Page 80 of Princess of Bael

I blinked up at it, amused by the dots swimming in the distance.Angels, I realized as one swooped down in a twirl of feathers.Fascinating.

My vision started to blur, so I let my eyes close.

And when I opened them again, the blue sky had turned dark with night.

No…I narrowed my gaze.No, not the sky. A ceiling.

Only, it was about thirty feet over my head and shadowed by the lack of overhead lighting. Curtains were drawn to my left, blocking the windows. Or maybe they were blocking a wall, because they stretched from the floor all the way up to the high ceiling.

I frowned.Where am I?

I twisted in the silky sheets, my bare skin clammy and sticking to the fabric.

Why am I naked?This wasn’t a fun reality to wake up to at all.

Except…Ezra.

He lay beside me, eyes closed and just as naked as me.

I startled, realizing my bare skin wasn’t just touching sheets but also touchingEzra.

His body acted as a blanket for my side while a thin fabric covered my top. Well, partly, anyway. The blanket seemed to be twisted around our waists.

Which left my chest exposed.

And his chest as well.

I immediately pressed my palm to his ribs, noting the red mark over his chest. The holy blade had been removed, and his skin appeared to be fully mended. Just that dark spot remained, reminding me of a healing bruise.

I traced it with my fingertips while wondering,Is this real? Or is this a dream?

He felt warm to the touch, but not overly so. Merely alive. Energy thrummed through him to me and vice versa, our bond stronger than ever before.

Because of the blood exchange, I realized.Assuming that really happened.

His skin appeared otherwise unblemished, his coloring normal.

I eyed the spiral of black ink decorating the length of his left arm. He’d mostly worn long-sleeved shirts in my presence, hiding the beautiful design from my view. It reminded me of warrior markings. I nearly traced the ornate tattoo with my fingertips, but I didn’t want to risk waking him.

Not with us both naked in bed, anyway.

I inhaled, his woodsy scent swirling around me in a kiss of sunshine mingling with autumn leaves.Heavenly, I admitted. Which was appropriate, considering our current location.

Except he was missing his wings.

How long will it take for them to grow back?I wondered, recalling the inferno that had destroyed his plumes. This picture seemed incomplete without his feathers.

I inhaled again, allowing his natural cologne to calm my nerves.They’ll grow back, I told myself.They have to grow back.

My eyes drifted shut once more as I lost myself to his fragrance and the silky texture of his skin. It was a secret indulgence, one I would likely regret later. But I craved his touch right now, his strength, hisexistence.

I curled into his side, my head pillowed against his shoulder, my palm flattening over his healing mark.

Just five minutes, I told myself.That’s all we can afford.

I also didn’t want to risk him waking up to me pressed up against him.

However, his smooth breaths told me he was very much lost to sleep.