He left them open-mouthed and fury-faced. All except Metatron, whose laughter followed Reaver all the way to Heaven.
Thirty-Four
Harvester once again entered Raphael’s home high in the Covenant mountains that stretched across the endless outer regions of Heaven. It always surprised newcomers that Heaven wasn’t composed of clouds and golden gates. It resembled Earth. Except cleaner. With no biting insects, venomous reptiles, or allergy-inducing pollen. And even in the snow and the desert, there was no uncomfortable cold or heat.
He was waiting for her in the bedroom.
Stomach churning, she walked inside.
“Look at you,” he said. “How many layers of clothing do you have on?”
About a million. She’d taken her time getting ready for this, which included crying, showering, and crying some more. Getting dressed had been a major ordeal, but she had to admit that she’d smiled when she’d put on the ugly pink underwear and bra Reaver had gotten for her. It would be a silent defiance, but she’d love that Raphael would be forced to remove something that belonged to Reaver.
Leggings and a tank top had followed, then sweats, then a robe. But with the way Raphael was undressing her with his eyes, she wished she’d put on armor, too. And a chastity belt.
The cock-severing chastity belt Limos had been forced to wear when she’d been betrothed to Satan would be perfect.
For his part, Raphael was wearing only a pair of crimson silk lounge pants, and she had a sneaky suspicion he was commando underneath.
“Let’s just do this,” she ground out.
“So eager.” He smiled, but it wasn’t a nice one. “I’d think you’d be worn out from your earlier activities with Reaver.” He moved toward her, his predatory intent clear. “That ends now. If he so much as kisses you, I’ll destroy him.”
She hissed. “I’m coming to you because we had a bargain, and this is for Limos. But if you ever lay finger on Reaver, know that you will have to take me by force for the rest of my life.”
Reaching out, he hooked his arm around her waist and tugged her against him. “Oh, I don’t think so.” He nuzzled her ear, and it took everything she had to not recoil. “Once you’ve had me, you’ll beg to join me in my bed.”
What. A. Douche. “My loins are aquiver with anticipation.”
His tongue traced the shell of her ear as he guided them toward the massive bed in the center of the room. With every step, her heart sank and her gut twisted, and a bleak, wintery feeling washed through her.
Over the thousands of years she’d been a fallen angel, she’d had to bed some extremely unpleasant males, and she’d learned to cope, usually by playing a role that allowed her to separate herself from her actions. But she couldn’t do that with Raphael. She didn’t think she could ever do it again.
Not when Reaver was the one on her mind and in her heart. Just like when she’d lost her wings, she knew this had to happen. But it felt like the worst betrayal she could imagine, and she wondered what would be left of her when it was done.
Raphael’s hand slipped between them to cup her breast, and a sob wedged in her throat. Panic closed around her like shrink-wrap. Blindly, without thinking, she shoved against him with all her strength. He released her and she stumbled backward, her breaths coming in ragged gulps.
Anger twisted Raphael’s beautiful face into something dark and terrible. “How could you have lain with demons and animals, and yet, you find me repulsive?”
Animals? He thought she’d slept with animals? It took her a moment of thinking through her panic attack to realize he meant shapeshifters and weres. Angels had never considered human-animal hybrids to be anything other than abominations.
“I find you repulsive,” she ground out, “because you’re holding lives over my head.”
He snorted. “And no demon has ever done that to you?”
“Of course they have,” she shot back. “But they’re demons. It’s what they do. You?” She looked at him with loathing. “You think you’re superior, but ultimately, you’re worse. I don’t know what happened to you while I was gone, but you’re not the male I remember.” She moved closer to him, not wanting to miss every emotion play out on his handsome face. “I’ve fucked demons who were less disgusting than you.”
Thank you for that one, Yenrieth.
Raphael’s fury rose up, becoming a tangible storm in the room. Electricity sizzled on the surface of his skin, little streaks of lightning that made him glow like someone had plugged him into a wall outlet.
“You are what happened.” His voice warped with the force of his anger, and an icy tremor of fear rippled down her spine. “You should have been mine a long time ago.”
Damn, she’d screwed up by taunting him. This wasn’t about her, and she needed to remember that. This was about keeping a promise and giving Limos back her baby.
Suck it up. Apologize. Give him the best damned night of his life, even if you have to throw up afterward.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice was halting, stale. Apologies had never been something she’d offered easily, and if she’d said those two words more than a dozen times in the last five thousand years, she’d be shocked. “I’m just… nervous.” She fluttered her eyelashes and played contrite and cowed.
His expression softened. “Understandable. It’s your first time with an archangel.”
Oh, gag. How could he walk around with a head that big and not lose his balance? “Yes.” She forced a smile. “That’s it.”
He returned the smile. “Come here.” When she hesitated, only for a heartbeat, he repeated his command, but this time with a sharp edge. “Come. Here.” He snapped his fingers, and suddenly, she was standing in front of him.
Wearing only her bra and underwear.
Closing his eyes, he inhaled. A rumble came up from his chest, and he lifted his lids. The crystal blue of his eyes was stained by angry crimson flecks.
“I can smell him on you.”
“Not on me.” She lifted chin and met his gaze with defiance that flew in the face of the apology she’d just offered. But dammit, she wasn’t going to apologize for being with Reaver. “In me.”
“I will erase him.” The dark, dangerous tone in his voice accompanied a menacing step into her.
His intent was clear, and she felt herself slide into acceptance. This was it. She’d given herself over to Sheoul once, knowing she was condemning herself to an eternity of absolute hell.
Somehow, this was harder.
Raphael wrapped his fist in her hair and yanked her head back. She closed her eyes so he wouldn’t see how much she despised him as he slanted his mouth over hers.
“Raphael.” The impossibly deep voice rattled the entire room and made every organ in Harvester’s body quiver with raw terror. “Release her. Now.”
An invisible, electric force pulled them apart. Raphael flew backward, crashing into a marble table that held what was likely a priceless Chinese vase.
Priceless before it shattered on the floor.
Harvester spun toward the newcomer, her initial terror turning to shock at the sight of the male filling the room with the sheer force of his presence.
“R-Reaver?”
He sauntered over to Raphael, who was sitting, stunned, in the splintered remains of his vase. Power, as potent as the sun, radiated from Reaver. With a flick of one finger, he lifted Raphael off the ground and suspended him in the air.
“I could have handed you over to Satan.” Reaver flared his wings, and Harvester gaped. Gold. They were… gold. Never before had she seen such a thing, but she knew angelic history the same as everyone else.