Her Avenging Angel (Her Angel Romance Series Book 7)

by Felicity Heaton

  The messy ends of her hair fluttered in the chilly breeze that blew in off the lagoon.

  Clouds gathered over the ocean beyond it, as black as night, boiling as they rapidly expanded and rolled towards the island.

  Her breathing quickened, her breasts straining against her makeshift bikini with each hard inhalation.

  “You want me to leave,” she whispered, violet beginning to fill her hazel irises and her pupils stretching in their centres, turning elliptical. “You want to be… alone.”

  Nevar cursed himself all over again as he recalled the things she had told him last night and the pain he had felt in her at the time, agony that was beginning to surface again. He hadn’t meant it like that and hadn’t meant to make her feel that he was rejecting her company.

  Her eyes burned violet and her fangs flashed between her lips as she muttered to herself.

  The raging black clouds swept across the island, blotting out the sunlight and plunging it into darkness. The sea grew violent, great waves battering the reef that edged the lagoon, and the wind caught the water as it crashed against the rocks and blasted it against him together with sand.

  Thunder rolled in the distance and white-purple lightning blazed trails across the clouds.

  The ground shook.

  Nevar got to his feet. “Calm down.”

  She shook her head, her purple eyes narrowing on him. “I thought… I thought…”

  He knew what she had thought and she was right.

  Nevar grasped her shoulders and pulled her into his arms as the skies opened, fat drops of rain hammering the island and spraying off him. It was cold, instantly chilling his skin. He unleashed his wings and covered her with them, not caring that his feathers would take hours to dry.

  He only cared about keeping her warm and safe.

  “Lysia,” he murmured against her hair as he held her tucked close to him, her hands pressing against his bare chest. “I did not mean it like that. I do not wish you to leave me or I to leave you… I am sorry. I was upset and I took it out on you. What you thought is right… I will never leave you alone.”

  She pressed her tiny claws into his pectorals and the rain fell harder.

  “You must calm down now.” He stroked her soaked hair and smiled. “Unless you intend to flood the island in order to learn how to swim.”

  She gasped and drew back, her eyes raised to the sky even though his wings remained above her, shielding her from the rain.

  It began to ease and the wind dropped.

  “I’m sorry,” she said and he furled his wings against his back, giving her some air, but didn’t release her. He kept his arms locked around her waist, pinning her against his body. He couldn’t convince himself to let her go. Her focus dropped back to him. “I didn’t mean to lose my temper.”

  He shrugged and shook his wings, trying to get some of the water out of them before it soaked in, and forced them away.

  “It’s probably not the first time the island has felt some divine wrath. I heard that when Erin was having the baby, the whole place was in danger of going under the waves.”

  That made her smile and he was glad to see it and to feel she was no longer angry with him because of his thoughtless words.

  He raised a hand to her cheek and brushed his knuckles across it, holding her gaze as he watched her eyes slowly changing back to hazel.

  “I am sorry I snapped at you,” he said, needing to know that she had heard that part and knew that he regretted it. “I just don’t like the sunlight.”

  Sunlight which had been returning as the clouds dissipated but faded away again as they thickened once more, shutting out its bright rays. Lysia could control the weather. It didn’t just respond to her emotions as it did with angels, turning stormy whenever their moods blackened. She had control over it. What other powers did she hold?

  He wanted to ask her, but he didn’t want her to hurt herself by trying to remember things.

  “Why don’t you like the sunshine?” she said and he stared off into the distance, where there were no clouds and the sky was blue, shafts of sunlight streaming down, visible in the water vapour lingering in the air after the storm.

  He sighed and tried to find a way of explaining that one.

  “I don’t really understand it myself.” He let her slip from his arms and looked down at her hands as she linked them in front of her stomach. An urge struck him, a voice whispered against it, stating that he would taint her, and he found himself saying the most ridiculously boyish thing that had ever left his lips in his two thousand years of existence. “Can I hold your hand?”

  Lysia blushed and held her right one out to him.

  Nevar felt like an idiot as he hesitated in taking it. It was just a hand. He had done things far more wicked with her. It was a little late to begin asking for permission and being embarrassed when she granted it.

  He seized her hand and started walking with her, fast at first, as if he could outrun how idiotic he had been. He slowed when he realised he was dragging her along behind him and fell into line with her, matching his pace with hers.

  She stared down at their joined hands the whole time as they headed across the island towards the shallow water of the lagoon. It was murky now, the sand stirred by the storm, and far less inviting. He preferred to be able to see what was swimming with him beneath the water.

  He stopped at the water’s edge with her and let it lap over his bare feet. It was still warm.

  Heated by the sunshine he hated so much.

  “I really don’t understand it,” he muttered and she looked up at him. “Asmodeus has no problem with the sunlight. Liora thinks it’s psychological.”

  “Psychological?” Lysia said with a frown.

  He nodded and pondered how to explain that to her. He would have to tell her where his problem had begun, and he wasn’t sure he wanted her to know about the person he had been before, the one he despised because it embodied his weakness.

