He held her face in his hands, parted her lips with his tongue, and kissed her deeply. “We can truly hear each other’s thoughts?”
“Only when we’re touching.”
He held her close and lightly bit her shoulder. “I’ve never been happier than I am right now. Can you “hear” how much?”
“Yes.” She leaned away, tears in her eyes. “Yes, I can.”
As the weight of her joy flooded him—through the mating bond and his empathy talent—he lay down on his back and pulled her over his chest.
They passed the night in bed, even though they didn’t sleep, making love and watching movies, eating popcorn.
“Lexine?”
“Yes?”
“You know why you make me happy, right?”
“Tell me.”
“I could list numerous reasons, of course, ranging from your tenacity to learn to fight with Raphael, to the way you smile in your sleep, but you were the first demon in Sanctuary to trust me and to care what path I took. You gave me the strength to do what I’ve done, Lex. I owe it all to you.”
“No.” She kissed him. “You’ve earned your own success, won your own battles.”
“You saved my life. And I don’t mean in Morgan. I mean the first moment I saw you.”
“Then to be fair, you saved me. Even though there was never a real poacher in my nightmare, I thought the worst of myself. Before I realized the truth of the lover in my dream, you gave me hope. You gave me faith in myself. So we’re even.”
“We’re more than even.” Warmth filled his chest. “We’re mates.”
She kissed his neck. “Yes.”
“And I’m going to make sure it only gets better from here.”
“Tall order.”
“Just wait and see, beauty.”
…
On a crisp November morning, Jett walked through the first snowfall of the season to the garden behind the archangel house, his mouth dry, his legs unsteady from adrenaline. Several inches of heavy, wet snow clung to every surface, every branch and evergreen plant in the garden and forest beyond. Fat flakes drifted through the air and one landed on Jett’s nose, melting on contact.
Beneath the snow-frosted pear trees, Raphael waited with Wren, Ginger, and the twins—the infants bundled in blankets. Opposite them stood Devin, Lark, Vin, and a dozen of Sanctuary’s eldest Guardians. Lexine graced the garden as well, standing between the two groups, dressed in an ankle-length red coat. Her smile could have stilled his heart.
Jett stopped in front of Lex and knelt in the snow, the snowflakes landing and melting on his black uniform. His weapons, all cleaned, sharpened, and polished, clung to his body, their weight and the weight of the ceremony a welcome burden.
Repeating after Lexine—whom Raphael had elected to give the ceremony—Jett took the oath to protect the lives of Raphael’s family with his own, naming them in turn. He meant every word, focusing on the core of his being as he spoke them. He hadn’t just earned this position, he’d gained friends, and he’d do right by them.
For the second time in his life—the first being his recent mating—he’d gained something invaluable: a place to belong.
“You may stand,” Lex said, a smile in her voice and tears on her cheeks. She took a step forward and opened her fisted hand, revealing tiny wings forged from gold—the ones his father had made. He’d finally earned the right to wear them, finally found his place in Sanctuary.
Jett stood and tilted his head. His mate pinned the wings to his collar and threw her arms around him in an embrace so tight, his spine popped.
“Ow,” he whispered in her ear.
I love you.
I love you, too. He gave her a light kiss before he released her, a quick brush of lips that warmed his entire body and his soul.
Lexine backed away and all the demons in attendance approached one at a time, shaking his hand before departing in silence. The second to last Guardian, Devin, whispered threats of creative bodily harm if anything ever happened to his daughter. He smiled and moved on, letting Lark step forward.
“It’s been a honor kicking your ass,” he said.
The archangels approached last and they each thanked him for his commitment, formal words accompanied by brushed from their wings. Ginger gave him a kiss on the cheek. With the ceremony over, Jett turned to go and take up watch in the woods.
“Join us for dinner and wine tonight, both of you,” Raphael said. “We need to do some real celebrating.”
“We will.”
Jett pulled Lex close and escorted her to the house behind the archangels, as happy as he’d ever been and looking forward to much more of their new life.
Acknowledgements
As always, I must thank all the editors at Entangled Publishing, especially Kaleen Harding, Liz Pelletier, Heather Howland, and Marie Loggia-Kee, who all contributed to making this book possible.
About the Author
Sarah Gilman writes paranormal romance. Her fascination with all things winged extends back to childhood, when images of the ancient Egyptian goddess Isis captured her imagination and never let go. She lives in Vermont with her supportive husband and two spoiled cats.
Turn the page for an excerpt from
Break Out
A Blood Hunter Novel
Nina Croft
Rico hurled himself behind the huge trunk of a tree and stood, back pressed against the rough bark, as the missiles whizzed past.
An arrow thwacked into the wood behind him, and every muscle in his body tensed. He reached gingerly around and snapped it off. In the dim light, he held the shaft to his face and cursed loudly—wooden arrows. It was almost as though they were expecting him.
“Goddamn heathen peasants.” He might as well be back in the Dark Ages.
In the distance, a pack of hounds bayed for blood. His blood. But they weren’t getting it.
He braced himself and peered around the trunk through the thick stand of trees, and spotted the crimson glow of a hundred torches not too far in the distance. Breathing in, he caught the oily scent of burning pitch.
A triumphant roar filled the air. The hounds must have picked up his scent.
Rico cursed and darted off again, weaving through the dense forest with blurring speed. He could outrun the mob and the hounds, but it was a damn poor way to end an evening.
When the sound of voices faded behind him, he slowed down and finally came to a halt. Time to get the hell out of here. Leaning against a tree, he switched on his comm unit.
“What is it?” Tannis sounded irritated, and Rico frowned.
“I need picking up.”
“It will have to be later—I’m busy.”
He cocked his head to one side, listening for the sound of the mob, judging its distance. His pursuers would be on him soon. Tannis had better get unbusy and fast.
“Tannis, stop whatever it is you’re doing, bring my goddamn spaceship, and pick me up.”
She was silent for a moment. “I’ll think about it.”
The line went dead. He stared at the comm receiver on his wrist. She’d cut him off. Gritting his teeth, he imagined the pleasure of tossing her mutant body out of the ship’s airlock. Only first, he had to get back to the ship. He pressed his finger down until he heard the line open.
“What?” she snapped.
“Tannis, are you aware that I’ve rigged El Cazador to blow if I don’t input a unique numerical code every twenty-four hours? Come and get me or the whole ship goes up.”