
“I don’t understand.” And there was worry in her voice.
He brought her in for a hug. “It’s all right.” Was it? How was this even
happening? “It’s… it is a miracle.”
“Are you okay?” She peered up at him from the cocoon of his arms.
He smiled, and he could feel it. He’d thought it was just the euphoria of
making love—of loving Molly—but it was there inside him as well. Vibrant.
Strong. Light magic.
 “You have healed me,” he whispered.
Her eyebrows hiked up. “I didn’t realize you were sick.”
He laughed, and it was clear and light and shook them both. “I’ve been
Fallen for a decade and all it took…” He shook his head and released her to
cup her cheeks in his hands. “All it took was loving you to earn back my
wings.”
But she just looked more worried. “Does this mean… will you still
stay…”
“My love,” he said, keeping his voice soothing. “It matters not to me. You
and the baby—that’s all that matters.” But he knew, even as he said it, that it
would matter… maybe not to him. Not to them.
But possibly to everyone else.

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 Chapter Twenty

“Y OU ’ RE CERTAIN YOU DIDN ’ T DO ANYTHING … SPECIAL ,” R AZAEL ASKED HIM .

“Positive.” Asa laid his blade at Razael’s feet. It was poison to him now.
Even being in Razael’s Regiment was setting his blood alight with so much
dark magic near the light magic pulsing through his veins. He flexed his
snow-white wings for emphasis. “All I did was make love to Molly. It was
upon the first time—I noticed the pulse then—if that makes a difference.”
“We felt it as well. Everyone did.” Razael scowled, and he surely meant
both light forces and shadow, fae and angelkind. Even the dragons reported
feeling it. “There must be more to it than that.”
There was a lot more—it was everything to Asa—and maybe that was it.
“My love is True.” Was it as simple as that? But love was far from simple.
“Molly healed me in places a life kiss could never touch. And believe me,
I’ve tried.”
Razael smirked. “Laylah is taking the news well. In Truth, I think she’s
jealous of your wings, not where you’re putting your cock.”
Asa’s eyebrows lifted. He wasn’t sure which part of that surprised him
more.
“And that is precisely the problem.” Razael rose from his throne and
paced the room.
Asa watched him with dread. He’d never seen such… agitation… in the
angel before.
“Every shadow angeling who dreams of the light…” Razael shook his
head and stopped to face Asa. “Already the rumors are swirling as to what
caused it. And they grow more wild by the day. Was it merely fucking a
human that brought you back your wings? I don’t need to tell you what kind
of mayhem that could cause.”
Asa grimaced. “Just tell them—”
Razael tipped his head. “Tell them what? That even you are far from
certain?”
Asa’s shoulders dropped. “I’m sorry, my lord.”
Razael gave him a small smile. “Sorry you’re redeemed? That when the
Warrior Angels and End of Times come, you will be spared while the rest of
us go to ash? Don’t be sorry for that, my friend.”
“You know all that I do.” Asa cringed. “I would tell you.”
“I know.” Razael sighed. “Meanwhile, I’ll do what I can to keep my
Regiment focused on the war and not their own personal redemption. But they
are shadowkind, after all.”
Asa nodded. If they were capable of that kind of restraint—Virtue—they
would not be in shadow to begin with. Was that it? Because he was Wrath
Fallen and not so easily seduced by the shadow side, that it had been possible
for him to be redeemed? There were others who had accomplished it. Oriel.
Tajael. Erelah. But each had been unique; a strange circumstance. None of it
fit together that he could discern.
“In Truth,” Razael said, “I’m more concerned about Elyon.”
Asa waved in the general direction of the nursery where Eden and Ren
still lived. “Micah has to pine for her—I understand that now more than ever.”
“But will he turn against Elyon? We’ve no indication so far. The war
continues on the streets. But that’s not what I mean, Asa.”
“There is another threat beyond the war?” Asa fought through the guilt
that he would be sidelined while others fought. Wrath still burned in him,
desiring Elyon’s destruction, but he had new responsibilities now. Molly and
the baby were more important than vengeance.
“Your, well, redemption—it’s an existential threat to Elyon. Think of it.”
Asa frowned. “His angelings live in fear of him. They are as loyal as they
must be in order to survive. Even his own son is potentially against him. But
what has that to do with me and my wings?”
“Elyon has spent decades building his army,” Razael said, once again
taking a seat on his throne. “His angelings can die in battle, or they can die at
his hand… or they can die at the hands of the Warrior Angels, should they
come. In the end, does it really matter much how? But what if they could live
instead?”
Asa’s eyes went wide. “If there were a path to redemption… if they could
win themselves free from the shadow side…”
“Elyon would lose. Everything.”
But a cold feeling gripped his heart. “And if they fail?”
“Then they are lost, regardless.”
Asa shook his head. “I never… my lord, I never intended to bring this
upon us.”
Razael chuckled. “Love,” he said with more than a little disdain.
“Causing problems since the beginning of time.” But then he smiled. “I would
give you a blessing, my friend, but I’m afraid you’re too good for that now.”
Asa felt that as a strike against his heart. “I still owe you my life.”
The angel laughed. “You bear Zuriel’s mark, and your wings are white.
You owe me nothing. Go live your life, Asa. Forget about the shadow realm
and be glad for it.”
In Truth, even Zuriel’s mark was fading, its shadow magic being
consumed by the light magic inside him. And being in the light did change
everything. It was possible now for him to join the light forces—he could
even reunite with some of his cohort-mates from his youth, to see where they
landed. The world had opened up to him in a way that went beyond simply
not dying if the Warrior Angels were resurrected. But that didn’t erase the
past. “There will be no forgetting. And do not be surprised if you see me on
the battlefield at some point. We remain on the same side, my lord. Only the
color of my wings has changed, not my loyalties.”
Razael tipped his head in acknowledgment, but it wasn’t Truth, and they
both knew it.
Everything had changed, and not just for Asa. But the Truth was he could
not fight this war—Razael would have to carry on without him. He had a
higher duty to attend, a miracle to witness and usher in—the woman Asa
loved was giving him a son.
And he would devote his life to protecting and loving them both.
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Asa has his happy ending, but the story of the Fallen Angels continues!

