Angel Fury (Immortal Legacy #2) - Ella Summers Page 0,1

his arrival with cries of joy.

But he was a good person inside. He’d proven that to me the last time we’d worked together. He’d been willing to sacrifice himself to save me.

In this cold, dark world, I could have done a lot worse for a husband.

“I only hope you don’t snore in your sleep,” he said.

I folded my arms over my chest. “Angels don’t snore.”

He winked at me.

He sure was making light of our situation. And that was what most people didn’t realize about Colonel Damiel Dragonsire—that he had such a wicked sense of humor. He didn’t reveal it to most people. No, they only ever saw the cold, stone-faced Master Interrogator. It was a shame. He was so much more than the Interrogator pin on his uniform jacket.

“Some angels snore,” he told me.

“Like you?” I couldn’t help but tease him.

He grinned. “No, you do, Princess,” he said, using my Legion nickname, one I’d acquired because I was so-called Legion royalty, the daughter of an archangel.

I hated it when most people called me ‘Princess’. The word was loaded with sarcasm. But when Damiel used my nickname, it felt different. For some reason, I didn’t mind it all that much. In fact, I kind of loved it.

“I most certainly do not snore,” I told him.

“Oh, but you do. I should know. I was there.”

I blushed at his innuendo, his implication that we’d slept together. The incident he was referring to had taken place on the Sienna Sea, a plain of monsters, not during an intimate night in a hotel suite. We hadn’t been lovers, merely two soldiers hiding from the beast armada charging across the wilderness.

The naughty spark in his eyes made it difficult to hold on to the truth. Blushing, I turned away to gaze at my reflection in the mirror. My dress, my hairstyle, my flowers—the Legion had determined every detail of my wedding. Just as they decided whom an angel married, they also dictated how an angel married. They defined everything about an angel wedding, down to every tiny detail—especially for an important, historic wedding like this one, the first ever marriage of two angels.

Legion wedding regulations stated that an angel’s gown must be white. The neckline could not dip below the collarbone. The skirt’s hemline must touch the floor and have a train in back.

And so my dress was icy-white with a sweetheart neckline. Skintight lace sleeves hugged my arms, and a lacy layer covered my chest and back. The gown had a mermaid-cut skirt with a long train in back. In short, my wedding uniform was perfectly to regulation.

Beyond the heavy gold doors, the music changed inside the ballroom, switching from quiet, calm strings to something far more dramatic. This angelic fanfare was the signal that the wedding ceremony had begun.

“Don’t worry,” Damiel told me. “Everything will be fine. I don’t bite.” He winked at me.

Then he stepped through the doors into the ballroom. They swung shut behind him.

I waited on the threshold. Damiel really was a good guy beneath it all. I’d only recently met him, but we’d already been through a lot more than mere trials of life-or-death together. I’d seen deeper, into his soul, to the person he truly was behind the Master Interrogator facade. He’d lost friends, he’d been betrayed, but I knew there was still hope in him—and, therefore, there was still hope for him.

I’d come to trust him, respect him. Even like him. But marriage was more than that. Love was more than that. It was more than a shared adventure and a little heated chemistry.

The music in the ballroom changed again, smooth, dramatic strings pushing out the heavy percussion. That was my cue.

I quickly checked my face in the mirror—freezing it into an expression of self-assured superiority, the angel’s face—then I pushed the doors open to enter the ballroom.

I walked down an aisle adorned with golden roses, the color of an angel wedding. The blooms signified new beginnings and the gods’ will.

You look very formidable, Damiel’s voice spoke inside my head.

But still beautiful?

That goes without saying, he replied.

Are you flirting with me?

Of course. I have no shame.

I swallowed a laugh. Laughing angels weren’t very formidable.

Thank you.

I’d come to the end of the aisle.

For what? he asked as I turned to face him.

For trying to make me feel more at ease right now.

The First Angel, dressed in a uniform as black as her long hair, lifted her hands and spoke the first words of the wedding ceremony. Like promotion ceremonies,