Eternal Sin (Primal Sin #2) - Ariana Nash Page 0,72
icy horror.
In saying goodbye for a day, he’d allowed himself to finally love, and by Haven, loving Severn was glorious. It was wanting to spend every minute with him, wanting to watch him watching the dancing angels and see the beauty through Severn’s awe-filled eyes. It was dancing together, bodies close, and it was the feel of Severn clutching him, of crying his name, the taste of him on Mikhail’s lips.
No, he could not give that up. Not even for Aerie.
He’d fought to keep Severn alive. He’d shared half himself with him. And while they’d had their vast differences, it didn’t matter who Severn was inside, Mikhail loved all of him. Always had. He’d done terrible things. Both of them had. But Mikhail was beginning to understand how love forgave the unforgivable.
He could not betray Severn or the allyanse or himself. If it cost him Aerie and his guardianship, so be it.
He strode up the steps. It was still early. He’d left Severn sleeping. He’d tell Tien he’d changed his mind, and they’d have to manage the allyanse instead of destroying it. And if they refused, then Mikhail would take Severn, and they’d leave. Book and the past be damned. They’d leave and go back to the cottage a while. After that, Severn would know where to go.
“Ah, Mikhail.” Tien smiled from behind the reception desk. “You’re early. Follow me, we’ll talk somewhere more private.”
She led him down the same corridors, turned into a stairwell, and descended, where cold lights were the only illumination.
Tien opened a door to a windowless room and stepped aside to allow Mikhail entry. He stopped at the empty table but didn’t sit. “I’ve changed my mind.”
Tien circled around him to take her position behind the desk. She placed her information pad on the table and took her seat. “Please, sit. Let’s discuss this.”
He regarded the chair, and something in his chest flickered inside, briefly shortening his breath. It couldn’t be fear because there was nothing here to be afraid of. He didn’t need to loom over her like some emotional beast. Mikhail obligingly sat as she settled in the chair across the desk.
“So,” she sighed, “you’ve convinced yourself you love the demon.” Her mouth twisted around the word love, her distaste clear.
Her tone grated, but it would. She was a guardian. She’d take some convincing, but she’d listen to him. “It’s more complicated than that.”
“I don’t think that it is.” She opened her pad and turned it to face Mikhail.
On-screen, Mikhail recognized a still image of his own wings spread wide, and Severn, his demon wings flung apart, his back arched, as he fucked Mikhail into the habitat’s bed.
Icy shock stole his breath.
The image was frozen still, but he heard the memories of Severn’s moans. The words they’d shared, bodies combined as one. It was beautiful. And they’d been observed the whole time? Tien had witnessed everything?
“How does seeing that image make you feel?” Tien asked.
She wanted him to be disgusted at himself, and not so long ago, he would have been, but Severn’s face was caught in a precise moment of rapture. His powerful body gleamed. Tight and hard curves were a vision of temptation, and his wings—magnificent. It was not the image that disgusted Mikhail. No. The angel opposite him did that. “You watched us?”
“We observed your coupling both during this time and last night.” She placed the pad down. “Of course, we suspected something along those lines might occur. He is clearly demon of concubi origin, and you—a guardian of Aerie—prostrated yourself before him. He feeds from sex. With this act, you’re making the enemy stronger.” She leaned back, her case rested. “It is not uncommon for the allyanse to go awry. Our procedure will vanquish all of these faults and return you to your original flawless being. You have done the right thing by coming to me. You can still be salvaged, Mikhail.”
The sound of the door lock flicking closed punctuated her words.
Severn’s suspicions were correct. This was not a place of consent, but he had to be certain. “And if I refuse?”
Tien’s smile was as thin as ice. “There are no choices in Haven.”
He let those words settle. Severn had been right about many, many things. Mikhail just didn’t want to hear him. He didn’t want to hear the great institution of Haven was a prison. He’d wanted to believe Haven was the pinnacle of angel care and control. But Haven was no voluntary center helping paired mates produce offspring.