Unchained Desire

by R. C. Alvarez

  “Ram, my mother…” God, she couldn’t finish.

  He stepped back as his eyes darkened, but he didn’t let go. “What happened between you and me isn’t the same as what Nema forced on me.” He gripped her wrist. “I know I’m not clean. Maybe you don’t want anything to do with me after…”

  “No. It’s not you.” She spun around to face him. “How can you look at me, touch me, knowing she’s my mother? God, Ram…”

  He scowled. “She might have given birth to you, Kyria, but she’s not your mother.” Gently, he kissed her hand before lowering it. “Nema conditioned me to hate everything. Then you taught me to love again. To trust people I thought I despised.”

  Hope grew. Ram was alive, and he was standing in front of her. Naked. “How are you alive?”

  A strong thumb wiped a tear from her cheek. “Hell’s will. God’s plan. Coincidence. I don’t know. Does it matter? I’m looking for a place to stay. You got any openings?”

  Words wouldn’t form. Darkness and gloom washed away. Just the sight of him gave her chills. His forever whiskey scent, the spice, and touch of his hand. It wasn’t enough.

  She jumped and pressed as close as she could, wrapping all her limbs around his giant, rock hard body, trying to squeeze the breath right out of him.

  “Does this mean I can stay?”

  She laughed. A sound of pure joy and pleasant surprise. “Maybe dye your hair black again,” she teased. She didn’t actually care whether he kept the blond or not. Whatever made him happy. More tears fell from her eyes but out of relief this time. Her head spun madly.

  He carried her inside, stumbling as she covered his face with kisses. She never minded the scars he used to have; they were stories of who he was. But she loved his new face just as much. Because it was here. With her. Ramiel, her fated.

  His grin was infectious, and she laughed again. Together again.

  With a growl that thrilled her to the core, he took her straight to the bed and tucked his wings away. “Kyria, I love you. We can do this. We can make it work.”

  “I love you, too.” Nothing would ever take him away from her again. Ever. “Wait. We should…go find Val. And Eli. Your friends, they need our help, too.” Each sentence was broken up by a hurried kiss she put to his lips. “Your visions. Bishop’s warnings. It might all be true.”

  He hushed her with a deeper, lingering press of his mouth against hers. “There’s nothing more important than you right now, gingersnap. We can deal with Eli’s father and the end of the world later. After I ravage you. My fated one.”

  She giggled, her skin prickling with heat from his promising words as he undressed her. And her heart swelled as he leaned over and into her.

  He was right. They were in no immediate danger. It was inevitable, but they had to seize every good moment they could before it all came crashing down again.

  Kyria gave in and shared her love with him. He said it first, but from now on she would say it the most, until he got tired of it. Then she’d say it just a little bit more.

  Epilogue

  Four and a half weeks since hell had spit Ramiel out of the darkness and he still couldn’t summon the courage to take care of business. He told himself he had all the time in the world, that Nema no longer had a hold on him and wasn’t going to drag him back to that icy shithole anymore.

  There was only one reason this freedom tasted so good. Kyria. So, he sat at the large table in Val’s dining room, fiddling with the handle of a small plastic animal carrier in front of him as he thought about the handwritten note from Bishop she had shown him.

  Seven marked Nephilim. The Rapture. A secret weapon. Seems like the end times are finally coming, and soon. Yet it didn’t bother him. Kyria’s doing, no doubt. With her at his side, the idea of fighting the apocalypse didn’t seem so bad. More of an adventure, really. But for now, he’d enjoy the calm before the storm.

  He sipped a bit of cold beer, listening to the sound of joy and laughter coming from the kitchen as Kyria helped Val and the other archangels prepare a huge family meal.

  It would be better to wait alone until dinner was ready, yet two figures slid into the empty chairs beside him. Tru gave him a warm smile while Tamiel reached into her jacket to fetch a toothpick and bite down on it.

  Sara joined them, stealing five shot glasses from the narrow mini-bar in the adjacent living room and setting them out in front of him. He straightened, watching each of them warily as a sour discomfort settled in his chest.

  Finally, Daniel came up behind Tammy and rested an elbow on her shoulder. Were they expecting him to say something? Apologize? He should, but words stuck in his throat like a hot coal.

  He took a swig of beer but found it empty. Thankfully, Sara just finished pouring each of them a shot of whiskey.

  She lifted her glass in the air. “To our enemies.”

