Page 21 of Her Fallen Angel

"Perhaps I've grown fond of burns." My fingers tremble slightly as I release another buckle. The heavy leather shifts, and he rolls his shoulders.

Working my way back around, I reach for the final clasp near his throat. His hand captures my wrist, grip firm but not painful. Violet eyes bore into mine, searching for something I'm not sure I'm ready to name.

"What game are you playing?" His thumb traces circles on my pulse point.

"No game." I hold his gaze steady. "Just tired of pretending I don't see past your armor - both kinds."

He releases my wrist slowly, allowing me to unfasten the last buckle. The chest piece comes away in my hands, heavy with the weight of enchanted metal and leather. His undershirt clings to his torso, damp with sweat from training.

My fingers brush his collarbone as I step back, and his sharp intake of breath echoes in the quiet room. The air between us feels charged, like the moment before lightning strikes.

"There," I whisper. "That wasn't so terrible, was it?"

His wings curl forward slightly, the tips nearly brushing my shoulders. "Terrible isn't the word I'd choose."

I take a step back, intending to retreat with his armor. His hand shoots out, fingers circling my wrist. The grip isn't painful, but it's firm enough to root me in place. Heat radiates from where his skin meets mine.

"What do you want?" His violet eyes bore into me, searching for deception. His wings create a dark canopy above us, blocking out the morning light streaming through the windows.

My throat constricts as I swallow. "I want to help you."

A harsh laugh escapes him, echoing off the stone walls. "Help me?" His grip tightens fractionally. "You think you can save my soul, little flame? Redeem the monster?"

"Maybe not." I force myself to meet his gaze despite the intensity burning there. "But I still want to help."

His other hand comes up to brush a strand of hair from my face, the gesture at odds with the predatory stillness of his body. "Such a dangerous little prayer warrior you've become. First offering yourself to the darkness, now thinking you can tame it?"

"Not tame." I lean into his touch, watching his pupils dilate. "Understand. Share. There's a difference."

His wings shift closer, the ash-gray feathers creating shadows that dance across my skin. "Understanding darkness tends to corrupt the ones who try."

"Then let it." The words slip out before I can stop them, hanging in the air between us.

His fingers trail down my cheek to grip my chin. "Careful what you wish for, little flame. Some corruptions can't be undone."

"I know what I'm asking." Even as my heart pounds against my ribs, I hold steady under his scrutiny. "I've watched you push everyone away. Build walls with cruelty and control. But I seepast them now." I lean a little closer. "I want to understand it all."

The muscle in his jaw ticks. His grip hasn't loosened on my wrist, keeping me anchored in this moment of truth between us.

11

KAI’RIN

Ican't think straight anymore.

I doubt she knows what she's asking for, but that doesn't stop my body's reaction. I want to show her how dark I can be. I want to see her handle it.

And before I know what I'm doing, I'm out of my chair, only in my training pants and undershirt, and tugging Aren out the door behind me. This need to consume her is pounding through me, building like a wave of anger since I can't tame it, and I'm about to unleash.

I take her to the closest temple, my mind whirring with thoughts I've been trying to suppress. I storm through the doors, dragging Aren by her arm. Her delicate frame stumbles behind my long strides, but I don't slow down.

"You want to pray so badly?" My voice echoes off the high ceiling. "Let's see how devoted you really are."

I throw her forward. She catches herself on her hands and knees before the grand altar, her dark waves spilling over her shoulders. The sight of her prostrate before me stirs something primal.

"This is what worship looks like." I circle her like prey, my wings spread wide to cast her in shadow. "On your knees, little flame. Just like that."

Her chest rises and falls rapidly, but she keeps her head bowed. The perfect picture of submission. Yet I catch the defiant set of her jaw, the way her fingers curl against the cold stone.

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