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Tajael is an angling of the light—a cross between human and angel. He

strives for Virtue, but his human body is vulnerable to all the Sins. . . Lust
most of all. Growing up cloistered among the angels, he must now go on
walkabout in the human world to prove his Virtue. If he can keep from
Falling, he’ll be allowed to return and take his vows. But it’s an angering’s
nature to love and protect humanity. . . and nothing he’s been taught prepares
him for the Temptation ahead. . .

While you wait for more angels, go back to the beginning with FALLEN
IMMORTALS. . .

(HINT: *More* of Tajael’s backstory is in this series!)

LUCIAN
I am a Dragon Prince of the House of Smoke… and I am dying.
Five hundred years is truly enough for a man like me. A monster. Yet a ten-
thousand-year treaty will die with me, if I don’t spawn a dragonling to take
my place. My two brothers are no use in this task. It falls to me, the eldest by
a hair’s breadth, and yet, I cannot face the horror of another sealing. Another
death. Another woman’s blood on my hands.

ARABELLA
I was saved from death in a dark Seattle alley by an impossibly beautiful man
who swooped in on golden wings. Now he’s taken me to his lair, opened my
eyes to a world of immortals I didn’t know existed, and given me an
impossible task—find him a mate. Then, and only then, will he set me free.

He needs her more than he wants; she wants him more than she should; and
the fate of both the mortal and immortal worlds depends on not just repairing
their hearts, but finding a Love that’s True…

The FALLEN IMMORTALS series is a modern Beauty and the Beast story
with flaming HOT dragon shifters, vengeful Dark Fae, and beguiling fallen
angels. Only readers over 18 should embark on this epic series of dangerous
love that only an immortal might withstand.

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Hot shifters. Military heroes. Sexy witches. Jaxson has to claim a mate or
step down as alpha—but his dark secret will kill any mate he claims. Olivia’s
a half-witch with a secret of her own. Wolves and witches mix like matches
and TNT… and their secrets could destroy them both.

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Check out all of Alisa’s bestselling Paranormal Romance...

READING ORDER

Shifters in Seattle
True Alpha (Book 1)
Dark Alpha (Book 2)
A True Alpha Christmas (Book 3)

River Pack Wolves

Jaxson (Book 1)
Jace (Book 2)
Jared (Book 3)

Wilding Pack Wolves

Wild Game (Book 1)
Wild Love (Book 2)
Wild Heat (Book 3)
Wild One (Book 4)
Wild Fire (Book 5)
Wild Magic (Book 6)

Fallen Immortals
Kiss of a Dragon (Book 1)
Heart of a Dragon (Book 2)
Fire of a Dragon (Book 3)
Chosen by a Dragon (Book 4)
 Seduced by a Dragon (Book 5)
Touched by a Dragon (Book 6)
Loved by a Dragon (Book 7)
Marked by a Dragon (Book 8)
Claimed by a Dragon (Book 9)
Of Bards and Witches: Leonidas’s Story (Book 10)

Fallen Angels
Tajael (Book 1)
Oriel (Book 2)
Asa (Book 3)
Razael (Book 4)
Micah (Book 5)
Tempted (Book 6): A Fallen Angels Story
Kiss of an Angel (Book 7): A Fallen Angels Story

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 About the Author

Alisa Woods lives in the Midwest with her husband and family, but her heart will always belong to the
beaches and mountains where she grew up. She writes sexy paranormal romances about alpha men and
the women who love them. She enjoys exploring the struggles we all have, where we resist—and
succumb to—our most tempting vices as well as our greatest desires. She firmly believes that love
triumphs over all.

All of Alisa’s romances feature sexy alphas and the strong women who love them.

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