by V L Moon
Thankfully, Malachi’s demands, or at least his threats of bodily harm cut through the carnal swamp of Arial’s thoughts. He had a job to do. He didn’t have time for anyone or anything else. He needed to focus. He walked through the silent field, his bony and ragged wings dragging behind him. Bastian’s eyes bored into him as he took his place at the demon’s side. A sense of awareness and belonging, however brief, stirred within him.
The peculiar sensation was just one in a list of recent oddities to occur. Again, Arial placed the blame entirely at Bastian’s feet. Upon the demon’s return into Arial’s life, a number of old and unsettling emotions had started to stir. The connection that had once existed between them surged up like a wave of electricity and rolled over Arial’s body like a blanket of heat.
“I want you,” Rhys growled from behind him and proceeded to run his hands up and over the exposed mounts between Arial’s shoulder blades.
“What we want and what we get are two entirely different things,” he rebuked Bastian’s announcement; yet, still leaned back into his touch. He was so fucking screwed.
“We shall see, my angel. You just carry on playing hard to get. You know how much I like it when you fight. Makes taking you all the sweeter.” A quick flick of the demon’s forked tongue stroked along his spine, making him shudder. Rhys was going to be the death of him. Malachi knew exactly what he’d been doing by putting them together. If Arial didn’t know better, he’d swear upon the Creator’s gates that Laziel was the one to put him up to it. Damned angel had serious Cupid issues and very loose lips.
Arial blocked out the demon’s taunts and turned to the quietly observing Nephilim. From the number in attendance, Arial doubted that many had taken leave. The meadow was packed.
“Thank you for your loyalty. I can assure your safety and your wellbeing. As I stated yesterday, if any of you have preferences as to where you want to go or want to stay within a certain group, we will endeavor to do our best and to accommodate you. Bastian and I will be here until all of your questions are answered and your concerns are addressed.”
“With regards to the rest of your brethren, if they show no interest in wanting to join us, that is their choice. However, I would still like to see that they are safe and not being held against their will,” Arial stated and waited as a smaller Nephilim, childlike in stature made his way through the hoard of wings to stand before him and Rhys.
Bronze hair draped over his shoulder to fall well past his waist. The color of his hair matched the wide eyes staring up at him. Both stood out in stark reflection against his milky white skin. The Nephilim’s wings sent a stab of pain through Arial’s heart. The male’s beauty had been purposely marred. One wing stood proud, a high arc of glorious color to match the burning descent of a beautiful sunset. The copper and bronze feathers shimmered in the light; the same could not be said for its twin.
Ragged and broken, the few feathers that did remain wouldn’t last. The membrane and mount had been horrendously broken, snapped at different angles to leave the whole wing limp. It was shattered to such a degree that his brethren had strapped the appendage down against the Nephilim’s back to stop it dragging along the ground.
Arial’s fingers hovered over the disfigured remains, tears shimmering in his eyes. “She did this.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. The Nephilim answered regardless.
“Yes. For refusing her; not that it mattered. She still took what she wanted and then punished me for it.”
The young Nephilim shook, but regardless of his fear or the pain he’d suffered under his queen’s rule, he refused to look away. His chin trembled, but remained in its upright position.
Arial brought the male toward him and slowly dropped to one knee so they were of the same height. The shock on the Nephilim’s face triggered a wave of hushed gasps to ripple through the crowd.
“Regardless of your choice here today, you will never be punished again. You will never be defiled or expected to serve others in any way that demeans you. And, that goes for all of you. No one will have to suffer the abuse that has been forced upon you. You are free to seek consensual companionship and mate with whoever you choose. There are only two rules governing love in our world. It has to be consensual and between adults. I will not tolerate harm on an innocent or condone force of any nature. Do you understand me?” Arial’s anger rose in his voice as it swept across the field of Nephilim. A united force of arms raised into the air as the young male in his arms wept silently.
