Reaver(56)
“Why?” Seemed like a stupid bet for an immortal to make. Never was a long, long time.
“I don’t know,” he muttered. “You’d think he’d want me to tattoo it somewhere everyone would see it.”
“Not the tattoo,” she said impatiently. “The bet. Why did you say you wouldn’t take a mate?”
One massive shoulder rolled in a lazy shrug. “At the time, I was Unfallen. I had no future. I wasn’t going to enter Sheoul to complete my fall, and the likelihood of earning my wings back was pretty much nil. Who would want me?”
Was he fucking kidding? Who wouldn’t want him? Just looking at him was practically orgasm inducing. He was powerful. Loyal. And he’d stop at nothing to protect those he loved. He’d even sneak into hell to steal Satan’s prize possession in order to stop Lucifer. Any female would be lucky to have him.
Even Harvester, who had hated him for years, could see that.
“And now?” she asked quietly. “Do you think you’ll find a mate now that you’re a halo-fied angel again?” She didn’t know why she was asking. Wasn’t even sure she wanted an answer.
His sapphire eyes locked onto hers, and her heart did a crazy flip. “Assuming I don’t get stripped of my wings or executed for rescuing you… maybe.”
The way he said it, low and rough, was downright erotic, as if he was right now picturing his mate. Naked.
Harvester’s body went all kinds of hot.
“Harvester,” he said, in that rough voice that made her sex throb.
“What?” she found herself leaning toward him, heard her pulse pounding in her ears and felt her lungs struggle for oxygen.
“Lift up your shirt.”
She sucked in a hot breath. “My shirt?” Her hands were already on the bottom hem.
“I’ll do it.” Very gently, he gripped her shoulders and turned her. “I want to see how your wings are healing.”
“Oh.” She went utterly cold with disappointment. She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but that wasn’t it.
“If it makes you feel any better,” he said, a dry teasing note in his voice, “I’m not a doctor, but I played one for years.”
“Yes,” she drawled, “that’s much better.” She wondered if he’d enjoyed working at Underworld General. She’d never thought of him as the doctorly type, but as he peeled her tank top up and smoothed his warm hands up her back, she decided she liked his bedside manner.
“Your scars are gone,” he murmured, and she swore she heard his heartbeat pound a little harder, a little faster. So did hers.
His touch was tender as he probed the aching area near her shoulder blades. “Can you extend your wings yet?”
“I’ll try.” She hoped the slight breathlessness in her words came across as pain and not a reaction to his hands on her body.
Then the pain definitely came through as she tried to bring her wings out. Bone erupted from the slits in her back, and by some miracle she didn’t cry out.
“That’s good,” he said. “You’ve got about two feet of framework. All bone, but once you feed, you can probably double that and add some tissue.”
Retracting her unformed wings, she jerked away from him and yanked her top down. “Not from you.”
“Are we really doing this again? You,” he growled, “are the most stubborn, difficult, infuriating person I have ever dealt with.”
“Aw.” She fluttered her eyelashes. “You say the sweetest things.”
He shook his head as if she were a lost cause, and maybe she was. “We need you to be able to sense Harrowgates. It’s only a matter of time before your father’s forces find us, and if darkmen are on our trail, we need to get out of Sheoul. Now.”
“No.” This time her refusal carried less resolve, and even as she formed an argument—a pathetic one—her fangs lengthened and throbbed, and all the starved cells in her body started to quiver. “Feeding does strange things to me.”
He barked out a husky laugh. “It does strange things to me, too. You need this, angel.” Casually, gracefully, he relaxed his long body and crossed his legs at the ankles. “Come on. I’m right here. It’s just blood. No big deal. Just like last time.”
It’s just blood. No big deal. Except it was a big deal. It was a huge deal for her to turn into an ugly beast, and Reaver was all, Go ahead, stick your fangs in me. And wait… he’d said angel. Usually he called her fallen.
It was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to her. Warmth spread through her and emotion she couldn’t identify bubbled up inside her. It overflowed from the sealed container she’d kept all her touchy-feely feelings inside since she’d fallen, and while her inner demon wanted to blow her stack and rip Reaver apart for being nice and tapping into that container, she couldn’t.