Page 15

Beau

Waking up in the Cherub realm for the first time was dreamlike, and it took me a moment to register that I was actually awake. In reality, it isn’t too different from being at home, only… softer. Like you’re staring at the world through a filter that makes it all a little more serene. The colors outside are soothing, the sun behind the screen of buttery-soft clouds so it’s never too bright, while a sweet perfume permeates the air—sugary like Azrael.

And then there was the way Az woke me.

It was still daylight when we roused from our nap, and I felt as if I’d slept a full eight hours. It made me wonder if days work the same here, or if sleep is simply better. Those thoughts were quickly silenced, though, when Azrael positioned himself underneath me. He stroked me with one hand while the other worked out the plug, begging me to push the cum from my ass onto his chest.

I licked it off his skin while I fucked him, and we ended up in boneless puddles of satisfaction on the bed. It was there, curled up and sweaty, that we decided it was time to figure out a plan.

After a shower, of course.

“Will you get in trouble for having me here?”

Az gnaws at his lip, seesawing his hand in front of him. “Trouble is a relative term.”

“Do you need to take me home?” As much as I’d love to explore this place—a literal heavenly realm— I don’t want Az punished for bringing me here. Especially when I was the one who insisted on coming.

“Honestly? It would probably keep me from getting my ass chewed out,” he says with a nervous laugh. “But I also think if Micah sees us together, he’ll understand.”

“Micah?”

“Yeah, he’s the boss up here.”

“Wait… there’s a Cherub that outranks you? Cupid has a boss?”

Another of those soft chuckles leaves him as he pulls on fresh clothes. “ The Cupid, and yes. Everyone has a boss. I told you, I just work in PR.” A loud, amused exhale pushes from my nose as he turns towards me wearing a purple Fly Guy t-shirt.

It makes so much sense now.

“Micah isn’t a Cherub, though. He’s an Archangel.”

My face must give away my shock, because Az’s lips pull into a tight line. “Seriously, if you’re uncomfortable, you don’t have to come with me.”

“He won’t… I dunno, smite me or anything, will he?”

Az snorts, leaning into my side as I wrap my arm around his shoulder. “No. He’ll be irritated I brought you here without asking for permission… and he’ll be irritated we’re showing up with no appointment…”

“Sounds like he’s always irritated,” I mutter, and Az lights up in a smile as he hugs my waist.

“Hey, you do know him, after all!” We both chuckle as he releases me, sitting on the bed to slide on his shoes. “If we go together, he will recognize our soul match, and I think he’ll be more likely to see reason once he does.”

“Soul match?”

Az nods. “Cherubs—and Angels—can view souls to gauge how good or not-so-good they are. Their character, values, inner belief system… it’s all on display. That’s what tells me if two souls are appropriately matched, and how I decide whether to shoot.”

“What did you see when you first looked at me?”

He smiles then, a happy, relaxed one that nearly splits his gorgeous face in half. “A bright, beautiful soul that likes to help others and, at the time, had a terribly suppressed bisexual side.” He laughs at my grimace.

“You could see that, huh?”

“It’s why I was so hesitant to get involved with you… although we know how long that lasted.”

I pull him into another hug and nuzzle my nose into his hair, inhaling his sweet cinnamon scent. “You are the most amazing person I’ve ever met. I don’t need to view souls to know yours is blinding.”

His only response is a sniffle as he buries his face in my neck.

Okay.

Alright.

Azrael is gorgeous, right? But he’s cute.

Sweet and innocent and absolutely fucking adorable, with those giant eyes and pouty lips, and those corkscrew curls that hang over his crinkly, anxiety-ridden forehead.

Cute, cute.

So, forgive me for not realizing that archangels are not, in fact, cute.

They are goddamn terrifying.

Micah is a beast of a man, easily seven feet tall, with a wingspan that’s double that. And archangels, apparently, don’t wear fucking shirts, because why would they? His pale, almost shimmery, skin is basically just spray-painted over marble-carved muscles that have no business being so defined.

Maintaining those abs must be a full-time job, because holy shit!

Lilac purple eyes crackle with lightning—actual lightning—as his nostrils flare.

The condescending tilt of his head, loaded to the brim with judgment, does a fantastic job of making us feel utterly worthless. He stares down the bridge of his perfectly sculpted nose, pushing out his chest and causing his imposing figure to become even more threatening.

“What is the meaning of this, Azrael?” he bellows, his voice doing this weird multi-dimensional thing that sounds like there’s three of him speaking at once. “A human is in my realm and paraded into my office without my knowledge or permission? You are young and foolish, child, but this? ”

His hand sweeps in my direction, energy crackling in tiny sparks off his fingertips. “This is a level of sheer idiocy that even your terrible track record can’t explain. Tell me, have you ever considered using that brain of yours, or do you just assume it to be worthless?”

