Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 139178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 696(@200wpm)___ 557(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 696(@200wpm)___ 557(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
“If he loved me,” he’d asked her, his hand fisted on his knee, “why did he surrender to the madness? Why didn’t he go into Sleep at the first sign of it? At least he’d still be alive!”
Havens, but he’d been young, and so deep in his emotions that he’d asked the unanswerable.
“Because he wasn’t perfect, my sweet Rafa,” Lady Sharine had said. “We, none of us are perfect.” Her hand in his hair, such a gentle touch. “He was bright and brash and young and he thought he could win any battle—even the one against his own mind.”
Raphael hadn’t been ready to hear that, to even attempt to understand it, but now, watching his toddler son walk, he thought of the father Nadiel had been to him until his madness…and he felt his heart ache with love for the man who’d been unable to win that final war.
* * *
* * *
“No, Rafi, not like that.” An intent look out of eyes of changeable green, muscled arms shifting the wooden fighting stick in his hands, his whole attention on Raphael. “This way. Do you see?”
“Let me try. Like this?”
A slashing smile, his eyes aglow, and the pale gold of his wings held up with warrior precision. “Exactly. I knew you could do it.” He ruffled Raphael’s hair. “What a warrior you’re going to be, son of mine. I look forward to sparring with you when you are full grown into your power—I will need to be on my mettle!”
* * *
* * *
Nadiel hadn’t made it to that point in time.
Swallowing hard, Raphael looked down at Phoenix, his heart full of a love so huge and protective that it had forever changed him. So it must have changed Nadiel and Caliane.
For one thing was true: no matter what else, his parents had loved him.
He’d spent equal time with both, never a child who was pushed aside for other matters, despite his parents being archangels. Even if it meant that Nadiel declined the suggested time for a Cadre meeting because he’d promised his son they’d go flying. It would be the same for Nixie—he would know the love of both parents, would always understand that he was the most important thing in their lives.
“Oh, look at you!” That delighted feminine voice had everything in him lifting, softening. He glanced up to find Elena crouched at the far end of the corridor; she was dressed in warrior black, blades strapped to her biceps and thighs—and her arms held out to a now-laughing Nix.
“Mama!” He tried to toddle faster, his little legs wobbly in the sunlight that slanted in through the windows to their left.
As Elena spoke words of encouragement to their boy, Raphael let the shadows of the past whisper away, to live in the joy of today. If he allowed those shadows to overtake him, he would steal the present from both himself and his family. “Hey,” he said to his son, “how about Papa?”
The boy grinned and said, “Mama!”
“See”—Raphael shook his head, even as he grinned in turn—“this is the thanks I get.”
His son giggled, catching on to his mood, and across the way, Elena blew Raphael a kiss. Sexiest you’ve ever looked, Archangel.
Raphael’s cheeks creased. “There you go,” he said, steadying their son when his legs would’ve gone out from under him. “Show your mama what you can do.”
“Mama! Nissi wak!” Nix called out.
“Yes, Nixie, you’re walking! And getting faster with every step. Soon you’ll be racing up and down these hallways.”
Their little boy laughed…and fell into his mother’s waiting arms.
Scooping him up, Elena rose and kissed Raphael as he spread his wings around her and Nix in the sunshine of his Tower while a not-housecat prowled around their legs, purring.
* * *
* * *
It was much later that night, while Raphael slept the small amount he needed, that he dreamed of his father burning up in Caliane’s fire, Nadiel’s eyes turbulent with insanity as his glorious wings melted to nothing.
Wake up, Raphael!
He jerked awake to the sound of his consort’s distress. “Elena, what is it? Where is the danger?”
Cupping his face as she leaned over him, she shook her head. “You went rigid beside me, your hands fisted.” She stroked her hand down his neck, over his shoulder. “What were you dreaming about?”
Shuddering, he allowed his muscles to relax. “Nadiel.”
His answer had her spreading her wing over him as she put her arm protectively across his chest. Because his Elena understood his fears, had seen his terrors. “You know,” she reminded him, her gaze wildfire and silver. “You know. You’re always on the watch. It’ll never get to that point.”
She’d said as much to him many times before, but they both understood that the only thing that might help was to see if his mother would wake sane. “Five more years,” he said, his tone like sandpaper. “Longer perhaps.”