She wore a figure-hugging red dress that thrust her breasts over the top and ended well above her knees. Her hair was a tousled, sexy mess around her perfectly made-up face.

  Lucifer straightened and stared.

  Sophia growled, and Eddie shrunk against Shade.

  Sashaying into the room, hips rocking like she was working for tips, she said, “Nobody has the right to take my daughter away without telling me first.”

  “Everybody out,” Wrath snapped. There was a conversation that had been a long time in coming. He caught himself before Dee and Eddie reacted. “If you don’t mind.”

  With a glare at her daughter, Dee left the room, and everyone followed behind her.

  Rosabella watched them go with a smirk before turning to him. “Wrath,” she purred. “If you wanted to spend time alone with me, all you had to do was ask.”

  “Stop it.” He stayed where he was, with his shoulders propped against the wall. Not too long ago, that look on Rosabella’s face would have had him crossing hell to find her; now, he couldn’t even be bothered to cover the handful of strides that separated them.

  Cocking her head, Rosabella closed the distance between them and put her hand on his chest. “Come on, babe.” She pouted up at him. “You can’t stay mad at me forever.”

  “You’re forgetting what I am.” Her hand on him felt like an invasion, and he took it away. “I am Wrath, getting and staying mad is my thing. And I have nothing but time.”

  “All right.” She crossed her arms, and her breasts threatened a breakout from her dress. “Get it out of your system. I’ve been a bad girl.”

  “No, Rosabella.” It was kind of surreal to see all that cleavage and not be even slightly tempted by it. To be honest, it was good cleavage. Rosabella had always had, and still did have, a banging body. But she didn’t have Eddie’s courage and strength, or Dee’s fortitude and determination. And her eyes for damn sure didn’t grow warm and soft like she was seeing the best version of him, unlike those clear, emerald greens of Haziel’s. But like Rosabella, Haziel had left him. She’d taken all her serenity and joy with her. And he fucking missed them. Missed her. “You haven’t been a bad girl; you’ve been an asshole.”

  Rosabella gaped at him. Temper kindled in her eyes and tightened her lips. He cut her off before it could burst into flame. He wasn’t in the mood for one of her tantrums. “You left me, and that was your right.” The ever-present tightness in his chest was gone. “But you should have told me about my daughter.”

  She scowled at him. “I⁠—”

  “Be quiet. I am speaking now.” He put a thrust of compulsion into his tone. Her justifications might move him to violence. “I lost years with her. And I know we have time now, but I’ve lost all her firsts, and there is no fucking way I can get those back. Her first word. Her first step. Her first day of school. Her first boyfriend.” He hauled his thoughts up before he lost it completely. “She is my daughter, and I barely know her.”

  Rosabella’s face twisted into a grimace as she tried to fight the compulsion.

  “And then you abandoned her.” No shade on Dee, she’d stepped up and done a great job raising and loving Eddie. “Dee was her mother and gave her all the love you didn’t, but that’s not a credit to you. That’s all Dee. She did what she had to do, and with all the love in the world. But still you left scars on my little girl, and I’ll never forgive you for those.”

  Tears pooled in Rosabella’s eyes and slipped down her cheeks.

  Wrath had seen it all before. Rosabella wielded tears like an onyx blade, deadly and irrevocable.

  “Now, I’m going to do what I can to take those scars away and make her know that she is loved and wanted and the best fucking thing in this entire universe. Scars may fade, but they never entirely go away.” He leaned closer to her, making sure she got his meaning. “What you’re going to do is make sure you go away. You have no rights here, and you don’t belong here. You did that all by yourself with the decisions that you made, and you have nobody to blame but yourself. And if you don’t—” He gave it every ounce of menace he had, and that was a fuck ton. “You’re going to find out how Satan is the hell prince of Wrath, and there is no place you can hide from me.”

