Page 74 of Sleeping Redemption
Through the grace of his touch as an archangel, everywhere he touched while preening me was left with a slight afterglow. Even my onyx feathers had a healthy aura after his fingers paid them some mind.
Once he finished one wing, he moved to the other, my eyes drifting closed while he pampered every feather without hesitation or complaint. When his preening was completed, he bent over and kissed the narrow patch of flesh on my back between them.
“There,” he said with finality. “That’s how it’s done.”
I smiled lazily, feeling at ease and refreshed.
“Thanks, Sy.”
There was a small pause before he spoke with a gentle and heartfelt promise, “I will always do right by you, Kinley. Don’t ever forget that.”
Chapter Thirty
Rook gave an extravagant bow before me as his hand offered up a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, à la demon cum style. He’d cut it into the shape of male genitalia with ‘congrats on taming Sy’s cock’ written on the outside curve of the fine China he served it on. Given the dark color of the substance used to write the message, I was certain Rook used his spunk.
I sat there at the kitchen’s center island wearing one of Atlas’s burgundy tees that I had tossed on before coming downstairs. My body swam in it, fitting more like a dress than a shirt.
I giggled, accepted Rook’s thoughtful offering, and set it down on the counter in front of me.
Sylas walked into the kitchen wearing a fresh pair of jeans and pulling his shirt down over his head before heading to the fridge. As he pulled out a bottle of water, Rook retrieved a second sandwich and set it down next to mine.
With a cheeky grin, Rook looked over at Sy. “Mate, don’t feel left out. I made you one, too.”
The sandwich he offered up to Sy was much like mine. However, it appeared to be cut out in the shape of a cunt. The message sprawled across the top of the plate was less congratulatory in nature and more blunt—‘fucking finally.’
Atlas leaned against the counter, stifling a laugh at the cross look on Sy’s face when he stepped up to the center island.
A quiet mumbling came from Sy as he shook his head.
“Jesus Christ, there is something wrong with you,” he said before taking a long swig from the chilled water bottle he had just gotten out of the fridge.
Immediately, I began chowing down on what was on my plate while my archangel returned to his typical brusque self, even if subdued slightly.
With a glimmer of affection in his grey eyes, Atlas warmly smiled at me.
“You know, angel, I never saw this coming,” he said with amusement.
My eyes met his as I raised both brows.
“Never sawwhatcoming?” I grinned at him, intrigued by his statement.
He leaned over as his hand came underneath my chin, tilting my head back slightly so I stared up at him. Lightly, his lips brushed over mine as he spoke against them. “Seeing you open yourself up to more than just me. Allowing yourself to be cherished by each of us in the way you deserve. It was my greatest fear after I was taken from you on St. Cassius that you’d never find your balance and happiness.”
After a gentle kiss to my lips, his tongue flicked out and licked the corner of my mouth where there was a smudge of the sandwich’s filling.
“Aye, I’m incredibly proud of you, love,” Rook stated with a sense of pride in his words.
Then, we all looked over at Sylas. He stood there looking back at us with a stoic expression before clearing his throat as the other two gave him expectant looks.
Setting his water down on the counter, he lightly wrapped his hand around the back of my neck and gently tugged me toward him as he pressed a kiss to the top of my head.
“You’ll always have us, Kin.” His breath was warm against my scalp as he spoke.
I sat there wondering if this was where I was meant to be, surrounded by my guardian, Heaven’s warrior, and an eccentric trickster. A sensation filled me that I wasn’t sure I had ever felt, not in this capacity.
Breaking the tender moment, Rook’s phone sounded with Warrant’s “Cherry Pie” blaring from the front pocket of his jeans.
Retrieving the device from the confines of his pants, he placed it to his ear. “‘ello, Rookamus speaking.” His voice sounded overly professional like he was addressing the President of the United States.
