Page 13

Beau

Seconds stretch into an eternity, and nothing makes sense.

The sun’s light softens, the trees and grass disappearing behind a veil. Otherworldly pink washes everything away as Az slams into me with a muffled grunt. It’s like the rest of the world doesn’t exist as the woman bellows her rage, but I can’t see her.

I can’t see anything , and I wonder for a terrifying second if I’ve gone blind.

Reality returns with a sudden, jarring clarity as Azrael withdraws, his calm, uncertain demeanor replaced with pure, seething wrath and a sure-footed certainty. Enormous pink wings project from his back, each feather a masterpiece that shimmers like a pastel oil spill in the afternoon sun.

Alright, not blind, just crazy.

The soft lines of his face have hardened and his eyes blaze as he stands tall, bow in his hand and an arrow readied.

Pointed straight at Delilah.

There is no shake to his arms, only steady confidence as the bowstring twangs. His aim is perfect as the shot flies true, and I flinch, waiting for the inevitable stumble backwards. The scream… the blood.

Instead, there’s no arrow.

No pain.

Nothing.

Stone-still, she stands paralyzed, a dewy sweat breaking out on her skin as her eyes flick between us. Just as suddenly, she turns and sprints away, fleeing as though her life depends on it. Azrael watches her run with a twisted satisfaction, but as soon as he glances at me from the corner of his eye, that confidence vanishes.

“Az?” I whisper, and he closes his eyes, shoulders slumping as he faces me.

A soft whoosh of wind breezes over my face as his wings fan out, their span breathtaking as the sun filters through the iridescent feathers. Even with the uncertainty that clouds his face, he’s magnificent as he takes a careful step forward.

“This is what I was trying to tell you.” A tremor runs through his voice, each fragile word barely escaping his throat, and it’s obviously taking tremendous effort to hold himself together. “This is why I couldn’t give you the truth. I’m not human , Beau.”

“You’re… an angel?” It feels foreign as I ask, alien even, and I can’t believe the question is coming from my mouth.

“A Cherub,” he corrects, as though the distinction makes the whole situation any less fantastical.

“And that…” I swallow as I gesture at the weapon in his hands. Time has taken its toll on the bow. The brass and gold are heavily weathered, with a patina hinting that it has been used over lifetimes. “That’s why you needed help with your aim?”

“It is.”

My eyes fall to his wing, where a deep, scarlet stain mars the soft pink, a molasses flow of blood dripping over his feathers. “You’re hurt.”

He spares a quick glance at the wound and shakes his head. “It’ll heal in a few minutes, Beau. That’s not important right now.” Defeated acceptance crosses his face as he takes another cautious step towards me, eyes darting and Adam’s apple bobbing. And I know what he’s waiting for.

Rejection.

He waits for me to walk away from him, to abandon him like everyone else in his life has always abandoned him. Eyes already misty with tears, he waits for the inevitable crushing blow as his delicate chin trembles.

“This is all my fault,” he says, failing in his attempt to keep his voice steady. “The only reason Delilah has been stalking you is because I made a mistake. I was distracted when I shot her with my arrow, and she was looking at the wrong man.”

“And… what…” My voice catches, and I have to clear my throat as my pulse pounds. “What exactly does your arrow do?”

“I think you know the answer to that,” he whispers, gray eyes finally meeting mine before flicking away.

“No, no, I really don’t.” Insistence turns my tone forceful, just on this side of shouting, and he flinches. My heart tears straight in half as I war between my desire to comfort him and the need to get answers. I force calm into my voice as I say, “Sweetheart, I need you to explain to me exactly what’s going on right now.”

He lets out a long, weary sigh, the distance between us a tangible thing as he tucks his wings back to… wherever they go. Without them, he looks small again, timid and fragile.

One misplaced word, and he’d be swept away from me like a leaf in a storm.

“A few weeks ago, I was selected for a temporary position. Seraphiel needed a break, right? He was making so many mistakes… and we’re not talking tiny little whoopsies. These were big mistakes with real, major, life-altering consequences.”

I nod because I need him to keep speaking, even though I’m not really sure what’s happening. “They—the Heavenly Council, although it was probably just Micah—decided someone needed to take his place. Give him a month off, so, y’know, World War is avoided.”

“Wait… World War?” I interrupt, voice strained, when I remember the recent news frenzy. “Oh… my… God . The President and the Queen of England.”

He swallows and nods, but holds a hand up to stop my spiral. “It’s why they had to force him on an extended leave. A few people I know had invited me out, and I… I don’t have a lot of friends. Not many people want to hang out with me, so I went. We all had a few too many beers, and they wanted to enter the raffle. I-I didn’t, but I wanted to fit in. It was... nice to be included for once, so I went along with it. They thought it would be funny. But it wasn’t funny, Beau. Never in a million years did I believe I’d be picked, and it was stressful. My inhaler got a workout that day.”

Only half of his story makes sense, but he seems like he needs to get it out, so I stay quiet and let him continue. “At first, I was so terrible. It was awful . I’m pretty sure I gave a homophobic Catholic family at least one heart attack, and I had to crawl over the nasty department store carpet because I couldn’t hit my targets. You saw how bad I was! And then Delilah happened. She matched with someone else, but she and I both got distracted when you walked into the store. I accidentally shot her while she was looking at you, and it resulted in her being… kind of obsessed.”

His hands wring for a second as he stares off to where Delilah vanished. “Not many people know there are two types of arrows. One for love, the other for protection. When I hit her just now, it didn’t hurt, only made her run. Gave her the need to flee.”

“I never thought you would hurt her,” I say gently, and he shoots me a wobbly smile as he swipes at his eye.

“That day at the grocery store, I accidentally shot myself, too. The reason I was holding back with you was because I was afraid. I was terrified that my feelings were fake… that it was a product of the magic. But Micah told me Cherubs are immune to the arrows, so it’s real.” His voice cracks and lip wobbles as he looks at me, so much vulnerability shining in those stormy eyes. “Everything I feel for you is real, and it’s big and scary and real , Beau.”

His chest heaves in heavy breaths as I inch forward, unable to help myself as I swipe at the corner of his eye where a tear beads, ready to fall. “What are you saying, Az?”

“What I’m saying is you’ve got my truths now, all of them. That’s my secret, Beau. I’m The Cupid. But more importantly? I love you. I’m so in love with you, I can’t see anything else. Can’t think of anything else. I am head-over-heels, give-up-my-wings, change-my-entire-life in love with you.”