“We will see to it that a healer treats everyone in need. And you, my mighty friend, will fly again. I know a certain angel that owes me big time.” Arial smiled as the male hugged him tight before returning to the waiting crowd. They took him into their embrace and acted as a shield to keep him safe.
“You are worthy of respect. You are strong as equals, stronger as a united force. If you will join us, we will guide you, train you and house you. We will give freely of our time and our knowledge. Will you join us?” Arial asked and grinned at the unanimous response. It was going to take a shit load of time and effort, but Arial was willing to do it. He wanted to do it. The Nephilim called to him, his blood. They were family. And, he vowed, albeit silently, to do whatever it took to keep them safe.
The rapture and relief written on the faces before him filled Arial with pride. That pride morphed into something much stronger as he watched Rhys mingle with the Nephilim. They accepted him with such ease. Why couldn’t he do the same and put them both out of their misery?
You will brother. Listen to your heart. Who needs Cupid when you have me?
“Fuck you, Laz.” Arial attempted to growl, but the retreating laughter drifting through his mind drew a smile to his usually stoic face.
Loosen up, bro, or do you need a little guidance? It’s been a while. I’m sure Lachi wouldn’t mind putting on a show. Maybe give you a few tips.
More laughter followed and Arial mentally flipped Laz the bird as he walked into the waiting crowd. He started taking their names and the places where they wished to be, while hoping to receive the hiding place of his mother’s old lair. He needed that to help the Nephilim left behind.
~*~*~*~
After a full night of skating through the shadows of Hell, Rhys’ libido lurked somewhere up around his eyebrows. His demon nature reveled in the depravity and carnality of his father’s realm and refused to be contained when he returned to the Earthly arena.
Standing behind Arial as the angel addressed the Nephilim, he fisted his hands to keep them to himself. But, the scent of the angel, the feel of him, the brief taste, all of it worked in concert to strip him of his hard won control. With a growl of sexual frustration rumbling in his chest, he leaped down from the raised staging area and paced through the crowd before he did the unforgivable and took the male right there in front of them all.
Not the wisest move. His raging pheromones tainted the air around him. Male and female Nephilim drifted toward him unconsciously. Their bodies brushed against him heightening his awareness though none of them tempted him. He wanted the male on the stage.
Wading deeper into the mass of Nephilim, he searched for a distraction; anything to keep from toppling Arial to his back and taking what he wanted. Through a haze of lust, the scent of blood and injuries penetrated to reach his more human side. He blinked and twisted his psyche to focus on the diversion. The crowd contained a plethora of injured.
As he found them, he categorized them by injury. First aid, stitches, broken bones and wings, and then the more traumatic. The ones requiring surgery. He waved over their wolf escorts and spit out instructions for a triage area. Surprisingly, the Nephilim did not shy away even when his arousal dipped to a manageable level and he wasn’t throwing off ‘fuck me’ vibes. Though their eyes were haunted, they bore no fear of his demon presence so he didn’t bother shifting into his human persona.
“What can I do?” The question surprised him even though Arial’s presence did not. He’d never lost track of whe
re his angel was even as he stitched up wounds and reset broken limbs.
“I have a nurse on standby. Another demon, but she’s good at what she does. Phone’s in my pocket. Her name’s Slytheria. Tell her to bring a dozen OR kits. She can triangulate on my location. The wolves are setting up a sterile environment for the more serious cases.”
“You don’t have to do this.”
Rhys lifted his head to meet Arial’s eyes. “I know, but it would be inhumane of me to leave them to suffer. Despite what you may think of me, I take my job seriously. I know I cannot atone for all of my past wrongs, nor can I bring back those that I killed. I can make a difference here and with my practice.”
“I know Heaven is never going to be an option for me.” Rhys smiled crookedly. “But, there’s always hope that I can make a certain angel proud to call me his mate.” When Arial didn’t respond, Rhys’ dropped his smile and turned his attention back to his patient.
He nearly jumped out of his skin when Arial’s hand slid into the front pocket of his custom made jeans. Every nerve in his lower body went on hyper alert while his lungs forgot the basics of breathing.
