Court of Sunder (Age of Angels #2) - Milana Jacks Page 0,47

You are upset.”

When I didn’t move, he did and enveloped me in a hug, closing his wings around me. Soon, my body relaxed, and my mind drifted into the Before. “I remember sitting on trial for murder. I remember the guilty verdict. I remember screaming self-defense and a bunch of men not believing me. Then the memories stop. What happened to me? Did they execute me? Am I even alive?”

“Your trial must’ve occurred at the same time the angels descended into the mortal realm. Do you not remember the aftermath?”

“No.”

“It’s for the best.”

“I want to know everything.” I looked up at him.

He lowered his head, angled it, and kissed me. He kept kissing me, and I opened my mouth and received his tongue. A hand wound into my hair, and he guided my head where he wanted it, deepening the kiss, growing harder against my belly. Inside my chest, I swore my soul took flight, and I knew I loved this angel who’d kidnapped me and who would weaken the commander and make him stand alone against Lucifer and his wretched army.

Raphael picked me up and levitated. He pulled up my dress and entered me. I grabbed his shoulders and dug my fingers into his skin. He plowed my body as if it were a fertile field, and at my ear, whispered, “When my seed takes, I will know. I look forward to sensing another life within these walls, but most of all, I look forward to watching your belly grow. For that, I will need a Court and peace. I will need wings to secure that peace. I will need your love and loyalty.” He made me come and then emptied himself inside me.

That night, I didn’t dream.

Chapter 18

Nevaeh slept in peace. I watched her beautiful features. Her strong jaw, the lifted cheekbones, the long eyelashes and plush lips. “I am grateful, Father. I hope I’m following the right path. Is she my guiding light?” I had spared Uriel. I didn’t know how I found it in me to spare him, but she’d asked, and I had done it.

When Michael decided he would save the mortal realm from Father’s wrath, I followed Michael. I believed in him. I put the faith of my males in him, the faith of the realm in him, and then he turned and took my wings. Remembering how he ripped them off with no mercy and locked me in his keep, leaving me starving and watching my wings rot on the wall, made me get up and dress. I selected a purple robe and strapped on my belt.

From under the floorboards, I took out my sword. Not the one Michael had made for me, because he’d kept it after the battle, but the one Uriel gifted me after our victory over a seraphim called Enge, a six-winged creature who sought to take a pillar from Heaven and carve his name on it.

I exited my chambers and found my males in the hall, at attention, waiting for me. Lightning cracked in the sky. The Command Fleet had followed Uriel. They would try to retrieve him. “We need wings,” I said to my males. “We shall have the Command Fleet wings. We shall have all Michel’s wings if we have to. The Court of Sunder will stand tonight, tomorrow, and the next day, until the end of days.”

They hummed.

I exited the House, eyes on the sky. Dawn approached, and with it, the fleet lined up in the clear night sky. Their wings erect, they stood in a marvelous display of discipline and endurance, hoping, perhaps, to frighten me. When I heard my males follow me outside, I raised a hand. “I will take from the land this time. Stay back.” Barefoot, I walked down the steps and into my garden, feeling nature seeping into my body. Grass withered where I stepped, leaves shrank, turning brown. The roses I’d recovered only yesterday gave up their petals.

I spun energy around me. It circled, first like a wind, then, as I rose higher toward the standing fleet, the energy spun like a tornado, ruffling the white wings of the front line. I lifted Uriel from the lawn for the fleet to witness. They remained in position, calm, collected, disciplined, but I felt their hearts beat faster in horror as I slowly sucked on his energy. An immortal was full of life, and Uriel’s fueled my wind, propelling it farther past the front line and toward the middle of their