Page 39 of Fated for Dawn

He arched a brow. “Besides my incredible wing massages?”

I smiled. “You hum when you’re happy. It’s very faint—almost indiscernible. Sometimes it’s soft, other times it’s some terrible pop song Chad got stuck in your head.”

His brows lifted in surprise. “I do not.”

“You do.” I traced my fingers lightly over his wrist, feeling his pulse beneath my touch. “And you did it just now.”

Rafe exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “You really notice that?”

I squeezed his hand. “Of course I do.”

He brought my finger to his mouth again, pressing a tender kiss against it. “Most people just see an angel. But you… you see me.”

The tenderness in his voice made my heart ache in the best way. “That’s because you are more than just an angel, Rafe. You’re kind, patient, a healer, an amazing artist, a true friend. And you’re mine.”

The depth of emotion in his eyes held me captive, and I leaned in, pressing my lips to his.

The kiss was soft and unhurried, every movement deliberate. I loved how Rafe kissed me—how he savored every brush of our tongues, every quiet moan that slipped from me, every shared breath. It was sensual and magical like time had paused just for us.

When we finally broke apart, I rested my forehead against his, breathless.

My stomach growled, breaking the silence, and we both laughed.

“I guess we should eat,” I said, sitting up and reaching for the food.

Rafe lit the candles, and their soft glow added a romantic touch to our makeshift picnic.

“Tell me something I don’t know about you,” I asked.

Rafe paused, thinking. “Did you know that I used to play the harp?”

I raised an eyebrow.The harp? That’s both unexpected…and yet totally on brand for an angel.

He laughed a bit sheepishly. “It’s mandatory for angels to learn to play an instrument as a child. I wanted to learn the guitar, but my mother thought the harp would suit me better.”

“Can you still play?”

“A little. It’s been years, but I could probably pluck out a tune or two.”

“I’d love to hear you play sometime.”

He smiled a soft and genuine expression. “Maybe I’ll serenade you one day.”

“I’d love that,” I said, then smirked. “What about Zade? What instrument did he get stuck with?”

Rafe chuckled. “The xylophone.”

I barely suppressed a snort. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope. He wanted to play the drums, but Mom insisted. To this day, I have no idea how she convinced him.”

I shook my head, grinning. “That’s an image I never expected.”

He pulled me close, wrapping his arms and wings around me. We lay back on the blanket, gazing at the endless expanse of stars above.

“You know,” Rafe said after a long, comfortable silence. “I used to be afraid of the night. As a child, I thought the darkness would swallow me whole.”

I looked up at him, surprised. “Really?”

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