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)
After so long together, they were still each other’s fire—but more than that, they were still each other’s love, still each other’s favorite person.
He groaned as she pretended to bite his nipples, but got his revenge back by inserting his hand between their bodies and teasing the plump flesh between her thighs. Shuddering, she ran her lips over his chest, tasting him, then lifted her face to demand a kiss. Which he gave her while stroking her back and every other part of her he could reach—but for the forbidden zone of her breasts.
She sat up, touched them herself instead, her eyes locked to his as the hunger between them began to build to a fever pitch. But interwoven with the carnal heat was a love that had knit itself into their bones with the passing of the years, until she knew him as well as she knew herself.
So she knew he remained afraid for her and their child, but was determined to hide it from her.
Fear for the people you loved wasn’t a rational thing.
He loved her so much, her Raphael. And she loved him just as much. Enough to pretend that she didn’t sense his fear, and enough to make sure that when the time came, he wouldn’t be alone.
She’d spoken to Dmitri, made a plan. Raphael’s second—and best friend—would slip away from New York on the eve of her due date, with Trace and Naasir slipping in to cover his position.
As she shared pleasure with her archangel this night, her back arching on ripples of ecstasy as she took him inside her, she was glad that they, both of them, had people who would watch their backs no matter what.
46
Misha, Nasien, and Izar, born in thus order in the span of minutes.
Sons of Andromeda (Archivist of Angels) and Naasir (of Raphael’s Seven). Naasir, who is an enigma unknown to the world, and Andromeda, angel, have created three joyful gifts who are themselves enigmas whose future cannot be predicted by any known measure.
—The Naming Book (Archives of the Angelic Library, Refuge)
Well aware that Hannah, Elijah, and their new child would need time alone together, neither Raphael nor Elena made any attempt to visit even after Eli confirmed the birthing had gone smoothly and that both mother and babe were doing well. It wasn’t until several days later that Hannah sent a message saying she’d love for Elena to come and meet their daughter.
“I will see the babe later,” Raphael said when Elena realized the invitation was for her alone. “Eli is no doubt feeling territorial at present.” A kiss to her temple. “I will be exactly the same beyond my innermost circle.”
Elena hugged him. “Does Elijah have a friend like Dmitri?”
“Yes. He was a first general once,” he reminded her. “While he isn’t like your Bluebell in the way he makes friendships wherever he goes—Eli is more reserved—they are the same in that their friendships last. Eli is not alone at this time.”
She released the hug…and felt her heart melt as Raphael bent to kiss her belly—which was currently covered in a flowing ice-blue gown of an airy material lined with thermal layers to keep her warm. It wasn’t her normal style, but when Montgomery and Sivya had gifted it to her in a trunk full of other maternity and post-maternity clothing, she’d realized it was both comfortable and simple to get on and off.
She wove her fingers through Raphael’s hair as he spoke to their child, his voice a deep rumble that was home to her. When he rose back up, she said, “You are going to be such an amazing papa.”
He looked incredibly young and vulnerable as he pressed his forehead to hers. “Because of you,” he murmured. “I’m a far better man because of you.”
“That goes both ways, Archangel.”
* * *
* * *
The Refuge was blanketed in snow, a wonderland of soft white that hushed the world as the sun kissed it with a soft golden glow.
“Beautiful.” She drew deep of the cold air before tugging up the hood of the cape Raphael had wrapped around her before she’d left.
No one else walked on her route to the Medica this morning, though she did catch one cheeky little face at the window of a nearby home. When a small girl waved at her, she waved back, caught in the flows of memory. Sam had waved that way at her more than once—she still couldn’t believe he was full grown and part of her Guard, exactly as he’d told her he’d one day become.
She was halfway to her destination when someone landed in front of her, far enough out that his sudden appearance wouldn’t startle her—because his wings made no sound. No angelic susurration. Perfect feline stealth if not for the members of the Legion scattered all along this route, gargoyles in the shadows of the buildings.