Page 8 of Secrets in the Shadow

He murmured the words absently, and Raziel stiffened at the unintended jab. His mate didn’t know he was being overheard, but the truth of those words struck like a lash. Raziel hadn’t let anyone in, not truly, ever. The cost of doing so was too high to pay.

But in that moment, he wished he was the cat, wished it was him being cuddled and petted, instead of always feeling a cruel hand. Although the lovers he’d taken over his existence hadn’t hurt him, they’d only been interested in a night of carnal pleasure.

Like you would’ve let them give you more. You’re so closed off, not even a sledgehammer wrapped in barbed wire could crack the armor welded to your worthless soul.

Raziel blinked, his attention drawn back to his mate when the cat lunged at Cody again, this time batting at his sleeve with more enthusiasm than menace. Raziel couldn’t stop the corner of his mouth from quirking upward. The human’s irritation was as endearing as it was amusing.

“Seriously?” Cody muttered, grabbing a feathered toy from the counter. He waved it at the cat, who instantly turned its full attention to the fluttering lure. “Oh, so now you’re a team player. Make up your mind. Are we friends or not?”

There was something in the way his mate moved, his easy affection for even the most difficult animals, that drew Raziel closer than he should’ve allowed himself to get.

His fingers ached to brush against that fiery hair once more, to feel the pulse of life thrumming just beneath the guy’s skin. He reached out, still invisible but aching for even the briefest contact, one that was gentle and not out to leave behind scars.

Cody turned abruptly, his gaze narrowing as if he could see Raziel through sheer force of will.

“All right,” he said aloud, clearly more to himself than anyone else. “If you’re real and standing there, this is the part where you say something and stop freaking me out.”

Raziel was tempted to respond but bit back the urge, like he had been doing all morning. As badly as he wanted to, revealing himself was just too dangerous. He had only done it last night because… he’d been desperate for someone to see him. Not someone. Cody. Even though they could never be together, a part of him wanted his mate to know he existed.

Cody groaned, muttering, “You’ve gotta stop thinking he’s real. Last night didn’t happen, and you can’t keep talking to thin air like it’s perfectly normal behavior. Yep. Totally sane.”

The corners of Raziel’s mouth twitched. Maybe it wasn’t the worst thing, watching this human unravel just a little. After all, the guy had called him a jerk last night. Justifiable, but still…

Cody turned on his heel, his shoes scuffing as he stalked back toward the main area of the clinic. “Zayde better not have lunch plans,” he muttered. “If I sit alone, I’ll probably start talking to my sandwich next.”

Raziel followed silently, keeping a deliberate distance. He shouldn’t have lingered this long. But watching Cody—seeing the way his mate handled confusion and fear with sarcasm and stubbornness—kept him rooted in place.

Until an electrical charge hummed against Raziel’s skin. His body went rigid, every muscle tensing as the familiar hum of an angelic presence registered like a lightning strike through his senses.

Not here.

The thought was immediate, fierce. He stepped back instinctively, his eyes narrowing as he searched for any sign of movement.

Bashar? Or one of his zealots? It didn’t matter. Any angel nearby was a threat, and he couldn’t risk being discovered. Not with his mate a few feet away.

With a reluctant glance at Cody, Raziel vanished, the air snapping cold in his wake.

The world warped around him, shifting in blinding flashes as he leaped through time and space. The sensation was disorienting, like being hurled through a storm of glass shards.

When he finally came to a halt, the ache in his chest intensified, the air still humming faintly from his flash.

“I hate jumping.” The concealment potion he’d drunk earlier churned bitterly in his stomach. Maybe the unseelie really was trying to poison him.

His surroundings solidified into the quiet familiarity of Ethan’s home. His son’s giggles, lighter and sweeter than Cody’s, rang out, clear and bright even through the thick walls. Ethan’s laughter carried more power than Raziel wanted to admit—a grounding force in a world constantly trying to fuck him over.

Leaning against the nearest wall, he exhaled shakily, waiting for the dizziness to pass. Then he inched closer to the window, his movements silent as he peered inside. This is what my life has been reduced to. Running from a sociopath and creeping around my mate and son just to catch glimpses of them.

Ethan squirmed in Stewart’s lap, his small body a flurry of energy. His bright green eyes, so much like Raziel’s own, were wide with excitement, the stuffed bear sitting on the kitchen table in front of him. The sight of Ethan on his uncle’s lap brought an ache to Raziel’s chest, a painful reminder that he may never be able to do the same.

His feelings might’ve been a tangled mess, too confusing to figure out, but he wished to hell he was numb to the anguish that crushed him every time he wanted to touch or hold his mate or son.

Stewart ran a hand through his blond hair, exhaling with exaggerated patience as the toddler wiggled again. “All right, tater tot, it’s nap time. Let’s go upstairs.”

“No nap!” Ethan cried, twisting in Stewart’s grip. His little fist smacked against Stewart’s chest as he tried to wriggle free. “Wanna pay!”

“You can play after your nap,” Stewart said patiently, standing and lifting Ethan higher. “I blame this on Uncle Killian. He spoils you rotten. All your uncles do, and your grandpa might be the worst of them. They’ve created a little gremlin.”

“Gemin?”

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