Page 33 of Wings of Valor (Silver City University #4)

T wo days later, I’m standing outside of Zeke’s room while the healers finish another round of physiotherapy before releasing him. He’ll still need to continue working his wing, but at least he can spend his nights with us.

Since he’s woken up, I haven’t left his side other than to get a few hours of sleep. I tried to deny the lead healer’s suggestion to go get some rest, but his no-nonsense tone gave it away that I didn’t really have a choice.

Being too far from him right now scares me. And not just because the fusion of his wing is still so unsure, or that I’m worried Auriel will somehow take him back from me. There are angels here I’m worried about.

The council has been desperate to speak with him since he woke up.

We might have dealt a hard blow to our enemies, but it hasn’t stopped Auriel.

From what we’ve been hearing, all it’s done is move up his schedule.

But Zeke only just woke up. After what felt like an eternity of him being gone, I finally have him back.

He’s no longer kept in a cage like a stray dog, being tortured for information.

The last thing he needs is to relive it all in front of a room full of unknown angels and Archangel strangers.

The door opens, and the healer walks out, smiling. “He’ll be ready in a few minutes. Please make sure he checks in every few days and continues to do his exercises, but don’t let him overdo it.”

“I’ll follow your orders, don’t worry,” Zeke says—and holy fucking shit. Is that a blush coloring his cheeks? Cute.

“It’s been an honor working with you. The highlight of my career, if I’m to be honest.” The healer’s smile is so bright, it’s damn near blinding, and his kind words only make Zeke even more uncomfortable.

Once I’ve had my fill of his blushing cheeks, I say, “Thanks again!” and then tug Zeke down the hall.

We take our time, not rushing our strides.

With Zeke at my side—his hand in mine—I feel whole again.

I wish Raphael and Theo were here, too, but they’ve been trying to give me and Zeke some time alone.

It hasn’t gone unnoticed by either of us.

“Where are the rest of your shadows?” Zeke asks, teasing.

“They’re waiting for us back at our section of rooms, but I wanted to show you something first.”

Zeke pulls my body into his until my back is flush with his front. “Does it happen to involve you and limited clothing?” He kisses my neck, making me melt into his touch.

“Not exactly what I had in mind, at least, not yet,” I say, arching into him before teleporting a few feet away.

He stares at me, then rubs his eyes like he can’t quite believe what he just saw.

“So, I can teleport now,” I tell him, feeling a little self-conscious as I shoot back to his side. “It’s pretty new. Mira helped me before, you know, everything fell apart.”

His eyes grow dark, but not in the way I usually like to see. And when he speaks, his words are in complete contrast to the look on his face. “You amaze me.”

He kisses the tip of my nose, causing me to giggle. We walk a little further in a comfortable silence, and when we pass by a set of stairs, Zeke stops.

“Be right back,” he says, then climbs the steps two at a time. When he reaches the top, he takes a deep breath and then lets his wings unfurl from his back.

“What are you doing?” I ask, lurching forward like I can stop him. He spreads his wings wide, and even though my view is limited from this angle, I swear I can see the slight glow of gold that now emanates from where I reattached his wing.

“I only want to test it, to see if my wings can hold my weight.”

“Zeke …”

“I’d rather try it here with only you and this short distance to fall if it doesn’t work. I promise I’ll stop if it hurts, but I need to do this.”

Despite the distance between us, I can tell just how much he means what he says, so I nod and swallow past my fear. If I’m honest with myself, it’s not just fear of him getting hurt. I’m worried what I did won’t hold, and I’ll wind up disappointing him. Disappointing everyone.

I tried talking to Castiel about it, who spoke with Phiel on my behalf, but the old book he has doesn’t give any indication on whether wing refastening is possible. It only mentions how easy healing another angel can be. As easy as breathing, the text said, and I suppose it was.

Holding my breath, I watch as he takes a small jump from the top of the stairs. His wings catch him and he grimaces, but he keeps them out, giving little flaps until his feet land in front of me.

It’s only then that I suck in air. “You did it,” I say, breathless. Relieved.

He nods, stretching out his wings again before letting them disappear.

“It was harder to flap, like my muscles are weaker on that wing, which I think makes sense. But that’s an easy fix.

Far better off than I’d be if you hadn’t reattached it,” he says, gripping my chin.

“Thank you. I can still fly because of you.”

I wonder if he can tell how much comfort his words bring me. His wing works . All this doubt I’ve had tumbling around inside my head, this worry that I got his hopes up for nothing, it’s eased off.

We stop in front of a door, and I don’t miss the curious look from Zeke.

This room is locked by a device that’s similar to what we use at the dorms. Only this one has an additional step.

Not only do I have to scan my wing to get in, but I also have to type in a nine-digit code.

Annoying? Yes. But with so much uncertainty around who we can trust, we need the added security.