  Chapter

  Thirty-Six

  Time passed differently in heaven, and Haziel lost track of how many days had passed on the earth plane. Her time became a blur of pain and healing and Ramiel. Always Ramiel, by her side and pouring his healing energy into her until he nearly depleted himself. Always Ramiel, sitting by her bedside when she woke, ready to give her whatever he could. Except for the thing she needed most, and that was a grumpy hell prince who had thrown himself between her and harm.

  The pain in her body healed, but the gaping emptiness in her chest merely deepened. The trust she’d had for Ramiel was shattered, and no number of delicate treats to tempt her to eat or selfless healings could paste the pieces back together again.

  When Ramiel had brought her back, he hadn’t taken her to the infirmary, or even to her old quarters, but brought her to his and laid her in his bed. He’d brought in healing seraphim to help her between the times when he could heal her, and then sat by her bed and waited, those brilliant green eyes on her constantly.

  Haziel wanted to scream at him to go away and leave her alone.

  “Haziel.” Ramiel stood from the armchair beside her bed and leaned over her. “You’re feeling stronger.”

  Connected to her as he was, he would know, so she barely even bothered to nod.

  “Right.” Ramiel shoved his hands in the pockets of his lounge pants and dropped his chin to his chest. “We should talk.”

  She didn’t want to talk. Or think. Not that her wishes mattered to the constant barrage of images playing through her mind. Top of them was Wrath’s face as she’d begged him to let her go with Ramiel. She’d seen in his eyes the same betrayal she’d felt when she’d realized how callously Ramiel had sent her to the horsemen’s resting place to die.

  “I’m sorry.” Ramiel perched on the side of her bed. “I should never have done it.”

  “Why did you?” Her voice sounded rusty and hoarse. Even as she asked, she didn’t know if his answer would matter. Centuries of love and devotion she’d showered on Ramiel, and he had used her as if she was expendable.

  He reached for a glass of water and handed it to her. Even the water in heaven tasted different, pure, essential and of nothing but the atoms that made it up. On earth, the water tasted of the place it sprung from, and all the pipes and mechanisms humans used to bring it to people.

  Ramiel sighed and clasped his hands. Leaning his elbows on his knees, he dropped his head. Light gleamed off the golden strands of his hair and accentuated the broad expanse of his shoulders. For so long, it was a sight that would have struck her dumb with longing. “There isn’t a simple answer for that.”

  And Haziel wanted to laugh at his words. Because unlike her, he could choose whether to be honest or not. The irony of the truth imperative Ramiel had imposed on all his close circle, but not himself, had never felt sharper to her or cut deeper. She had loved this being for countless millennia. Content to merely bask in his shadow and gather the crumbs of affection he tossed her away. Until he had sent her to follow Wrath, and she had known what it was like to be treated as if she mattered. Even after he’d abandoned her to Ava in the early days of their time together, Wrath had come back for her, insisted she came away with him. She wouldn’t have known any of that if Ramiel hadn’t sent her on that mission. She could have thanked him for that.

  Until he had knowingly set her a task that would end her. If Wrath had not been there, she would be no more.

  Wrath. A fist constricted around her chest. His blue eyes filled with hurt and then bitterness haunted her.

  Ramiel took her hand. “Haziel?”

  “What?” No accompanying thrill followed his touch.

  “Are you listening to me?”

  “You’re sitting within arm’s reach of me.” And way too close. She pulled her hand away. “I cannot but hear you.”

  “Indeed.” Ramiel took a deep, careful breath. “I have earned your anger.”

  He had cursed her with this truthfulness, and she saw no reason to spare him. “Yes, you have.”

  Anger flashed in his brilliant green eyes, and his face hardened.

  She met his stare, daring him to get angry with her, challenging him to pull his archangel crap on her.

  He sighed and his shoulders drooped. “I was jealous.”

  “Eh?” That shook her out of her righteous anger.

  “I was jealous.” He reached for her hand and then stopped. “The way matters have been between us for so many years, I had grown accustomed to you always by my side, always putting me before all others.”

  “By matters, you mean me loving you?” Haziel couldn’t spend countless more millennia dancing around the truth and pretending what existed between them didn’t.

  He cleared his throat. “Yes, that.”

