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Summer

“ J ust let me get changed quickly?”

Connor nods and moves in closer. He bends his head slightly, kissing down my throat.

I moan softly. “How am I supposed to get ready like this?”

He playfully bites my neck. “Well… half of getting ready is getting undressed, and I happen to enjoy undressing you very, very much.”

I shiver, my fingers grasping his shirt. He slowly tugs my shirt up over my stomach, his lips leaving a trail of heat wherever he touches. He pulls back to slide my shirt off and throws it to the side, but then his mouth is on mine, and he is kissing me deeply. His tongue slides along the seam of my lips, begging for entry.

I open for him and tug at his shirt.

“Connor!” Farrah calls from downstairs.

He groans against my lips. “I’ll be right back, okay?” I nod and lick my lips as he pulls back. He groans again, his gaze locked on the flick of my tongue. “Seriously, Summer. Don’t move. I will be right back.”

I grin up at him. “I will be right here.”

Connor leaves the room at a near run, eager to get back. I sigh and look around. There is a stack of old notebooks on his desk. I smile and wander over, picking one up off the top and sitting on his bed, flipping it open. His handwriting is disjointed and young, filled with such innocence. I turn to the first page and start reading. It’s a personal profile with a small photograph of a mini Connor attached to the corner of the page, the familiar kindness in his blue eyes unmistakable. His features are boyish and soft, but the potential of what he will become is still there. His short blonde hair is windswept, and he smiles brightly at the camera, his wide grin revealing a missing front tooth.

Name: Connor Azrael Morningstar

Age: 8.5

Favorite color: I like the blue on the dress capes for the Legion!

Favorite food: My mom’s triple chocolate cake is the yummiest!

Best friend: My little brother Rafe and my dad

What do you want to be when you grow up? I want to be an archangel and I want to have a beautiful wife, just like my mom, who has the brightest wings!

My phone rings, and I glance at the screen, immediately answering when I see Alice’s face.

“Are you okay?” I ask in place of a greeting.

“Yeah, I’m good. Just thought I should check in,” Alice replies, and my whole body relaxes. “How’s it going with his family? Are you freaking out yet?”

My lips twitch as I look back at the profile. “Not yet,” I say, but uncertainty wiggles through me as I read it again. These are the words of a child, but at some point, he dreamed of being with an angel with bright wings. He wanted an affectionate, loving, and open woman, someone like his mom. None of those things are me.

“Al?”

“Yeah?”

“Nothing. I need to get ready to go out.” My lips curve in a smile, but I can feel myself shutting down. I try to stop it. The newly awakened part of me that craves connection and warmth screams to remain free. But the more dominant side of me has trained for decades to build walls the moment there is even the slightest risk of getting hurt, and it is already hard at work.

“Summer?” Alice asks, obviously having heard a shift in my tone.

“I’ll talk to you later.” I end the call, feeling like a dick, knowing that I shouldn’t have cut her off like that. Looking back down at the journal, the shroud of my impostor syndrome drapes over me, heavy and oppressive. This isn’t right. Something isn’t right. I don’t belong here. I’m a spore of negativity ready to latch onto the slightest ray of joy, to feed from it, and there is so much of it here, so much I could destroy.

I need to get out of here. I close the journal and quickly change before leaving Connor’s room and heading for the front door.

Connor catches me around the waist before I can escape, and I tense in his arms. “I was just about to come back up, babe. My mom just needed help with something.”

“So, where are we going?” I ask, carefully trying to shift out of his hold, desperate to get out of the house.

“Oh, you’re going to have the best time!” Farrah says, coming through from the kitchen. “If you’re scouting for future houses, make sure to look near to here! I want to be close to my grandbabies!”

My stomach twists, and I swallow, the reality of this weekend crashing down on me. I’m being unreasonable, but I can’t stop it. The panic has sunk its sharp claws into me, and I can’t escape.

“Mom, you’re going to freak her out,” Connor says, tightening his arms around me and kissing my head.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Farrah says, her face falling a little. The sight is so upsetting that my panic subsides a little.