“Phone.” Arial waved the device at him. “Is she in contacts?”
“Yeah.” The rasp that came out of his throat was embarrassing, but fuck if he could function properly with Arial’s hand having been so close to his cock. Rhys dropped his head and concentrated on breathing. Patience be damned; he was about to combust while Arial calmly called the nurse.
“She’s on her way. Jorn’s pack is handling the requests for placement. Put me to work.”
Doctor mode. He could do that. Rhys forced air in and out of his lungs. “Wash your hands. You can sew. I’ll work on the broken bones while you close up the minor wounds. Neat stitches and use disinfectant. My reputation’s at stake.”
Arial actually grinned at him. “Never thought that word coming from you would be a good thing.”
“Kiss my ass, angel.”
“Only if you disinfect it first.”
“Somebody should warn you about teasing demons,” Rhys growled.
“Who said I was teasing?”
Rhys’ eyes snapped up to collide with Arial’s laughing eyes. The gleam of humor in no way overshadowed the dark burn of arousal. Rhys’ hands shook so hard he almost dropped the roll of plaster.
“Arial.”
“Dr. DeRhys? Where should I put the kits?”
Rhys barely bit back the roar of frustration at the interruption. Arial broke eye contact and headed for the next patient. Rhys watched him go for the moment, but he wasn’t going to close his eyes again without talking to Arial. Something had changed. Something subtle, but it was enough to fan the minute flame of hope burning in Rhys’ dark heart.
~*~*~*~
Chapter Fifty-Two
~*~*~*~
The Virginia sky had gone black as smut by the time Bastian finished with the last patient. He’d had to force Rhys back into his shell in order to perform surgery. The demon sized fingers were simply too thick to handle a scalpel. Not to mention the rooms set aside by the wolves hadn’t been nearly large enough for the massiveness of his natural form.
He stretched to ease the ache in his lower back and took a moment to admire the big sky and the twinkling stars. Not a sight he’d seen much in his life. Everything in Hell had a reddish tint; the color of fire, blood and anger.
He shook his head to dispel the wayward thoughts. Time for distraction was up. All of the Nephilim had been treated. Slytheria was staying with the recovering patients. He was going to find Arial and get some answers.
Fate seemed to be playing into his hands. When he turned to head to the main house, Arial stood on the grassy quad between the makeshift surgery and the pack headquarters waiting for him. Even without the arc of his magnificent wings, Arial was a glorious sight. The male believed himself to be Fallen, a fact Bastian firmly rejected, but he’d never lost his celestial bearing.
Wide shoulders were thrown back, thick muscular legs spread wide and his head was up, eyes piercing the space between them to own Bastian’s demon soul. His male was not afraid of him and had no plans of backing down. Bastian growled his approval as he continued to savor his eye candy.
The leather vest emphasized the thick padded muscle of Arial’s chest. Well worn, leather pants molded heavy thighs. Arial’s dreadlocks fell below his shoulders. Bastian’s fingers itched to grab ahold of those braids and guide Arial’s mouth to his body.
Denied for too long, Rhys flashed away the human form and rose up to his full height. Two steps brought him to Arial’s side. Words jumbled in his head. He wanted to demand Arial’s acquiescence; yet, he knew he himself would beg if that’s what it took to get Arial into his bed. He’d never been able to dominate or intimidate Arial Nathanial. And, he didn’t want too. He wanted Arial to come to him freely, willingly.
Every argument in his head vanished when moonlight glinted off of Arial’s back. Rhys stared in wonder at the minuscule downy feathers lining Arial’s broken wings. Except…Rhys circled around Arial. The broken and ragged appendages were straight and perfectly formed. Only one thing other than the Creator’s touch could heal an angel’s wings.
Rhys closed the gap between their bodies and slid an arm around Arial’s waist. “We’re outta here, angel.”