  Dan lifted his. “To our friends.”

  Tammy simply slid her shot closer to herself. “To life.”

  Tru held hers out to him. “To family.”

  That burning coal dropped to his stomach, fizzling out, and he swallowed to rid himself of the ashy taste in his mouth. He had been reluctant to revel in the old power shared between them when they made their pact in New Zealand, now he willingly savored familiar glances and hesitant smiles.

  Attention bounced from Tru to Daniel then to Sara. “Are we family?”

  She pursed her lips as the others turned to watch her, too. “I just…” The shot glass of amber liquid turned in her agitated hand. “Ramiel, I don’t even know how to begin to ask for forgiveness.”

  At hearing the prideful archangel dip her words in humility, a splash of cool water washed over the embers of hatred he’d been fanning for over a hundred years. Like the release of pent-up steam, his bitter enmity left him in a dizzying rush. He deflated with a sting in his eyes.

  “To forgiveness then.” He clinked his glass against Tru’s and tossed it back.

  Tammy and Dan drank, too. Sara hesitated, looking a bit stunned, then downed the small bit of whiskey.

  Tru’s chocolate eyes watered. “Do you really forgive us?”

  “I think deep down I forgave you guys a long time ago. It’s not like you knew I’d been captured.” He pinched the aching spot between his brows. “God, I just hated myself so much. Those kids, she killed them. Right in front of me. I should’ve done something to save them, but I was so helpless. I’m a fucking archangel for Christ’s sake.” He dropped his hand to face them fully. “But I lost my soul. And I took it out on you guys.”

  “But you’re here now.”

  “Yeah. You guys helped with that.” A ‘thank you’ still lodged itself in his chest. In due time.

  He cleared his throat. “And I’m not going anywhere this time.”

  “Neither are we.”

  He frowned. “What about your place in New Zealand?”

  Sara shrugged a shoulder. “I hired some folks to maintain it while we’re gone. Apparently, some demon lords think they can take over the world with an army of Nephilim. It’s time the watchers finally got off their asses and did something about it.”

  A curling smile tugged at his lips. She smiled, too, and the tilted world shifted just a little bit in the right direction.

  Kyria wandered into the living room. “Hey, guys. Food’s almost ready.” She wiped her hands on a towelette. “Just waiting on the beans to finish in the crockpot.”

  Beautiful. Her thick red hair was tied up in mini-braids and a high ponytail. Her cream-colored turtleneck sweater fit perfectly. The sight of her anchored him. She was home.

  “Sounds good, Ky. Thanks.” Daniel responded first as Sara poured him another shot.

  Fiddling with the tiny cage again, Ram turned his head toward the kitchen. “Where’s Val?”

  “Oh, she just got a call from Eli after weeks of silence. It sounded urgent…but I know he’ll be okay. It’s Eli.” She joked with a tiny laugh, but tension lingered in the way she continued to wring
her hands despite being dry already. “I’m sure you guys will meet him soon.”

  “How’s Darius?”

  Her shoulders loosened as her smile turned genuine. “Dad texted earlier. Sent me a picture of the Sphinx in Giza. I think he was trying to take a selfie with it in the background, but all he got was his forehead…”

  Sara laughed. “Sounds like Daniel. Poor old man is terrible with technology.”

  Dan scowled. “My hands were made to build entire paranormal dimensions and wield fiery weapons of mass destruction, not tiny dinging electronic objects.”

  The others started laughing and continued to roast Daniel about his technological shortcomings.

  Ramiel tossed a glance toward the entryway of the kitchen. Should he wait for Val? He shoved his hair back, watching Kyria’s silent tension ease away as she laughed and joked with the other archangels. She was beautiful. She was perfect. And she was his.

  It was now or never. “Kyria.”

  She turned from telling Sara how much she liked her dress, a bright smile on her face. “Ramiel?” A bit of sauce in her voice.

  Palms sweaty, he turned the small crate toward her and opened the hatch to let loose his ridiculous plan.

  Behind him, Tru squeaked and Daniel choked on his shot as Buddy waddled out to Kyria and stopped to lift his head. At the end of his little wiggling snout, he held a piece of jewelry in his maw, offering it to his fated.

  It was the cheesiest fucking thing Ram had ever done, but she liked that sort of stuff. And for her, he’d walk through hell and back to be as corny as she wanted.