Az cowers, shame flooding his face and neck in a crimson tide as his gaze drops to the floor. He’s helpless—timid in a way he hasn’t been since I first met him.

“That's enough. You’re nothing but a bully,” I growl as something inside me snaps. A dangerous glint flares in Micah’s wide eyes as they whip to me, but I refuse to back down. “Find someone closer to your size to pick on, you overgrown butterfly.”

Fury overrides my sense of self-preservation as I press my hand against his brick wall of a chest and shove. It doesn’t accomplish a single thing other than enraging him, but I stand my ground even as Az pleads for me to stop.

“Foolish human,” he snarls, squinting his eyes and leaning closer until we’re nose to nose. Despite the natural urge to clench my ass, piss myself and flee, I hold steady. “This does not concern you.”

“If it concerns Azrael, it concerns me. I won’t stand by and watch you terrorize him just to satisfy your need to be a playground bully. Angelic, my ass. If all the Heavens offer is a bunch of gym-rat know-it-alls, send me downstairs to Hell and I’ll take my chances with the fiery pits.”

“That could be arranged,” he says, every word deliberate as the lightning storm in his eyes flashes brighter.

“Try me, angel boy.” I give him a snarl of my own, and for a long second, we face off, neither of us blinking.

And then he throws his head back and laughs.

It’s a deep, bellowing sound, and I can only stare in shock. When I glance over my shoulder at Az, he looks just as confused. Micah swipes at his eyes with a giant smile illuminating his otherworldly face. All those stupidly perfect angles are devastatingly beautiful when he wipes the scowl away.

“Finally,” he says, a chuckle still rumbling in his chest as he shakes his head. “A human with some balls. It has been centuries since anyone stood up to me. Please, sit.”

The occasional rogue huff of laughter slips loose as we follow him into his office, both of us hesitant. A marble monstrosity of a desk stands in front of a white leather executive-style chair, and Micah’s wings fall seamlessly into the slits carved into the back.

Why doesn’t it surprise me that he’s too vain to put them away?

Azrael and I both sit in the chairs opposite him, and I weave his trembling fingers through mine, squeezing as I rest our joined hands on his thigh.

Micah watches us, his scrutiny still heavy, but with more room to breathe. “You are well matched,” he observes, his voice holding a clinical curiosity. For the first time, he assesses me as more than an annoyance, a hint of genuine interest in his eyes. “ Very well matched, actually. This is the human you have spoken to me about, Azrael?”

He takes a fortifying breath before he nods. “It is. And if you want me to stay on as The Cupid, we’re going to have to figure something out, because I won’t give this up… I won’t lose him.”

“You are not in any position to be making demands, Azrael,” Micah warns, and I tense as I wait for him to lose his temper again. Instead, he purses his lips, staring thoughtfully at Az.

“Actually, I think I’m in exactly the position to make demands.” Az’s false bravado is lessened by his giant, terrified eyes, but I’m proud of him for speaking up, even if his voice went a little squeaky.

Micah, on the other hand, does not look quite as amused.

It’s been quiet for so long that I startle when the archangel speaks. “You have proven to be quite the surprise, haven’t you? We haven’t seen such high success rates from The Cupid in at least fifteen hundred years, and believe me when I say no one, and I mean no one , was as shocked as I was.”

“Always with the vote of confidence,” Azrael mumbles, and Micah smirks with an indifferent, one-shouldered shrug.

“You're well aware I did not support you stepping into the role, Azrael. I made my opinions known.”

“Bet you did,” I mutter, and his eyes flicker my way, narrowed.

“Which means,” he continues, focusing on Az again, “that even the oldest and wisest of us can be proven wrong from time to time.”

“Modest of you to admit that,” I say.

He lifts that perfectly sculpted brow in my direction. “Watch yourself, human. You are entertaining, but my patience wears thin.” That pointed stare stays locked on me as I mime zipping my lips shut. I stay quiet, letting him have the win.

Better than him lifting his leg and peeing on me to assert his dominance.

“So, where do we go from here?” Azrael asks, forcing both of our attention back to him. “We are at an impasse, because there are only two options. I continue my role as The Cupid, knowing that Beau will age without me, or I give up my wings and live my life with him as a human. You know which one I’d choose.”

Micah sighs, leaning back in his chair as he taps his fancy pen on the desktop. When he finally speaks, he drags the words from his mouth, like each syllable tests his willpower. “There is a third option you haven’t considered.”

Az tilts his head. “And that is?”

A vein throbs in the archangel’s temple as his annoyance skyrockets, and I almost crack a smile at his irritation. Whatever it is he knows, he doesn’t want to share. Doesn’t want to show his hand and give us the advantage. To him, we’re ants in a hill, and he’s the kid with the magnifying glass, deliberating on whether to burn us or allow us to survive.