“Where exactly are you taking me, hummingbird?”

A shy grin spreads across my face. “Do you remember the first time I imbued?”

Zeke’s eyes flash with heat. “That moment is seared into my memory, along with what came after.”

I lean against the door, recalling the kiss, the way he’d devoured me on the workbench—and the awkwardness that followed. Not a day I’ll forget, either. “Well, I put everything you taught me and every ounce of my fear and frustration to good use. Now close your eyes until I say so.”

He immediately does what I ask, even covering his eyes with his hands for good measure. Opening the door, I pull Zeke inside. It clicks shut behind us, blocking out the rest of the world and leaving just the two of us and the hum of energy. “You can open them now.”

His sharp intake of breath makes me giddy, and I watch as he looks around the room in awe. There are hundreds of weapons in here, in all different shapes and sizes, and all imbued with my sunfire. Swords, daggers, arrow tips, and each one casts the room in a soft golden glow.

“It’s beautiful,” he says, his gaze finally meeting mine. Within the depths of his green eyes, I see the golden light reflected back at me, making this moment almost surreal. “But how? There are so many.” He reaches out, tracing his fingers along the hilt of several blades.

“I spent a lot of time here while you were gone. The Archangels and their council weren’t too keen on letting us help at first. I felt so fucking useless, so I came here where at least I could put my energy into something worthwhile.”

In one stride, Zeke stands in front of me.

“You could never be useless.” He moves a few strands of hair that have escaped my bun, running just the tips of his fingers along my jaw.

“Even if you weren’t a Seraphim. You kept me alive out there, and as mentally aware as I could be.

You. Not what you can do, but who you are.

Gods, there were so many times I was tired, hungry, dehydrated, crusted with blood, and barely able to make sense of the world.

You were my guiding star. Every coherent moment I had, I thought of you.

Your scent, the feel of your hand in mine, how much your parents mean to you.

I thought of the way you taste and how you fuel my blood beyond compare.

And I swear I felt you once, begging for me to come back. ”

My eyes sting with a wave of tears that I try to hold back. It’s futile, especially when I realize the moment he’s likely talking about. The night with Raphael and Theo, when they told me to put every thought I had into Zeke, hoping he’d feel my desperation for him to return. It worked.

“I love you,” I whisper, voice gruff with too much emotion.

“And I love you.” He dips his head, lips capturing mine in a fierce kiss that makes me want to jump his bones. But as much as I want to take this all the way, I want him to feel safe. Secure. Loved. He deserves all of that and more.

He grips my ass, and I know what’s coming. He’ll toss me into his arms, clear the desk behind me, and finish what we started in his dad’s workshop. I still owe him for that, and it’s time I pay up.

I stroke my hand down his chest and over the hard length of his cock through his jeans, distracting him. “I missed this,” I croon, feeling him shudder beneath me.

“I need to feel you, hummingbird. I need your heat wrapped around me.”

Dropping to my knees, I fumble with the button of his jeans. His hand covers mine, and when I look up, our eyes lock.

“I can handle fucking you, you know,” he says, eyes full of hunger.

“I know.” My voice is soft, almost shy. “But please, let me do this. Let me take care of you. You can fuck me later. For now, I just need to know you’re here. You’re alive. And I want to make you feel good, Zeke. Please.”

He stares at me, hand still on top of mine. But then he nods, his green eyes growing hooded as he watches me on my knees for him. I free his cock and nearly cry at the sight of it.

He’s here. He’s alive.

There’s already precum glistening beneath the glow of the imbued weapons. I dip my head, lapping it up, and sigh at the taste.

He’s here. He’s alive.

I grip the base with one hand, feeling his veins pulse with blood as he grows even thicker in my palm. Then I lean forward and suck his tip into my mouth. His groan sends little zaps of pleasure straight to my clit, but I ignore my need to get off. It’s not about that. Not now.

Zeke spent far too long being tortured because of me. He deserves to feel something good for a change.

Twirling my tongue around his crown, I slowly take more of him until my eyes water and my breaths don’t come. Then I back off and do it again.

His hands are in my hair, guiding my movements.

“Eyes on me.”

I do as I’m told, and what I find in his gaze is enough to make me want to cry.

Unbridled desire and love. He takes control, fucking into my mouth like a man starved.

I don’t care if my knees are sore or that saliva runs down my chin.

I keep my gaze locked on him and push every ounce of love through our connection, just like I did before.

I know the second he feels it, because his eyes widen, muscles flexing. His dick jerks, balls tightening beneath my hand.

“I’m not going to last much—” His words die as I hollow my cheeks, swallowing him down.

Liquid warmth shoots down my throat as he roars his release. The sound he makes is primal.

He’s here. He’s alive.

And I won’t let that fucker Auriel hurt him—or anyone else I love—ever again.