Page 14 of Tempting Azagoth (Angelic Shorts #1)

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AZAGOTH

A zagoth’s wings trailed behind him, twitching with the same anxious energy riding through him. He darted frequent glances at Delilah’s resting form, nearly tripping over his own feet on one such instance. Shadows lingered beneath her eyes, sharp cheekbones standing out, and he could trace the hard ridge of her collarbone with a single finger.

Her beauty awed him despite the ravages wrought upon her body by her prior living conditions.

Perhaps I made the Chosen’s deaths too quick .

His hunger surged, clawing for freedom to feast until he paraded down blood soaked streets and the skies split as his hallowed brethren flew down to smite him.

A passing fantasy, nothing more.

Besides, why borrow more trouble when Samael demanded his presence?

He could’ve come directly to Azagoth or sent a psychic probe. Instead, he sent Tamiel, making it public and Fallen do love their spectacles.

“Mhm,” Delilah whimpered softly, drawing his attention back to his mate, his Fated .

Would Samael want her or try to take her from him?

“Az.” The croaked whisper hastened him to her side, and he cupped her small, fragile hands between his larger, clawed ones.

“You are well. Your body just needed a time out from too much stimulation at once. I should’ve known better,” he cooed, brushing a strand of hair from her furrowed forehead.

“Is everything okay?” She blinked drowsy brown eyes at him.

Teeth, sharp and cutting, dug into his bottom lip and his throat convulsed with the lie he wanted to utter but couldn’t.

Fuck !

Once an angel, always a fucking angel.

“I will make it so.” He skirted the truth, as was the way of the Fallen.

Deceiver? Yes .

He could convince a mortal the sky was green without ever speaking the lie—deception, a weapon he wielded with ease. But, his wings quivered with unease from brandishing it at his mate.

Her doe eyes said she didn’t believe him, distrust unfurling in the gaze he could get lost in for eternity.

He leaned forward to brush his lips along the seam of her mouth. Her gasp kissed his lips and his nostrils flared for a whiff of her sweet arousal, slowly blooming in the space where their bodies didn’t touch. He remained positioned above her, his pants once more acting as a barrier between them and the sheet he sprawled over her sleeping form shielded her lush body from his greedy gaze.

“The Morningstar requests an audience with us,” he confessed. As the male himself didn’t show up demanding they meet him, request didn’t count as a lie.

Her hair wound around the finger he trailed through, the strands escaping her braid .

“I will do everything in my power to make sure we’re okay, that you are safe. Don’t worry your head about it,” he said, returning his hand to her forehead to smooth the wrinkles forming there.

She didn’t listen, nibbling on her lip with an anxious energy sprouting around her.

He sighed, leaning away.

“Samael is my brother. I have not transgressed on his domain nor broken any laws I’m aware of, even though the Fallen have few of those. We prefer to govern ourselves as long as we don’t risk another war with the heavens. He may merely be curious about you ,” he said, hoping his words mollified her.

Later, he would mentally tick off the Fallen he remained on good terms with.

As a precaution. No sense in walking to one’s death unprepared.

But he said none of that to Delilah, his newly claimed Chosen. This was the beginning of the rest of their lives together and he intended to make it a long one.

He’ll deal with Samael and politics tomorrow. Tonight, he’d pamper his mate—run her a bath, massage the aches in her tender body and feed her the best food he could conjure up .

His sweet, delicious temptation of a mate deserved the world, and he had the rest of eternity to provide it.

Not even The Devil will stop him from doing that.