Page 82 of The King has Fallen

He was also stubborn, given to dark moods.

And he was a father.By choice.

He had a heart that filled that broad drum of a chest to bursting. A heart so large and tender, he was forced to protect it at all costs.

Iunderstood.

I did not want to understand.

There were pieces of him Irefusedto understand.

His shoulders rose and that back expanded as he took a deep breath. Then I watched, mouth dry, as he dropped into the water again, submerging entirely… and when he came up, this time his back was obscuredby a pair of massive wings,feathered and black as night, but gleaming—glossy in the water.

He ducked into the lake again, rustling those wings that had appeared from nowhere, then stood, his body braced and strong as he stretched them out until they shadowed the water for a dozen feet either side of him and I couldn’t inhale.

He was… awe-inspiring.

I’d always heard the rumors that the Nephilim had the power to call up wings, but I’d never imagined they would be so breathtaking.

Those wings shifted something in him—he held himself differently, his chin higher, his hands clenched. He flapped them once, twice, three times and they snapped like a sheet shakenout, the surface speckling with the tiny droplets sent raining back to the lake, and rippling with the air currents he blew up.

He turned his head, extending the right wing as if for examination, and his face came into profile—the hard line of his jaw, his brows rugged but not heavy. His expression firm. Certain.Assured.

This was his truest self.

This was what I’d seen in him from the beginning.

The intelligence and foresight. The maturity and self-restraint. The sheer strength.

Then his chest expanded again and he raised both wings high, stretching them as he arched his back, the moonlight highlighting the gleam of skin and feathers. He groaned and something about that sound—so full, so masculine—vibrated in my belly and I sucked in the breath I’d been waiting to take.

Melek heard my sharp intake and turned quickly, wings rustling in preparation for flight.

But our eyes locked.

And even at this distance, he pinned me with that gaze.

Neither of us made a sound, but the air hummed, that undeniable electricity crackling from his gaze, straight to my heart. From his body to my soul.

I leaned forward, bracing, prepared to leap to my feet and throw myself into that water… then all at once, I was reminded.

Who he was.

What he did.

Who he served.

Howimpossibleit would be to be near him.

And all that energy building within me combusted to white-hot rage.

“Why do you do it?” I spat the words like venom.

Melek’s face was an emotionless mask. “Do what?”

“You are strong, intelligent, honorable,powerful.And still you serve that petulant, hedonisticchildof a King?” I hissed.

He turned, expression fierce, his wings snapping and water spraying from them again, pattering to the lake’s surface. “The fact that you use those words shows how little you know him—selfish he may be, show me a royal that isn’t! But call him stupid to your own demise. That male works to beunderestimatedby his enemies—and they always regret it. He is not stupid in the slightest. He is incredibly cunning, strong, and trained. He allows no one to see the sheer strength and fury that he possesses until he has need to use it—and then hedestroyswhoever stands in his path.”

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