Page 26 of Tortured Soul
“What about my eyes? I—”
“We were not expecting you to be a demon, and I think that’s why Carter was upset and Arc was a little suspicious of you,”Kai had said.
“Oh.” My eyes. Blue eyes. Blue that were usually only seen on Divines.
He released a long, exhausted breath. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Carter wouldn’t have acted like he did if I didn’t.”
“But why did it make him so mad? I don’t get it.” His eyes narrowed in confusion. “I haven’t been here long, but it doesn’t seem likethe cohabitation between Divines and Hellrisers is a problem here. I don’t understand why he would be mad about me being—”
“Fuck,” he mumbled, turning around to bury his face in his hands. “You don’t know.Of courseyou don’t know.”
The room was silent. My face wasn’t even a foot away from his back. All of his different scents mixing together. If I closed my eyes, I could feel like I was drinking a sweet cinnamon coffee next to a small fire on a fall morning.
“I don’t know?”
He ignored me, and I wanted to pry but the smell made me feel warm. Made me want to nuzzle my face in it.
“Your scent confuses me,” I groaned, catching myself as I wanted to step closer. “You’re…what the hell are you?”
He didn’t turn back to face me right away, letting the words linger and the silence stretch.
When he did, his face was once again a mask of carefully controlled emotions.
“My mother was an Archangel,” he admitted darkly.
I sighed in relief. He was some kind of Nephilim, then. The result of a Divine or Hellriser breeding a human. It was short-lived when my eyes latched on his ear, peeking out from the dark hair.
“But your ears…they—”
“My father was a Prince of Hell who decided that he didn’t care about Lucifer’s rules and overstayed his welcome on earth,” he continued, his voice somber and raw with resentment. “Long enough to somehow meet and seduce an Archangel. Long enough for me to be born and already hidden away when he and my mother were said to have been caught and punished.”
The blood froze in my veins.
Princes of Hell were bound to hell. They were allowed to leave only for a few days every decade. Usually breeding humans and creating Nephilims in the process…
But an Archangel? Creating a…an unimaginable hybrid? I didn’t even know it was possible.
“No one did,” he sighed, answering what was obviously a thought spoken out loud. “I don’t belong to any species as I’m the only one of my kind. I was never supposed to exist. If, by any weird circumstance, any Divine and Hellriser decide to breed children, the result usually isa stillborn at worst, a Nephilim at best. No one knows how or why I am what I am.”
I nodded absentmindedly, not breaking eye contact. It made sense. The mismatched eyes, overwhelming presence and aura. Like his body and soul were not sure what to do with his genes. Giving him a hypnotizingly perfect appearance but unable to make a side more important than the other.
“I’ve answered your question,” he rasped, his voice surprisingly soft. We were so close now that his breath brushed over the skin of my face. When did we get even closer? “Will you answer one of mine?”
“Do answers have a price here?”
“They don’t,” he whispered. “I’d like to ask something anyway.”
The sweetness of cinnamon came back, enveloping me. Even if I knew what he was now, it didn’t help with how confusing his scent was.
I gave him a slow nod.
My eyes landed on his lips as they opened only to close. Once. Twice. He pinched them into a thin line.
Why were they so enticing?
Another wave of dizziness made me reach forward and grip his shirt to ground myself. His arm snapped around my waist, the look on his face turning to worry.
“Are you—”
