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I stood from the couch and grabbed my jacket. I slipped it on and was halfway to the door when Rathiel’s voice stopped me in my tracks.

“Where are you going?”

“To the bar,” I said, keeping my tone light. “Mason’s working tonight, and with luck, Eliza might show up too. Figured I’d knock out two birds with one stone.”

“There’s no way in Hell you’re going alone,” he said, striding toward me, his long legs making quick work of the distance.

I turned, frowning. “I’ll be fine. It’s just the bar. You know, the one where I used to work?”

“That’s exactly the problem,” he shot back. “That’s the first place the fallen would look for you. I won’t risk it. Remember what happened last time.”

I flinched, the memory hitting like a punch to the gut. Jack’s lifeless body flashed through my mind, but I quickly shoved the thought down and forced myself to hold Rathiel’s gaze. I opened my mouth to argue again, but before I could get the words out, he closed the distance between us. His hand came up, and he gently clasped my chin, tilting my face up so I had no choice but to look at him. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through me, and the emotions in his eyes—raw, vulnerable, and fierce—made my breath catch.

“I will not risk your life again,” he said, his voice steady but brimming with intensity. “Not now, not ever. I’ve already lost you once, Lily.”

His thumb brushed lightly against my jaw, and my heart thudded painfully in my chest. “You don’t remember,” he continued, his voice dropping to a whisper, “but I do. I remember what it felt like to see you broken, bleeding, and slipping away. I’ll be damned if I let that happen again.”

“Rathiel…” I whispered, unsure of what to say, unsure if I could even speak past the lump in my throat.

He leaned in slightly, his eyes never leaving mine. “You don’t have to do this alone, Lily. Not anymore. Whatever comes, wherever we go—I’m with you. Always.”

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. The sincerity in his words, the way he said my name like it was a prayer, left me completely undone.

“Fine,” I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. “But only if you promise not to hover like some overprotective watchdog.”

His lips twitched in the faintest ghost of a smile. “No promises.”

“Figures,” I muttered, stepping back and trying to ignore the warmth lingering where his hand had been. “Let’s go, then.”