by Kiki Howell
She roamed her fingertips along his body, letting her legs do most of the work, even leaning back, feeling his cock press against something gorgeous at the front of her. “Oh...oh, Aaron.”
He moaned, pressing against her nub a little harder.
“I’m close.”
“Going to come, honey?”
She glanced down at him. He was staring at her, his eyes so dark yet bright, his smile turned sexy and intimate. “Yes. Will you come with me?”
“Just holding out for you, baby.” He grunted, his teeth clenched. He was holding out for her.
And that, the thought that he was waiting for her, made her close her eyes, something inside breaking free while she orgasmed. “Aaron.”
“Adala,” he moaned and kept repeating her name over and over again as his hips thrust up and into her.
She felt his cock pulse, and the euphoria from her climax intensified, growing warmer and warmer and more fierce. Billions of hot needles pierced her back and sliced through her shoulder blades. Clutching at her back, she screamed as something was truly breaking free from within her.
Aaron opened his eyes, probably at the same time she did. His face frozen with his orgasm and fear.
The pain just as quickly subsided. Almost like it had never happened.
She glanced over her shoulder. “My wings.” She had to feel them for herself, not sure she was seeing what she was, as her body still convulsed around him. “My wings.” She shook, feeling a soft black-and-white feather in her fingers. “I have my wings back.” Looking at Aaron again, she screamed. “Aaron, you’re glowing!”
He wasn’t breathing but said, “So are you.”
Chapter Fifteen
“OH MY GODDESS.” Adala’s already quick breath turned into panicky gulps for air. “You’re really glowing. You’re so bright you’re hurting my eyes.”
Aaron’s grip on her hips loosened. This was not how he pictured making love to Adala. Sure, there would be afterglow. But normal afterglow, for Christ’s sake.
His dick had one last pulse, his orgasm so big he’d hardly recognized it for what it was. Had he felt the earth move? Literally? Damn, the sex had been good. Better than anything he’d ever experienced.
But taking in Adala’s wings—she had wings, huge things that didn’t fit on the bed—right after he’d come was a lot for him to wrap his head around. Oh, and she was hurting his eyes too with how bright her skin, hair, and even her new wings were.
He swallowed, trying to calm his own breath and voice. “I always thought your skin was radiant...now I know it to be true.”
She glanced down, still sitting on him, her pussy giving him a squeeze from her own orgasm. He tried to stifle a moan, but it wasn’t happening. No matter how freaked out he was, she still felt fucking fantastic.
She tried to smile. He watched her lips curl up in a valiant effort, but she blinked a lot, tears resurfacing.
“You’re so sweet. And kind for trying to lighten the mood, but—hey, you’ve had sex before. Does this kind of thing usually happen?”
He shook his head. “I’ve never had sex with a woman who sprouted feathered wings and glowed when she came, no. Sorry.”
A tear rolled down her cheek. Landing on his stomach was a diamond. Holy shit, this was a lot to take in. His heart pitched, wondering if he’d been in a wee bit of denial. She looked so...human. Not this second, but usually she did. And, yeah, maybe he’d never taken the whole “I’m a Valkyrie and can kill you with one touch” thing seriously. Or not seriously enough. But this—this was a whole different ballgame.
“I’m such a freak.” She covered her face, her wings leaning toward her head, as if protecting her. From him.
Well, no matter if he wasn’t sure how to process what was happening, he’d do anything to make sure she never called herself that again. God, he ached for her.
He sat up, noting how her silver-bright skin was lessening a little in intensity. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, fumbling with a giant wing to try to embrace all the way around her.
“No, honey. Just no.”
Her elbows were in his chest. She was determined to hide her face from him, and he felt tiny diamond after diamond fall between them.
“I had no idea this would happen,” she said behind her hands. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay.” He petted something soft and realized after a beat that it wasn’t her hair but a wing. Adjusting his hold, he awkwardly found her hair and caressed that. “Everything will be okay.”
She pulled her hands down, confusion in her bright-as-a-neon-sign bronze eyes. “How can you say that? You’re glowing. Your eyes are so bright they look like something sailors should avoid.”
“I’m a lighthouse, huh?”
“Am I that bright too?” She sniffed.
“Actually, you’re not as bright as a few seconds ago.” He hugged her, hoping like hell he sounded reassuring. “Let’s look in the bathroom mirror.”
She sniffed and reluctantly nodded. Climbing off him was an exercise in lust he’d never thought he’d have to experience. No matter what, being inside her had been amazing, and leaving her body almost made him sad. He felt a tad lonely without being inside her.
But this was weird as fuck. He wondered if he could ever get used to it. Best to wonder about that later, when she was more reassured.
When he was standing, following behind her as she ventured to the bathroom, her enormous wings almost touching him, he got rid of the condom. Once in the en-suite washroom, he threw it away. He’d braced himself while walking here, but nothing could have prepared him for seeing his image in the darkened room because his skin was so bright they didn’t need to turn on a light in the windowless space.
His heart changed gears, punching him in the ribs on super-speed. Jesus fucking Christ. He glowed. His eyes were so bright they could, indeed, warn sailors of rocks on the shore. Holy hell. And why couldn’t any imprecation, even if only in his head, be enough to calm him the fuck down?
