life. “In what way do I lie to myself?”
“You loved. A true, honest love. There is no shame in that.”
He barked a laugh and picked up the folded pair of trousers waiting at the foot of the bed, hastily dressing. “Be that as it may, the love was based on a lie. I was weak. He exploited that weakness. He will never have such an opportunity again, and neither will anyone else. Love is a curse. One I’ll be glad to be free of.” This conversation was over. He had angels to attend to. He headed for the door.
I love you… That is no lie.
“Mikhail,” Saphia said, pulling him to a stop. “Seraphim was more than our creator. In the end, he was a terrifying force, feared by all, demons and angels. Don’t forget that.”
“Seraphim is little more than a myth.” He left, feeling stronger and more focused than he had since Severn’s betrayal. Every day brought him closer to capturing his enemy. Soon, it would be over, angels would rule supreme, and everything would be right again with the world.
Chapter 8
Severn
Back inside Samiel’s room, Severn watched the fog swirl below his window, obscuring most of London from view. But Aerie loomed in the distance, rising out of a broken city like a sword thrust into the earth.
He knew angels. Arguably, he was one. And they could change. He’d witnessed the beginnings of it in Mikhail. He would have listened to Severn about the war, about how the correctioners clearing the streets of misbehaving cambion lied to Mikhail every day about speaking with demons instead of killing them. Severn was no fool. These things couldn’t change overnight, but he’d been close to making change happen before Vearn had revealed his lies to the world.
What had begun as a mission of vengeance had turned to one of love. Of course, he’d known it wasn’t going to last, but he’d hoped, perhaps foolishly, that Mikhail would never learn who he was, and together they could have changed the world.
Well, all that had gone to shit. Now, Mikhail was off the rails, murdering demons in their homes and rallying his angels behind him.
He had to be stopped.
“Your angel lover is fucking insane,” Samiel said, snaking his arms around Severn’s waist from behind. He breathed in, his chest expanding against Severn’s back, and Severn closed his eyes, leaning into the touch. A touch that was becoming more comforting with every day.
“I can stop him, Sam.”
“With a blade through his cold heart.” The words brushed Severn’s neck.
He had no intention of telling Samiel or any demon that he intended to talk with Mikhail. They’d strap Severn to a table and continue to try and torture his angelness out of him. No, he had to play this carefully. As carefully as he’d played the angels.
Severn twisted in Samiel’s arms and looked up into the demon’s eyes. In their youth, they’d once tossed around ideas on how to kill Mikhail. Ideas about how they’d stop all the angels. None of those ideas had involved talking with the enemy.
In many ways, his demonkind were just as guilty as Mikhail. Djall’s attack on Aerie was a heinous act, and she hadn’t been alone in planning it. Fighting was all anyone seemed to focus on.
Samiel stroked his thumb across Severn’s cheek. His sharp nail left a sensitive trail. He leaned in, his warm, soft lips brushed Severn’s, and Severn opened, accepting him, needing him. It wasn’t enough. The sex, these moments, they were nothing like the blinding intensity of being with Mikhail, but as incubi, he needed to absorb any freely given ether. To abstain was to weaken himself. But it still felt wrong. Like every kiss, every touch, was a betrayal.
Samiel withdrew and bumped his forehead against Severn’s. “It’s not the same. Between us, I mean. You’re Konstantin, but you’re not my Konstantin.”
His instinct was to lie, to tell Samiel everything was fine, that of course he was the same inside and nothing had changed, but he was so damned tired of lies. “I’m sorry.” It was the truth, but not all of it. I’m sorry I love the enemy.
Samiel’s playful mouth quirked at the corners. “I’ve waited ten years to have you back, what’s a few more months?”
Only, he wasn’t ever getting his Konstantin back. Even if Severn had his wings again, too much had changed. He pressed a hand to Samiel’s cheek and smiled, hating the lie of that smile on his lips. He needed Samiel. Without