Page 52 of Heal Me

Chapter 22

Charlotte

“Holy shit,” I finally say. That’s all I can come up with after listening to Gabe’s story.

“I was swiftly punished for interfering in the Challenge.”

“What? But why! Kabel broke the rules of the Challenge and would have killed Sam! How is it you were the one punished?”

“Yes, Kabel broke the rules, but the Challenge rules also prohibit outside interference. No exceptions. The Watchers abhor rules and laws, and yet, ironically enough, they’re sticklers for their own,” Gabe says with a bitter laugh. “So Sam was forced to dole out punishment for my violation.”

“He punished you for saving him? That’s really messed up.” Something clicks in my brain. “The tattoos on your back; you told me it was a Watchers’ thing. But they’re not tattoos—those markings are scars.”

“Seventy-seven lashes with a magic whip. A permanent reminder to never break the Watchers’ code.”

“God, Gabe. I don’t know what to say.”

“What can be said?” He shrugs, as if what he just told me isn’t a life-altering tragedy. “After that, I left the Watchers’ world and went into demonic law. Where things aren’t so black and white, and there’s always a defense. Where I don’t have to be reminded daily that my angelic power is what ultimately got my sister killed.”

“Gabe, it wasn’t your—”

He holds up his hand, silencing me. Not knowing what else to do other than to hug him, I climb in his lap and wrap my arms around him, burying my head in the crook of his neck. His body’s tense, his energy radiating wildly. I can never interpret his angelic energy, and right now is no exception, only that it feels louder and denser. Envisioning healing energy pouring from my hands, I gently stroke his back.

“And here I thought I was the only one with baggage.” I pull back and look at his face, worried that I’ve said the wrong thing.

“You still want to be with me knowing the world I come from? Knowing what I’m capable of?”

“You’re not responsible for the world you were brought up in.” I touch his face. “And how can I fault you for protecting your family?” Looking into his troubled eyes, I place a gentle kiss on his lips. “We will do anything for the people we love,” I parrot back his words, them making much more sense now.

“I’m going to fuck you, Charlotte, and I might not be able to be gentle,” he says in a strained voice.

“Good, don’t be gentle.” He picks me up, and I place my hands over his heart, trying to send him comfort.

Our clothes disappear as he tosses me on the bed, shifting into his angelic form. Climbing on top of me, he closes his wings around me to where we’re in our own little privacy bubble. “Touch yourself. I need you ready,” he says, lining up his cock with my entrance.

Moving my hand down and rubbing my clit with the pads of my fingers, I say, shocking myself with my boldness, “I’m always ready for you. Fuck me.” He grabs my legs, spreading me apart as he enters me.

And he keeps his word, holding on to my hip as he pounds in and out of me with an intensity skirting on the edge of painful. I rub my fingertips along his wing, getting them covered in his angel dust before I touch myself again. And that’s all it takes. I cry out, coming all over his cock as he chants something in the Adamic language.

“Fuck, the way your pussy squeezes me,” he grits, pounding into me harder and harder. I’m still riding out my orgasm when he cries out—a broken sound that makes my heart ache.

He falls on top of me, his energy feeling no more settled than when we began. “Gabe,” I say, touching his cheek.

He rolls off me, his wings disappearing. “Sleep,” he says, pulling me to him.

Shrugging out of his hold, I get up and walk to the bathroom, returning with some coconut oil. “On your stomach,” I command.

He doesn’t argue, rolling over. I survey his muscular back, kissing each and every one of his scars. His back muscles twitch as I do so, but he doesn’t say anything. Pouring some oil into my hands, I begin to lightly massage his back, starting with his shoulders and working my way down to his lower back.

“Could I try a spell to help heal your back?”

“If you’d like,” he answers in a sleepy tone. “But I have to warn you—angelic magic is powerful.”

So maybe not the best beginner spell for this baby witch, but where’s the harm? I keep massaging the knots and tension from his body, and soon enough, he’s asleep. I place the bottle on the nightstand and snuggle beside him.

Tossing and turning, I can’t seem to fall sleep—Gabe’s story is running on a continuous loop in my mind. I quietly get up and tiptoe to my bathroom. Now’s as good a time as any to work a spell.

I’ve dried the jasmine flowers Gabe gave me on our first date, and am now using a mortar and pestle. I work quickly, grinding them and then mixing them with coconut oil. Holding my hands over the mixture, I chant quietly:

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