  “I told you when we met that I was an angel once and that I wasn’t given a choice when I became what I am now, remember?” He moved a few steps back from the water and sat down on the sand.

  Lysia joined him, sitting close to his side, her knees together and turned at an angle towards him, so she was almost facing him.

  “The King of Demons is your master.” She brushed her fingers over the sand. “He is the one who gave you no choice.”

  He kept his eyes on the water, letting the steady rhythm of the small waves soothe him.

  “Yes. Asmodeus is my master now…”

  “And that is why you desire to kill him.” She said it without inflection, a statement of fact, and he looked across at her. “I have seen how you act around him. I know desire to kill when I see it because I hold that desire within me too.”

  “The angels,” he whispered and she nodded. He placed his hand over hers, curled his fingers around and held it. “I will not let them hurt you.”

  “Angels hurt you,” she said and he shook his head.

  “Not angels. No. Heaven hurt me. They played with my memories and made me do things. They took away my free will. I had gone to Hell to see what they had done to me… there is a pool there that records events that occur in the mortal realm… and I saw… I saw it all.” He frowned down at her hand beneath his, held in his, a slender and delicate little thing that belied her incredible strength and power. It was easy to forget that she held such power within her whenever he looked at her and saw her purity and the depth of her innocence.

  But she was innocent only in part.

  She had seen so much evil and horror, and had been put through so much pain and loneliness.

  She hadn’t had enough light in her life to balance all that darkness.

  He was her opposite.

  He’d had so much good in his life that when the darkness had swallowed him it had been too much for him to handle and bear. He had crumbled in a matter of moments, before he could muster his strength to stand against it a
nd find his balance.

  He wanted to give her all the light she needed, the joyful moments and the shared memories. He wanted to give her life balance because he couldn’t find his own.

  “When I was in Hell, reeling from what I had seen, Asmodeus found me. Under his master’s order, he attacked me and drove me to the edge of despair, and then deviated from the Devil’s plan.”

  “He forced a contract upon you, and changed your appearance.” She turned her hand beneath his and linked their fingers, and warmth flowed up his arm and seeped into his cold heart.

  “But not who I was.” He kept his eyes on their hands, absorbing her warmth and how gently she held him, silently offering her strength to him. “I thought he had made me evil… but others were right and he had only given what already lived within me a push.”

  It was hard to admit that and he would never allow Asmodeus hear him say such a thing.

  “I am not a good man, Lysia.” He took his hand from hers, rested his forearms on his bent knees, and let his hands dangle above his bare feet. “I did terrible things… unforgivable things.”

  “Things that did this?” She leaned towards him and ran her fingers over his shoulders, tracing the wings inked onto his back.

  “Things I did after this.”

  “There is magic in this mark.” She followed the arch of the wing on his left shoulder blade down towards his spine, bringing her whole body closer to him as she stretched. “Was it done by Liora?”

  He shook his head and closed his eyes. “No. I killed the sorceress who gave it to me and she cursed me with her dying breath, damning me to an eternity of craving blood in exchange for spilling hers.”

  She frowned and pulled away from him, coming back to sit beside him. “That’s why you hate blood and your need to feed?”

  He went to shake his head and then nodded. “In part… I do not want to say the rest.”

  She canted her head and her hazel eyes darted between his, as if she could see the answer in them if she looked hard enough.

  He closed them. “I have done terrible things, Lysia. I have killed many I shouldn’t have… for no other reason than they reminded me of the terrible thing I did with them.”

  He heaved a sigh and flopped onto his back on the sand, landing with his arms spread wide, and opened his eyes, staring up at the clouds.

  “I have done things I do not want you to know about. Can we leave it at that?”

  She appeared above him, strands of her black hair falling down to caress her neck and cheeks. “But these things hurt you… why?”

  “Because if you knew them, you would see me for what I am… I am not good, Lysia… I do not think I am evil, either… but I am a monster.”

  “These people you speak of were women. You slept with them…”

  He spat out a curse, wishing she had kept that to herself, because he honestly believed she would hate him if she knew and he would be alone again. He didn’t want to be alone. When she had told him about how she had always been alone, it had made him realise that he was alone now in a way. Everyone held him at a distance. No one trusted him. He was worse than alone. He was on the outside looking in, without hope of ever being accepted by the people he cared about.

  “I fucked them,” he snapped and didn’t stop when she flinched. “You push to know me and you won’t like what you find out… I warned you… but you want to know and I will tell you.”

  He sat up and she shook her head, but he refused to be quiet now. He was going to put it all out there.

  “I wanted to rid myself of the evil part of me, the side that found sick satisfaction in killing mortals… angels… demons. I couldn’t live with the memories of the things I did when I gave in to the darker part of myself… the other side of me.” He caught her jaw and forced her to keep looking at him, so she would see the real him, the ugly truth that would come out eventually whether he liked it or not. Better to put it out there now and watch her walk away before he fell for her and she destroyed him when she left him. “I found the oblivion I craved in Euphoria. You know what Euphoria is?”

