Page 12 of Forged in Twilight: The Complete Series

CHAPTER5

Becca followed the direction of Raze’s open stare and, immediately, got the wrong idea.

“Oh.” She slid her hand over her chest, covering as much of her tattoo with her hand. “Is this okay? I didn’t think… I know that, when I was still human, a lot of places didn’t like visible tattoos. But with this outfit—”

Raze still eyed the deep-red petals peeking through her slender fingers. “It’s fine.”

It wasn’t fine, but not for the reason Becca obviously thought.

This… this was unusual. This bubbling jealousy that would’ve turned his blue eyes green if it were possible. He had no idea she was hiding such a work of art etched into her skin, but now that he knew? He wanted to explore every line, every detail of the ink. He wanted to worship it—worship her—but, like mood-changing eyes for angels, it just wasn’t possible.

She might be his soulmate, but he was her boss. More than that, he was supposed to be protecting her from Lucifer and his sycophants. Leering at Becca was inappropriate in so many ways, least of all because she didn’t seem to know what to make of it.

The last thing he wanted was for her to think she was doing something wrong. Beneath her angelic smile and her innocent demeanor, his senses recognized a guarded soul that was both wounded and hardened after her years working for Lucifer. It took everything she had to break free from his clutches, and Raze was grateful that she had.

True, he couldn’t shake the suspicion that she was a plant, that Lucifer had pushed her toward Raze on purpose. If he knew that the demoness was Raze’s soulmate, he had no doubt that his old enemy would get a kick out of using Becca as a tempting lure for the one soul who could never resist her.

But he would have to.

Even if Becca wasn’t a trap set by Lucifer, he couldn’t just drop the bomb on her that she was his fated mate. As a former human, she wouldn’t recognize him for what he was, and she already made it clear that she didn’t believe in the concept of soulmates. Why would she when believing in the “one” was what landed her in the Pit in the first place? She didn’t turn to Raze because she wanted a lover. She wanted a protector—and she would get one.

It wasn’t just the jealousy that was making his teeth grind. It was the possessive urge to watch over her, to make sure she was safe. They’d known each other for barely two days, but that didn’t matter to Raze. In a way, it was as if he’d always known Becca. As soon as he felt the pull toward her, as soon as he knew unmistakably that she was meant for him alone, it was like he’d been waiting for her all along.

Was that what it was like to find his lifemate? He wasn’t a shifter. While the factions were full of all sorts of predatory animals masquerading as men and women, Raze was a royal angel. He expected, if he actually stumbled on his soul’s mate, that it wouldn’t change him.

A day and a half after he walked into the Twilight Bar and Grille and already Raze admitted that he’d been full of shit.

And, worse, he’d put the most tempting female he’d ever met before in his long, long life right where he could never touch her: in his employ.

God, damn it.

* * *

Another night, another shift, and Becca couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched.

It was a sixth sense she honed during her time in the Pit. Though her level of demon was akin to a pencil-pusher in a cramped office full of never-ending cubicles, she never once forgot who she worked for. And her bosses? They really were from Hell.

She’d never forget poor Simon, either. He’d had the cubicle across from hers. Cream of the crop, star of their immediate office, and he accidentally asked for a meager water break during their sixteen-hour shift when the floor lead was in a foul mood. Jerroz pointed a black talon at Simon and engulfed him in flames. Only then, when he was almost entirely burned to a crisp, did Jerroz toss a half-empty glass of stagnant water on Simon.

His screams were etched into Becca’s memory, even now. The stench of flesh on fire and burning hair took months to leave her nostrils, and the black patch of what used to be Simon was a constant reminder even after Peter took over the cubicle.

She’d seen a lot during her service to Lucifer. But that? That had given her the push she needed to find some way to break out of the Pit.

Then, when she added the rumors swirling around Sin City and added it to the few snippets she picked up while she was working, she hoped—she prayed—that she would find sanctuary with Raziel.

With Raze.

Becca flushed at just the thought of him.

It had barely been a week since she did the bravest—though not reckless, since that title definitely belonged to the impulsive way she sold her soul to Lucifer—thing she’d ever done in her life: throw herself at the mercy of the cold, calculating angel prince.

Only Raze was nothing like the image of barely restrained fury and ice that she’d been led to expect. Sure, he’d seemed that way when he first entered the bar, but it wasn’t long before Becca understood that there was more to the imposing angel than she initially thought.

Cold? Hardly. There was untapped fire deep inside of that stunning male, and Becca was a demoness straight from Hell. If anyone knew about flames, it was her.

Fury? Maybe. She’d caught a few glimpses of a leashed anger in the time since she’d known him, but not at her. Never at her. So while Becca was positive that he wasn’t a man she wanted to get on the wrong side of, he didn’t frighten her. Not anymore.

In fact, she found herself looking forward to his inevitable visits while she was making the rounds on the casino floor. No matter how busy he was—and she knew that Raze had to have plenty of demands on his time—he always tracked her down, if only for a few minutes’ chat, leaving her almost breathless when he left again.

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