  “Then let me put your mind at rest, I no longer feel the same.”

  Flinching, Ramiel stood and shoved his hands in his pockets. “You are angry, and you say things that will wound. I understand.”

  “No, you don’t.” His condescension enraged her and made her head pound. “You made it so I could never lie to you. I am not spewing venom in my anger; I am speaking my truth.”

  “Your truth at this moment,” Ramiel said. “Your truth as you believe it to be.”

  His arrogance was beyond insufferable. He’d always been this way, but it had never made her want to punch his perfect face like it did now. “Are you implying that I don’t know my own feelings?”

  “No.” He held up one hand as if to pacify her. “I do not doubt that at this moment you despise me and are furious with me.” Regret clouded his eyes. “And I have deserved all that and more. I knowingly put you at risk to get you away from the influence of that hell prince.”

  “Wrath.” She took delight in speaking his name. “You mean Wrath.”

  “Yes…Wrath.” He sneered. “It never occurred to me for a second when I paired you with him that you would not continue to see him as you always have. That you would not despise him.”

  “You despised him.” Haziel didn’t see the point to this conversation, but Ramiel had effectively trapped her here with him, and she was done tiptoeing around his sensibilities. “I always liked Wrath. You were the one who despised him.”

  Stilling, Ramiel frowned at her. “Always?”

  “Yes, always. He was kind to me, in his gruff and forthright way.” She shrugged. “And yes, he had a temper, but he’s Wrath. It’s not like his seal was going to allow him to be any other way.”

  “Kind to you.” Ramiel tapped his chin. “Yes, I suppose he has been. I should have seen that before now, but I suppose I saw only what I wanted to see.”

  She didn’t need to respond to what was patently obvious. “I did what you asked me to. I went to hell with him, kept an eye on him, and for the most part kept him out of trouble.” Barring that fight with Ava.

  “And you fell in love with him.” Ramiel cocked his head and studied her. “There is no use denying it, I can sense it in you.”

  As if she could deny what was true, so she stared at him.

  “I’ve been a fool.” Sighing, Ramiel dropped his chin to his chest. “A fool that only saw that he wanted a thing when it was lost to him.”

  A ringing sound started in Haziel’s ears. She couldn’t have heard him right. “What?”

  “You see, I always knew you loved me, but I became complacent in that love, sure that it would always be mine. You are such a creature of constancy, Haziel. For as long as there was me, there was you beside me, loving me. And then that love was gone, and I finally understood how precious a gift I had squandered.”

  If he hadn’t looked so crushed, the irony of it might have made her laugh. How many times had she fantasized, longed for him to say these things to her. And now…

  Now she understood that love was not a thing of awe and hero worship. Love was vital and primal and messy and glorious. It was in the tiny things like the way Wrath’s eyes crinkled when he smiled. Or the way he very rarely laughed, but when he did, it came from the depths of him and made her want to hear it again and again. In the way he touched her, at times reverent and at times raunchy, sometimes both together. No, love was not a distant pining for an illusion, but a soul deep understanding of another being that made you feel like you were home.

  Ramiel was staring at her. “Say something.”

  “I don’t know what to say.” For the sake of their history and their future, she would not tell him what she was thinking, but she could only ever be honest. “My feelings have changed.”

  “I understand.” He cleared his throat. “But we have been together for many years, Haziel, and on the basis of that, I would ask something of you.”

  “What?” Tension and dread knotted in her stomach.

  “For the sake of the love you once felt, and its duration, I would ask that you not reject me out of hand. Stay here, recover, and think about what I have said. You are not one to lightly change how they feel. If there is a chance that what you once felt for me is there inside you, buried beneath your anger, I would ask that you give it a chance to flourish again.”

  He had called her back to his host. She could not leave. “To what end?”

  “To us being together.” He gestured between them. “Being mates here who work and love together. Who rule my host together.”

  She opened her mouth to tell him it was pointless, but he held up his hand.

  “I know you believe you won’t change your heart, but for the sake of the love you bore me, at least give it a chance to wake again.”