  She tried to shake her head.

  “It’s blood and toxin from a demon, mixed with booze. The demons give it to mortals to kill their inhibitions and they have a little fun with them. Demon toxin doesn’t hurt the mortal. They get one heck of a hangover and that’s all. It’s fatal to angels.”

  “But you’re an angel.” Her eyes widened.

  “Funny… that’s what I thought when I realised what I had drunk in my desperate search for some kind of release from the things I did and what was happening to me. But it didn’t kill me… and when I realised that meant I was no longer an angel… I went looking for the next fix to kill the pain… and then the next.” He tightened his grip on her jaw when she tried to look away, tears lining her lashes and her hurt beating in the mark on his chest, echoing in his heart. “When the demon bitches demanded I fuck them as payment for my fix, I fucked them… and when I was done with them and I had the high I craved, I killed them so I didn’t have to see what I had done and see how far I had fallen.”

  “Nevar,” she whispered.

  “I’m not done… it gets better.” He grinned at her, flashing his emerging fangs. “So the vampire you threw across the club… Villandry. He’s the vampire who got me hooked and the bastard had the audacity to bring Veiron in to clean up his mess. I didn’t want to go cold turkey, because I had hit rock bottom and by embracing oblivion in the form of Euphoria, I had ended up embracing the darker part of myself.”

  He held his free hand up and stared at the black skin that covered it and spread down his arm, permanent now, no matter what he did in an attempt to reverse it.

  “They should have left me alone and maybe I would have killed myself eventually,” he said. “Or someone would have put me out of my misery.”

  “How can you say such a thing?” She shoved his hand from her face and scowled at him.

  “Because it would have been better than what happened.” He held her gaze and refused to look away. “Lysander was right… I vowed not to go after Asmodeus’s weakness and then I went after it anyway. Hunger for revenge was all I knew. I pinned the blame for everything on my master and I thought if I could just strike him down, it would somehow make everything right again. I was weak… a fool. I wanted to hurt him as he had hurt me. I wanted to take everything good from his life and watch him suffer. I found a sorceress who told me that Asmodeus’s weakness was a woman and I plotted to take that woman from him in the most painful way possible.”

  “Liora.” Her hazel gaze turned solemn.

  And now she was coming to understand just how evil he had become and she was already beginning to look at him differently.

  The warmth was leaving her eyes.

  “I waited until Asmodeus had fallen for her and then I handed her over to the Devil. He sent her to sleep in your chamber. Asmodeus went charging in like a white knight to save her and I saw my chance to kill him while he was weak.” Nevar dragged his eyes away from her, not wanting to see all the light leave hers when he confessed this next part. “Liora tried to block me and my sword went through her and Asmodeus. I almost killed her.”

  “You spilled their blood and because of that you’re my master.”

  “I’m the reason you woke up.”

  He dug his claws into the sand.

  “And I’m sorry… I am sorry for everything I have done… but no matter how many times I say it, it doesn’t change that I did it. I did it… I did it all and now the world is going to pay for it. So you see, Lysia… it would have been better if everyone had given up on me and let me die, because there is nothing good left in me. I am not worth saving.”

  He closed his eyes.

  “How am I meant to save the world if I cannot save myself?”

  CHAPTER 15

  Lysia didn’t have the answer to that question, even when she wished that she did, because she could see it was one that pained Nevar and played on his mi
nd. After everything he had told her, and all she had felt in him through their link, she wasn’t sure he would ever be able to save himself, because he didn’t want to be saved.

  He couldn’t see the good that remained locked deep within him, tempering the evil that now existed inside him too.

  It had been that darkness, that dangerous, violent and unpredictable edge, that had drawn her to him when they had first met.

  But it was this side of himself that had made her fall in love with him.

  It was his fight against that darker nature, and his desire and battle to be good despite the evil he held within him, and it was how he never failed to place himself between her and danger, even though she was powerful enough to defend herself.

  It was the fact that he had protected her from the angels who had tried to take her away.

  That touched her most of all because she now understood how he felt about his demonic self, but that side of himself had come forth, ready for him to use it if he needed it to give him the strength to keep her safe from harm. He had fought it, but she had no doubt he would have embraced it if she had been in immediate danger.

  He had come back for her too, after the others had upset him and he had left. Asmodeus had warned her that he wouldn’t return, and her heart had hurt on hearing that. She had left the group and he had come back to her. He had come back for her.

  There was good in him.

  He couldn’t see it but she could.

  He was noble, and perhaps a little broken by the things he had done while despair had gripped him, and he was beautiful in his hunger to be good again and purge the evil.

  If he could only see that side of himself as clearly as she could, the good part of him that still existed and knew right from wrong, felt remorse because of the things he had done and strived to change so he wouldn’t commit the same atrocities and mistakes. If he could see it, she felt sure he would believe he was worth saving.

  He would finally find the strength to save himself.

  She slipped her hand into his and linked their fingers, losing herself in the beautiful contrast of his inky black skin against her pale.