Honestly, it could go either way.

Finally, Micah pushes out a heavy sigh. “We tie his life force to yours.”

“We what?” Azrael barks, getting a stern glare from Micah at the volume.

“It’s ancient magic that’s rarely used anymore—one that very few people know about. It is kept in the strictest confidence by those privileged enough to be brought in on the secret. A confidence that will continue to be held.” There’s no lack of threat in his tone as he glares between us, and Azrael and I both nod immediately, understanding the unspoken implications. “In the old days, when Angels roamed the Earth more freely, falling in love with a human was a common occurrence. Naturally, they developed a way to avoid the exact scenario you’re facing.”

“How does it work?”

Micah gestures in my direction, not sparing me a glance. “He would remain human, with all those ridiculous vulnerabilities… just as squishy and easy to kill. Car crashes, gunshot wounds… still lethal. Physically, while your influence would make him more durable, he’d always be weak.”

“Thanks,” I deadpan, but he continues to ignore me.

“This is something that requires serious consideration, Azrael. It is not something to be taken lightly. The binding of life force is just that—it causes your souls to become dependent on each other to stay alive. If he dies, so do you.”

“No fucking way,” I interject, drawing both their eyes. “There’s no way in hell I’ll agree to anything that makes him vulnerable. Absolutely not, Az. No.” He squeezes my hand with such insistence it silences me.

“Illness?” he asks, and Micah shakes his head.

“Human illnesses would no longer be a concern, nor would poison.” He shoots me a sideways glare that makes me question if he might be the one to try and poison me.

“But Az has allergies… and uses an inhaler,” I point out, and Micah gives me a bored glance.

“They are an inconvenience, no doubt, but they can’t do any lasting damage.”

Azrael speaks up, bringing the attention back to him. “We can… do this?”

Micah scoffs, flipping his hair in an exaggerated, glamorous toss. “We are Angels . Very little is beyond our capabilities.”

“Except being humble, apparently,” I mutter under my breath, because really… who can blame me?

“Beau,” Az hisses, and I bite my lips between my teeth, refusing to look up and meet anyone’s eyes. Dead silence rings through the office, so quiet you could hear a feather hit the floor. Azrael sits in deep thought, unblinking, before his eyes move to me. “Beau? Baby, why won’t you look at me?”

My gaze remains fixed on the ground. “Because if I do, you’ll have those pretty, giant eyes and I’ll give you whatever you want.”

“Are you planning to spend the rest of our lives avoiding eye contact?”

“If that’s what it takes. Blindfold me, I hear it can be fun.”

“Can you please just look at me?” I surrender with a drawn-out sigh, and regret it immediately.

Operation: Puppy Dog Eyes is in full effect.

“Beau, I love you.”

“I love you, too, but I could never put you at risk like that. You’re asking me to agree to something that would make you easier to hurt. Darlin’… I adore you, but you gotta admit, you’re awfully clumsy.”

“If I may,” Micah interjects, lip pulled up as though he’s staring at gum on the bottom of his shoes. “Injury is not a concern for Azrael. As a full-blooded Cherub, he would not become weaker.”

“But I would make him weaker,” I argue. “If I drive off a bridge, he suffers.” The archangel nods, albeit a little reluctantly.

“If we don’t do this, then I’ll give up my wings. Why don’t you tell him about that, Micah?”

The archangel is less than pleased about being bossed around, but he relents with a haughty huff. “Besides forcing me to work with Seraphiel again? It is an excruciating process for the Cherub involved. The magic would sever the wings from his back as atonement for abandoning his Heavenly position.”

“That’s… barbaric !” I shout, but Micah silences me with a hand.

“Once the ritual is completed, Azrael would be mortal. One hundred percent human, with just as much susceptibility as the rest of your disease-ridden brethren.”

After shooting him another annoyed glare, I redirect my focus to Az. “What’s wrong with the way things are? We can come and go between your home and mine, see each other every day. I want to spend forever together, but not at the expense of your well-being.”

“You would ask me to live without you?” Az asks, and I can’t look away from the storm inside his eyes, those swirling grays holding me prisoner. “Allow me to love you for a lifetime, watching you age while I stand idly by? Come on, baby… you know that’s not going to happen.”

For a long time, I stare, my mind spinning with the implications. My parents are older and realistically, they’d never have to know. Other than them, I have no one else important enough in my life to consider. No siblings, no children.

No one but him.

Hope flickers in Azrael’s eyes as I push out a defeated sigh. He realizes he’s got me. “It’s safe?”

Micah nods, momentarily allowing the tiniest splinter of relief before he hardens once more. “Painless.”

I glance at Az once more, pulling his hand to my mouth and pressing a kiss on each of his knuckles, drinking in the smile that pulls deeper with each one. “Alright, how do we get started?”