  “And if it doesn’t?”

  Ramiel gave her a grave smile. “Then we will find a way to work together as close friends. But I vow to you that whatever your decision, I will never knowingly put you in harm’s way again, and I will never take you for granted. If I have lost you, then I will bear that as I must, but regardless, you are owed a deep and heartfelt apology for what I did. I can only hope that somewhere within that huge, beautiful heart of yours, you can forgive the unforgivable.”

  He left her then, closing the door to his bedchamber behind him.

  All his actions since he’d brought her back here spoke of his regret, putting her in his quarters, caring for her himself. She had never seen him take such actions for another being in all her time with him. And now it meant so little to her.

  How long had she ached to lie where she was, and now she couldn’t bear lying here.

  The room was as cold and monotone as the rest of Ramiel’s palace. Where once she had seen all the gleaming white as pure and clean, now she only saw a soulless lack of color. Ramiel had leaned hard into the archangel aesthetic when he had created his palace. Everywhere she looked, it was white. White floors and walls, white furniture, white pillars holding up a molded white ceiling. The only break in the white was a change in texture. Not even the merest hint of blush or beige ever made it past Ramiel’s keen eye.

  She longed for a bright pillow, even a pastel one to break the monotony.

  She longed for Wrath.

  Chapter

  Thirty-Seven

  Sophia stood by the hell gate as Wrath said goodbye to Eddie.

  “I’ll be back.” He kissed Eddie’s forehead. “And if you need me, you have but to call.”

  Eddie looked woebegone and so much younger than her years as she stared up at him. “But why can’t you stay?”

  “My demesne is in shambles.” He gently took her hands. “As much as I would love to stay here with you, I need to see what order I can establish. I also need to find out if there’s another way, other than you, to repair those seals.” He glanced at Shade. “And I will also check on Shade’s demesne while he remains here with you. In the end, I am a hell prince, and I need to serve my purpose.”

  “But Shade is staying.” Eddie blinked back tears. “If he can stay, why can’t you?”

  Sophia’s heart broke for both of them, and she decided to help Wrath out. “With Wrath going back, it is easier for Shade to stay.” She had never thought she would see Wrath sacrifice his needs for another. But then, she had never seen a hell prince or an archangel acknowledge a child and then seek to preserve their relationship with that child. Always they had hunted Nephilim to extinction, called them abominations and condemned their existence. From what she’d seen, Nephilim brought out the best in a supernatural being.

  Eddie blinked up at Wrath. “You’re going so he can stay?”

  “Partly, but there also is a lot that needs doing, and quickly.” Wrath shot a look at Shade that promised endless retribution if Shade did not prove worthy of what he did today. “But the bond between us is alive now, and all you need to do is call me to you, and I will come.”

  Voice almost childlike, Eddie whispered, “Promise.”

  “I vow it.” Wrath pressed their joined hands to his heart. “There is nothing that could keep me from you.” He forced a smile. “And when this is all over, perhaps you could spend some time in my demesne.” His jaw tightened. “With Shade, of course.”

  “I’d like that.” Eddie swallowed. “And if you need me, you have to promise you’ll call for me. That bond works two ways, you know.”

  “Yes, it does.”

  Sophia swallowed her tears at the infinite gentleness in Wrath as he bid his child goodbye. He would be back soon, and if she were a betting angel, she would lay money on sooner than even Eddie expected him.

  Wrath enfolded Eddie into a hug. “Keep practicing with Sophia. Make yourself safe.”

  Over Eddie’s head, he looked at Shade and nodded. Grief was carved into his handsome face and shadowed the cerulean of his eyes. It wasn’t only leaving Eddie that had etched sadness into Wrath, and Sophia ached for him. Perhaps she felt an echo of her own pain and regret in Wrath’s. In the lonely hours she spent in her cozy room at the local B&B, questions taunted her. What if she hadn’t waited and spoken to Shade? Would he have loved her like he did Eddie? Probably not. And that was the most depressing thought of all.

 

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