“It’s okay. Honestly.” My words surprise even me, and the way my voice betrays none of my inner panic is borderline impressive.

“We’re just going to the edge of Heaven, and then we’ll be back,” Connor says, kissing my head again.

The edge of Heaven. The words prompt a visceral reaction. Eden is only a small part of the larger realm. It is home to the Heavenly Host, those who prepare for the inevitable war against Hell, but there is much more to the vast realm.

Uriel walks up behind Farrah, wrapping his arms around her.

“Oh, Uriel. Remember the first time you took me there?” she says, leaning back against him.

Uriel cups her chin in his big hand and tips her head back, feathering a kiss over her lips. “Yes. And I remember Michael catching us when we were?—”

Connor releases me to cover his ears. “Okay, we’re leaving!” he exclaims before lowering one of his hands to grab my wrist and yank me out of the house. I wave at Uriel and Farrah, but they are gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes, and I don’t think they notice.

The perfect moment between them amps up my panic again. That is what Connor wants, and it is what he deserves. That isn’t something I will ever be able to give him.

When we get into the elevator, Connor pulls me close, kissing my cheek and nuzzling my throat. I don’t move or even react, too lost in my own mind to feel it. With every brush of his lips over my skin, I retreat more. Fuck. I hate this. Why am I like this?

If Connor notices, he doesn’t mention it. When the door opens, he leads me to the edge of the cloud and scoops me up in his arms, cradling me against his chest. He grins down at me, his eyes alight with mischief, and then he falls. The wind rushes at us, and I clutch at him, feeling his chest vibrate with a chuckle. His wings explode from his back, turning our descent into a long, arching swoop. My scream turns to laughter as he weaves through the clouds toward the massive city, and I am grateful for the distraction.

Connor lands on a wide, flat clearing on the edge of the city that looks like it was designed for exactly that. As we walk along the pristine streets, angels bow their heads to Connor and he smiles back at them. The quaint stores have lovely window displays, and large planters overflow with color, vibrant flowers spilling over the sides.

“I’m never going to get used to that,” Connor whispers into my ear. I tip my head questioningly. “The bowing,” he clarifies.

I smile, though I can tell it doesn’t reach my eyes. “I’m sure you will in time.”

It’s his future. Connor is one of the leaders of the Heavenly Host. He is meant to serve under the Seven, Michael, Gabriel, Rafael, Azrael, Jophiel, Zadkiel, and Uriel, his father and uncles. Gods, he is royalty. He is meant to have a wife with perfect white wings.

“I doubt it.” He scrunches his nose and then squeezes my hand. “How’s Alice?”

I frown, looking up at him. “Alice?”

“I’m assuming you called her when I went to help my mom.”

My heart clenches painfully with the proof that he already knows me so well. He is always watching and listening, always so focused on me and my needs. He has made it his goal to truly know me, and he has committed himself to the endeavor.

“Oh. Well, she called me. I didn’t call her, but she’s fine.”

Connor stops walking so suddenly that someone bumps into him. At first, the angel looks affronted, but when he realizes who he’s walked into, he apologizes profusely. Connor doesn’t acknowledge him, his eyes boring into me. I turn to face him.

“All right, I’m picking up on some signals. Something’s wrong,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest.

I look away, unsure how to react. This isn’t something I’ve ever had to deal with. I suppose that’s because I’ve never allowed someone to get to know me before. Oh, look, if it isn’t the consequences of my own actions. I am such a fucking idiot.

“Nothing’s wrong,” I lie.

“You know, I’m not as good at it as Zane, but I can still taste lies.” He narrows his eyes at me. “And yours taste like acid rain.”

I sigh. “Con, let’s just go.”

“No.”

There is something about the determination in that word, about the surety of it, that makes me want to push back. I want to test the limits and see what will happen if I do. I lift my chin, staring him down for a long moment.

Connor doesn’t move. He just keeps staring at me. It’s actually more of a glare, and I’m borderline impressed. I had no idea his perfect, happy-go-lucky face could look so angry. At this moment, I realize how similar he looks to his dad.

My stubborn side takes over, and I turn on my heel and walk away, deciding to explore myself.