She glanced at him, her eyes huge, her chin tucked in, looking timid. “I’m sorry.” She covered her breasts by crossing her arms, her hands over her nipples. God, he loved her little body, loved feeling her small globes in his hands, her thin, flat stomach, her hipbones sticking out. He didn’t like her covering up.
He reached for her again, now knowing how to avoid bumping into her wings as he held her. “It’s okay.”
She shook her head against his shoulder. “No, it’s not.” But she tentatively held onto his waist.
“I think it is. And, besides, look, we’re dimming.”
She glanced at the mirror again, her head still on his shoulder. “Not much.”
“We’ll probably be back to normal in no time.” He held her closer, desperately trying to think. “Wait. I do remember Luke being a little freaked out and running into this house naked. Maybe it had been his and Sam’s first time, and he’d glowed afterward, but by the time I saw him he was normal.”
She rolled her forehead so she couldn’t look at herself again. “You think so?”
He nodded, smoothing his hands up and down her back, sometimes bumping against her wings. Fuck. She had wings. Yeah, this was going to take a lot to get used to.
“Yeah, I think so.” His voice cracked, he didn’t sound quite as reassuring. Probably because now, of course, it was starting to click into place. The cogs finally got to moving in his brain, and he couldn’t stop thinking that she had fucking wings. Getting-in-his-way wings. But he didn’t want to make her feel even worse. “Are you happy about getting your wings back?”
She shrugged against him. “I’m still freaking out about everything.” She pulled away. “Why are you so calm right now?”
He blinked, not sure how to tell her that his training had kicked in. He’d been an officer. It had been his job to calm everyone the fuck down and do what they’d been trained to do. Usually, after a firefight, he’d finally process what he’d done and what had happened. Som
etimes, it took years to process.
But he hated thinking about that. Maybe it was more his personality that wanted to reassure her before he could fully think through events.
But now that she brought it to his attention he felt...off.
“I don’t know.”
“You’re right. We’re not so bright.”
He glanced at the mirror. He looked...healthy. Like one of those nuts who lives off wheatgrass juice. But his eyes were still otherworldly, such a bright blue he couldn’t stand looking at himself. That and he was still a little hard, standing in front of a woman who had giant black-and-white wings. Black on the front of her wings. White on the back.
All the air snuffed out of him as he looked at the top of Adala’s wings. There, the feathers were half-black, half-white.
Like the feather from his dreams.
Fuck.
He took a step back, shaking his head as he started to remember things she’d said. He tried to talk, but his mouth was too dry. After licking his lips and swallowing, he said, “You told me you first saw me in Afghanistan.”
She nodded, blinking as she noticed the distance he’d put between them.
“You saw me”—he had to swallow again, his voice cracking otherwise—“saw me during the battle close to Marjah.”
“Yes, I told you that.”
He took another step away and another when she covered her breasts again. Feeling like an idiot, he covered his cock with a hand. “Yeah, but, you never said why you were there.”
Her wings, taller than her, almost touching the floor, curled around her, covering her sides, revealing the white side more. “I thought you would know why I was there.”
He nodded. “Stupid me, right? For not playing that out, not thinking that through.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“I know. You wouldn’t call me stupid.”
“I’d never think you were stupid either.”
“Yeah, but I never pieced it together, did I? Why you were there?”
Her wings curled around her even more, covering her lower half.
He wanted to rake his hands through his hair but didn’t budge, already feeling too animated or too vulnerable while holding his dick in his hand. “You touched them, didn’t you?”
She swallowed. Slowly, she nodded.
“They died, my men died, because you touched them. You touched Rodriguez, didn’t you?”
Her lids fluttered, her long black eyelashes made shadows on her cheeks. “Yes.”
“Why did you give me your feather?”
“What?”
“Was it to appease your guilt? Did you give me your feather because you wanted to feel better about yourself after killing my men?”
She shook her head. “I...I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t kill...well, maybe I do. I just...I feel the pull, the call. I have to touch them, then—”
“Fuck, Adala!” He hated himself for yelling at her, but he needed answers.
No, it was more than answers he needed. He’d been an idiot for not thinking it through, not realizing why she’d been with him in Afghanistan. He needed to appease his own guilt for not saving his men.
His lungs squeezed in some sort of an invisible vise. His vision blurred.
But his anger made the panic attack stay at bay.
“You were there to take my men away.”
She shook her head, looking confused and guilty. Her wings curled almost completely around her, hiding her naked body, while he was yelling at her with his dick in his hand. Yeah, he was a cocksucker right now. But some part of him had always known that. That he wasn’t good enough to ever really recover from that battle, that he wasn’t good enough to feel that life could be a miracle, that he wasn’t good enough for love, for her.
“Why the fuck did you give me your feather?”
She shook her head again. Tears filled her eyes, but he couldn’t find it within himself to save her from them. The officer and a gentleman he always wanted to be was no more. He was just a man, desperate and ugly. He was a monster of himself, the version he tried to hide but knew it was always there. The part of him he tried to make amends for while at group. But he never had.