Rhys ported them to his safe house set high in the Karakoram Mountain Range. He chose the icy environment specifically for its inhospitable climate and impassable landscape. They would not be disturbed by humans, vamps or other preternaturals. Added bonus, his father detested the cold.
Back in physical form, Rhys loosened his hold on Arial. Instead of stepping off, Arial turned in his embrace. It wasn’t much in the way of an invitation, but Rhys grabbed the chance by the balls. His arms locked around Arial and drew him closer.
“Welcome to my home. You’re the only one to have ever entered these walls.”
Arial’s eyes drifted around the bedroom and settled on the custom made bed. It was the size of human swimming pool and sat on a raised dais that hit Rhys about mid chest. There were steps on all three exposed sides. White silk sheets were accented by cobalt blue and emerald green throw pillows.
“I see you still have an aversion to red.”
“Are we really going to talk about the decor?”
“I figure it’s kind of rude to jump straight into sex as soon as we arrive.”
“Is that angel etiquette or cock blocking?” He growled long and low when Arial’s fingers closed around the bulge in his pants and squeezed his already throbbing erection.
“The only cock block at the moment is the zipper to your pants.”
“Hold on to your wings, angel. I’m going to burn you alive,” he promised before his mouth claimed Arial’s lips.
The kiss ramped up his core temperature, but it was pure carnal pleasure. Arial tasted like ambrosia, the flavor of Heaven. His skin sizzled, brimstone and sulphur filled his nose. He was going to combust before his dick got into play. And then, Arial’s hands landed on his forearms and slid up to his biceps. His touch cooled Rhys’ burning skin.
Rhys broke the kiss and sucked in air while Arial’s hands continued roaming over his shoulders and chest. Shivers raced from his skin to his cock. Arial gave him an arrogant grin. “I remember how hot you get. The leather’s flame retardant; we’ll see how long it lasts against your lust.”
Rhys didn’t know what to think. Arial had always been serious, even before the Fallen issue. “Unless they were forged in Hell and come with a demon proof chastity belt your ass is getting fucked tonight.”
The laughter bled out of Arial’s eyes. Rhys wanted to bite back the words until the angel spoke. “Less talk, more action, demon. I need you.”
Grabbing Arial by the waist, Rhys turned and tossed the angel up onto the bed. He shed the pants with the offending zipper and ripped the shirt over his head and tossed it aside. When he joined Arial on the bed, his angel reclined against the pillows, chest and
feet bare and leather pants unbuttoned but still zipped.
“Sweet fucking Christ, you’re mouthwatering, angel of mine.”
“There you go talking again. Do I need to tell a sex demon there are better uses for your mouth?”
Rhys bared his fangs and clicked his teeth at the smirking angel. “Better grab that headboard, Nathanial. I’m going to make you come with my mouth before I ever touch your cock.”
Fire flared from Rhys’ palms. Arial’s leathers melted to ash leaving him bare to Rhys’ hungry eyes. At his hips, Arial’s cock lay thick and engorged. Rhys fought his every instinct to suck the long turgid length into his mouth. Instead, he grasped Arial’s ankles and spread the male’s legs wide. He started with the soles of Arial’s feet and worked his way up. His tongue and lips played over every bit of the exposed flesh. Beneath his mouth, Arial writhed and moaned.
At the top of Arial’s thighs, Rhys lifted his mouth away from the succulent flesh. His senses reeled from his celestial’s flavor. Yet, he had not yet savored his male’s cream. He would. When he licked it from Arial’s chest and abs. Rhys growled. Arial cracked glazed eyes and worked to focus.
“I’m only getting started, angel,” Rhys promised. He settled on his knees between Arial’s splayed legs, palmed the back of Arial’s thighs and pushed up and back putting Arial’s ass on perfect display. Moaning, Arial grasped the backs of his knees and pulled, opening himself even more. Rhys’ forked tongue flicked Arial’s exposed hole. Arial jerked. Rhys’ tongue extended again. The two edges rimmed the puckered entrance.