  Because it was what normal human couples did. And she deserved as many normal human things as he could give her.

  The most remarkable golden flecked blue eyes reflected the shine of a ring made entirely from clear quartz crystal.

  Nothing fancy, just a simple round cut with a flat rectangular top. And yet, she’s tearing up. She first touched her lips, then flattened her hands over her chest.

  “After everything we’ve been through, I’d do it all again. Just to meet you.” He paused to get the words right in his head. “Going forward, I want it to be forever. Will you marry me?”

  “Are you sure? You’re an archangel, and I’m just—”

  He reached up and pressed a finger to her lips. “I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t. You’re my heart and soul. All that makes me worthy is there because of you. I’m yours forever, even if you don’t take me.”

  “I’m yours. Yes! God, yes.” She laughed, tears falling, and his chest burst with relief and wonder. He gently took the ring from on the hedgehog’s nose and slid it on her finger.

  Before he could wrap her in his arms and give her a kiss, Tru jumped off her stool, squealing as she rushed Kyria into a big bear hug despite being smaller than the other woman. Daniel laughed, and even Tammy gave them a small brief curl of her lips.

  “Fuck the whiskey. This calls for champagne.” Sara rooted through the cooler and turned to grin at Kyria with the first green bottle she found. “Welcome to the family, Kyria.”

  She tore off the foil and wire cage, replacing the cork with her thumb. Foam sprayed across her and the bar. The others laughed, clapping while Daniel handed out glass flutes.

  As Sara filled his, Ram reveled in the glow of Kyria’s elation. Her smile lit up his entire world. He sipped his drink and finally stood, pulling her close.

  Together. The way it was always meant to be. I’ll never leave you again, gingersnap.

  Eyes watering, she dazzled him with a kiss to his neck. “You’re ridiculous.”

  “Ridiculous is an understatement. Do you realize how long it took me and David to train the hedgehog to do that?”

  She laughed and touched his face with her free hand, the band of her ring already warm in her possession. “If you managed that, then I’m sure you could easily teach me a thing or two later.”

  He grinned. “You’re on.” His lips met hers, and it was perfect.

  The Real Epilogue

  Crack. Shht. Crack. Shht. Crack. Shht.

  The natural rhythm of a shovel tossing dirt created its own ominous song. Bishop had been digging for six hours now, barefoot and drenched in sweat. The humidity of Peru’s eastern lowlands clung to every pore.

  “I’ve been working in the graveyard, all the livelong day. I’ve been working in the graveyard, just to pass the time away.” A particularly large chunk of soil flew into the air as he sang.

  A pause, then he muttered, “No. My plan isn’t here. It lies somewhere in the small glance between a lady and her prince.” He spoke to no one. “All I have to do is pinch their heads together. The apocalypse isn’t gonna save itself, you know.”

  Alone in the driest spot of the rainforest he could find, he stopped digging to catch his breath, pushing hair out of his face. Daylight. The monsters weren’t out yet.

  He turned, scanning the dripping landscape. Rain fell in heavier drops as he canted his head to the resonation of something other than distant thunder.

  “You’re wrong. They will stop you. Even if I have to die to make sure it happens.”

  He swung around to continue burrowing into the wet earth, only to find the hole was complete. He stepped back. Seven feet long and six feet deep. He’d dug his own grave.

  Tilting his head back, he laughed at the dark canopy of branches above his head. “Let the games begin.”

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  Acknowledgments

  I want to thank a lot of people. First the Rolepages community and Joey for giving us a place to develop our voice. To all our Slack friends for cheering us on when we wanted to give up on late nights of editing.

  To the Angry Writing crew for doing the same and giving us a place to vent.

  To the San Antonio Romance Authors for teaching us craft and all about the industry.

  To Nina for being the very first fan of Ramiel.

  To Nicole and Ariel who read and edited the first rough (very rough) drafts of the manuscript and still believed in it. And to our editor Candace, you’ve helped our dream come true.

  Last but not least, to all our closest friends and family for supporting us through this long year journey. Without you all, Ramiel would still be a lonely bitter angel stuck in that old bar. Thank you, Storm Navarro & Jolie De la Cruz.

  About the Author

  The Paranormal Romance writing team of Storm Navarro and Jolie de la Cruz spend their days delving into myth and madness and coating it with romance. Texas born and raised, both authors have a penchant for strong men and wild rides.

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