Page 25 of Semi-Fallen

I’m good, she signed. I feel…strong. Really strong.

Lucien closed his eyes and felt his muscles relax for the first time since he’d powered that damn spell over her heart. She was alive. Heathy, undamaged, and safe. For now, at least.

The feel of her tiny palm cupping his jaw had him opening his eyes. She’d moved closer, practically crawling into his lap where he sat on the edge of the bed.

And she wasn’t smiling anymore.

Her eyes were dark, serious, and locked on his mouth. She didn’t say a word, and still he knew she was remembering their kiss.

That damned kiss that had ruined everything.

The damned kiss that he wanted to repeat more than he wanted his next breath.

“We have to talk,” he said through gritted teeth.

Her fingertips traced over his mouth gently—so fucking gently—and he groaned. She was killing him.

So talk, she signed, still close enough that all he had to do to capture that sweet mouth of hers would be to lean forward the slightest bit.

“I felt something when you kissed me,” he admitted.

Her answering smile was so full of sin and sensual promise he had to ball his hands into fists to keep from reaching for her again. I felt something, too, she signed, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

He supposed he’d walked right into that one. “Not that,” he said dryly. “I felt a…connection between us.”

A frown line knit her smooth brow. I felt it, too.

Lucien swallowed hard. “It goes beyond like or even lust. It’s more elemental than that.”

I realize that. But why are you looking like our connection is a bad thing?

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Not bad. Just complicated.”

So uncomplicate it.

Easy for her to say. He supposed there was no way to ease into this conversation. He was just going to have to lay all the cards on the table and hope she could handle it. “The connection is fate, alright? For some reason, we’re fated to be together.”

She blinked at him for a moment, then…smirked. Thanks for the news flash, Captain Obvious.

That was so not the reaction he’d been expecting.

He couldn’t remember a time in his long, long life when he’d been rendered speechless. Until now.

It took him several moments of sputtering while she shook her head and smiled at him patiently before he was able to say, “You knew? And you accept that?”

She shrugged. It’s fate. What’s to accept?

If only it were truly that easy. “We can’t accept it, sweetling. I’m an angel, you’re Nephilim. We can’t be together.”

Fate seems to disagree with you on that.

He was starting to think fate—and God—had a tragic sense of humor and he was the butt of a really sick cosmic joke. “Fated mates aren’t as unavoidable as you think. Yes, we’re drawn to each other, and that pull can’t be broken. But it can be rejected.”

She cocked her head to one side and studied him through narrowed eyes before saying, So, you’re suggesting we ignore our fated connection, the fact that we were, in fact, chosen by higher powers beyond even your comprehension, to be together, because, what, it would be complicated?

“It’s more than complicated, Lane. Once we figure out how to keep you safe, we need to go our separate ways. I can’t become one of the fallen, and you deserve a normal life. You’d never have that with me.”

She snorted. Normal. Did you somehow miss the fact that I’m Nephilim, was raised by vampires, and work at Section 8 for a psychic, a dhampyre, and a demon? That my best friend sees auras and my combat instructor can move things with her mind? Lucien, normal was never in the cards for me. And if we’re meant to be together, maybe you won’t have to fall. Maybe we’ll find another way.

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