Page 31 of Angel's Smoke

He wanted to comfort her, to hold her hand properly and impress upon her some of his strength—mages knew he had enough of it—but she had been far too close. When he first arrived at her cabin, he’d only ever meant to look after her. Make sure her generator was up and running and that she had something to eat other than Red 40 and high-fructose corn syrup. The rest, he’d told himself, would come later. It had too.

But that was before her lips parted against his mouth and a gentle mewl of delight vibrated through her chest and into his. Iron gripped the sides of her face with both hands, testing the feel of her beneath his palms. She fit so slightly against him, so much so that he feared he had no reference for the delicacy required to cradle such a creature. Her skin was soft, yet cold. Her jaw was slim but proud and stiff, urging closer with each drugging pull she sought to take against his lips.

The action tugged a pained growl from his lungs, and she swallowed it down as she explored him further, mapping out his mouth with plundering precision that set his blood to boiling.

“You taste . . .” she said, pulling away just long enough to speak the words but never opening her eyes. A gathering of wrinkles collected between her brows, giving her the effect of one understanding an emotion but not the enormity behind it. “You taste like . . . smoke. Something woodsy and fleeting.”

She leaned forward and kissed him again, this time pressing her mouth to his in short searching pecks. There was care and consideration in the act, as if she were sampling a tasting menu. But every pull of her pillowy lips teased out of him more of an urge that he’d not experienced since his past had consumed his present and future.

Trapped beneath the silken brushes of Anna’s boldness, he let himself forget—forget all about the war and a home that he wondered whether his honor clung to more than he did. He wantedthis, more hours with this soft beauty who, in such a short time, had overwhelmed his mind more than any mage ever could. He wanted to learn more about her, to praise and pamper her, to ask about her interests and see the changing seasons through her eyes. These were desires he’d not allowed himself to entertain for so long, and he hadn’t realized just how much of a prison his abstinence had become. How fucking lonely it was.

Iron pulled his mouth from hers and dragged his lips along the edge of her jaw. “You taste . . . better. So much better than any of it.”

Just as he was about to plant a secret kiss behind her earlobe and nuzzle at the juncture of the downy hairs there, a surging heat clenched every muscle in his body. Flames, hot and damn angry, flooded his frame. His cock, thighs, biceps, everything seized up and held him prisoner to his own power.

Shit. It’s happening.

Banking the roar that threatened to burst free behind his clenched teeth, Iron punched through his paralysis and tackled Anna to the floor, smothering her as much as he dared and tucking her head against his chest.

“Iron! What are you?—”

“Close your eyes. Just keep them closed.”

He felt the instant his angel fire was lost to him. The powerful celestial comfort that had always sat at the ready within his core leached from his body in banded ribbons of blue flame. Anna lay beneath him, her head cradled in the crook of his shoulder, her hands having no other recourse but to cling to his back.

And then he knew. When the sharp bite of her fingernails began scraping at his scapulas, he knew she saw it. The fire—hisfire—engulfing them both.

“It won’t harm you, Anna. Just breathe through it. Remember what I told you. The heat isn’t real. The spark of your soul is calling to mine, pulling my fire from me, but the heat isn’t real. Let go, sweet one. Relax your body and return my fire to me.”

Anna’s frame shook beneath him, and as he braced his thighs around her hips, securing her with his strength, a new fear took root. She was pregnant and mortal. What if his flames didn’t play well with wild cards? What if he was causing her baby distress or far worse?

Her muffled screams beat against the wall of his chest as the flames rose higher and brighter around them. He’d managed to kick the pillows away, but there was no helping the rug beneath them. If he couldn’t calm her down soon and regain control of his fire, they were in a very bad way. Iron lifted his head and glanced at the tinder box of their surroundings. The snowstorm outside was a blast of cold he desperately needed, but using his power to puncture the window with an iron rivet from one of the ceiling’s wood planks would only feed the flames more oxygen.

Iron bit back a curse.

He’d asked too much of her. Far too much.

At a loss and out of options, Iron called on his wings using the only magic he still had available and draped them around him and Anna. The flames spread wide over his wings, keeping the worst of the din away from her. Then he dropped his head low, pressed his lips to her sweat-slicked forehead, and held them there. After a beat and beneath the arc of flames surrounding them, he pulled away from the kiss and said, “You take all the time you need. I’ll be here for you when you come out of it.”

There was nothing more he could do. He’d dragged her into a mess of his own making and had left her stranded, helpless and hopeless, fighting to control a power that she had never even known existed a few hours ago. Iron clutched his wings more tightly around them both, gripped the back of her neck, squeezing his support into her, and waited.

Slowly, the nails at his back lessened their assault. As Anna unlatched each finger, the flames around them sank lower and lower, until finally she let her hands fall to the floor and his full angel fire funneled back into his core. Once he was damn certain he had complete control of his power again, he sat up and looked at Anna.

“Are you all right?” he rasped out. By the mages, she looked terrified. Paler than he’d seen her and braced against him like a woman barricaded behind a door with the enemy surrounding her.

Fear bled from every feature.

Iron hauled himself off her and made damn sure there was a good ten feet between them, though he would have preferred ten miles if it took away her fear. Once her vital signs returned to normal and his celestial senses were satisfied she wasn’t in any pain or harm, he risked speaking again. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I shouldn’t have touched you. I knew the risks, and I took them anyway. I won’t do it again. You have my word.”

Anna sat up and rested on her elbows. “I-I’m okay.” Then her eyes grew round as she tracked the arcs of his wings, and he cursed again, forgetting he’d yet to call them back.

“It’s too much, I know.” It was all too much. His past, his magic, the responsibility he’d heaped on her shoulders of helping him reunite with his full power so he could, what, give his brothers back their lives while robbing Anna of hers?

Fuck that.

Iron shook his head, disgusted and wishing like hell he had a charmer to dismember instead of taking on the hack job he was thinking of doing on himself. Standing taller than the three fucking inches he felt, he recalled his wings and went over to the door to shove his feet into his boots.

“Where are you going?”

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