“Why the fuck did you give me your feather?” he screamed, making her flinch.
He turned, racing back into his room, rummaging through his things. Finding the feather right where he’d left it, he straightened. She’d followed him out, staring at him with glistening, sparkling gems falling from her eyes.
“I...I can understand if you can’t forgive me—”
He showed her the long feather. White on one side. Black on the other. Just like the feathers at the top of her wings.
Her eyes rounded, looking giant. “How did you get that?”
He shook his head. “Don’t act coy with me. Don’t fucking play that game. I know it’s yours. Unless you know of someone else who has white-and-black feathers.”
She shook her head. “No, I heard my mother had black-and-white feathers, but...she’s been dead for more than nine hundred years. It’s got to be mine, but—”
“Why did you give it to me?”
“I didn’t. I—”
“Don’t lie to me!”
She took a step away. “I would never lie to you, Aaron. I—”
He roared. Not even sure if he said something or not. Glancing around his room, he picked up his jeans and threw them on. His T-shirt too.
“I’m not lying, Aaron. I don’t think I can lie to you.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. I just feel like I couldn’t lie to you, even if I wanted to.”
“I have to get out of here.”
She nodded. “I...I’m sorry.”
“For what? For killing my men? For manipulating me to care about you?”
“I would never—”
“Jesus, I should have known it was an act. You played into all my fantasies, acting like some damsel from the fourteenth century. How’d you know I’d fall for that? Why did you do this to me? Why did you give me your feather? It was the one thing that gave me hope, the one fucking thing when I had nothing else. Why did you—forget it. I have to get out of here.”
And he left. Faster than he knew he could walk, he left the house, left the woman, er, female he thought he might have fallen in love with, knowing with every step he was in the wrong. He just wanted someone else to blame.
This confirmed it. He was a motherfucking monster.
It was best Adala know it too. She’d run from him now. That would be better for her.
But he was pretty sure he’d lost everything. Including hope.
Chapter Sixteen
“DID...DID YOU drug me?” Adala slurred as she asked Madde, whose form started to blur and warp, just a few hours after Aaron had stormed away from her.
Her sister bit her lower lip. They both shared that habit. “I’m sorry. Yes.”
Adala struggled to keep her eyes open. After confessing everything that had happened between her and Aaron to Madde, she’d wondered why her sister had been so accommodating, flying to France, one of her favorite places, but definitely not one of Madde’s. They were in the same meadow where she’d plucked the wild herbs for Aaron a couple weeks ago, afterward sharing with him her favorite meal of crusty bread, goat cheese and herbs.
Had that really been only a couple weeks ago? It felt like a lifetime. She’d gotten to know Aaron. She’d told him so much about herself. She’d made love to him. She’d given him her heart.
Goddess, her heart ached. Aaron had yelled at her. Once even screamed. What a thoughtless thing to do. It made her angry at him. But not enough to stop worrying about him, wondering if he was okay, if he would forgive her for being a Valkyrie and doing her job.
The worst part? She understood his anger. She had been there to take his men away from this life. She’d done that. Still, she hadn’t expected him to act so...horribly. To just walk aw
ay from her, from everything.
She’d run to Madde after he’d done that, telling her sister even the personal details of making love, getting her wings back and glowing. And she’d told Madde all the things Aaron had said and yelled.
Madde hadn’t shown her typical anger. Instead, she’d taken her here, Cévennes, with Gus and Bear, who were munching on the wild herbs close to some unshepherded goats with clanking bells on their collars. The sun was loud. That didn’t make sense but that was the way it felt. As loud as the sun was, it was also warm, making it so she felt woozy enough to sleep through her heartache.
Ah, that had probably been Madde’s point in drugging her.
Her sister caught her when Adala slumped over and held her close.
“I love you, Adala.” Madde sniffed, making Adala glance up at her slightly older sister. Madde was stoic beyond compare. Adala had caught her seconds after she’d cut off her own wings, never screaming in pain, not once crying. She’d just turned and picked up her lifeless wings and thrown them away without a word.
But she cried now.
“I can’t lose you.” Madde wryly smiled through the falling diamonds. “I just can’t. So I gave you a lot of nightshade, to make you sleep instead of...”
Adala knew what it had been instead of. Death. Although neither of them remembered their mother very well, they knew enough to recall she’d died from heartache, presumably from their absent father.
Adala tried to smile. She didn’t want to die. She wasn’t sure she would. But she did feel terrible after Aaron’s outburst. Terrible enough to wonder why her heart beat so painfully.
“Don’t leave me.” Madde hugged her closer as Adala felt her body relax more and more.
“I w-w-won’t.”
“I’m going to kill that American boy for doing this.”
“Please don-n’t.”
Madde smiled down. “It’s just an expression, dear one. Just an expression.”
All the same, Adala worried when Madde laid her on a warm, flannel blanket, taking care to ensure she was comfortable for sleep, murmuring how she was flying to Oregon to murder Aaron.
But no matter what, Adala couldn’t fight back. The drugs were too powerful. Besides, everything within her hurt. And it felt so much better, closing her eyes and letting sleep drug her into a numbness in which her heart didn’t throb with every beat.
