Page 57 of Angel's Smoke

“You’re all I need.”

She swallowed hard and burrowed her face farther into the protection of his body. “My heart’s breaking, you know.” It was a quiet confession, one she hoped wouldn’t influence the turn of events, but also one she couldn’t keep in any longer.

Her revelation was gobbled up by the wind and carried off to who knew where. Then Iron stood, tossed the remaining bit of ice cream cone and napkins into the garbage can near their bench, and settled her onto his lap with her head tucked beneath his chin.

“I don’t think I can stop that,” he breathed out, a dark anguish tarnishing his words. She gripped him tighter at the sound of his desperation. “But I sure as hell can protect every single one of the shards that do fall. I’ll collect them, cherish them, and combine them with the broken pieces of my own so your soul will always be cared for. No matter what happens.”

There wasn’t any more either of them could say. Anna’s throat had tightened to the point of pain, and after the declaration that Iron had just sent on the wind, she didn’t think he had it in him to argue the point any further.

So, they sat there in silence, both realizing what Iron’s full power would likely mean for the angels’ ability to return home and defeat Cyro, and weighing that against the possibility of a world devoid of such power but which none of them would be around to see.

Chapter28

Iron clutched Anna’s hand tighter in his as he escorted her over a particularly precarious mound of rubble. The structural disintegrity of the dilapidated strip mall had, to no one’s surprise, degraded to levels even disease-riddled rodents and starving dogs wouldn’t entertain for shelter, and yet there he was, setting up shop with his family as though it was a fucking Fourth of July picnic.

Bronze and Clara crested the patch of broken concrete behind them, paving enough of a way through the corrugated mess that, though not exactly red-carpet coiffed for the mates to traverse, was at least moderately more likely to get everyone to the center of the site sans broken ankles.

Beneath the paltry moonlight, Anna wrapped herself more fully around his arm. Then she pulled him up short, drew a happy face with her finger on the cap of his shoulder, and waited. While everyone else had started strategizing about where they were going to position, not only themselves but their mates during the celestial fireworks show, his Anna was tapping out a secret message on his body she knew he couldn’t ignore.

Mages, he loved her little quirks. This one meant she wanted a kiss and that he had to stop what he was doing to bend down and deliver the goods.

As if there was something that would ever claim so much of his attention when her lips were on the line.

There were so many of Anna’s small expressions of humanity that he adored, all crafted in a language she’d created and one he’d become a studious expert in over the past several weeks. They were nothing like Abigail’s blatant seductive pulls. No, any time Anna wanted anything from him, she always couched it under the guise of her particular brand of cozy cheerfulness.

Kisses in exchange for an extra splash of French vanilla creamer in her occasional contraband coffee. Writing her name with her finger across his bare chest, right over where his heart was, when she wanted to wear his flannel, and little else, after sex. The way she tried to keep her tone and demeanorso freaking seriousduring client calls when she knew he was listening to her from the kitchen as he prepared one of her favorite lunches: a grilled cheese sandwich cut into the shape of Mickey Mouse with a bowl of broccoli cheese soup served in a coffee mug.

It was all heart-achingly beautiful and had gone a long way to peel the ice chips off that leathered and near-calcified muscle that had passed for his heart for so long.

Iron leaned down and gladly kissed Anna, letting his lips linger on hers for however many moments the two of them had before the shard in his pocket called him toward a more pressing duty.

Given both the known and unknown nature of what they were all about to face, it had been decided that every angel, mates included, should be present for the next attempt at calling forth the Empyrean’s magic from the shard. Iron hadn’t kept his full bonding with Anna a secret, but he hadn’t felt ready to share its significance with his brothers just yet.

For the rest of the sentinels, they had all had time with their mates over the recent months and years, time to love and learn and cry and grieve with the women who’d sparked the fire within their chests.

Iron had barely enjoyed a handful of weeks. It was pitifully and unfairly short compared to the eternity he’d be staring down if the gift Anna had finally unleashed within him couldn’t live up to the hope his brothers had been harboring for so long.

Anna nipped at his lower lip, then pulled away and placed her forehead against his. “Don’t do that,” she whispered against his lips.

“Do what?” He smiled at the two words that had become their signature question to each other.

“Go places I can’t follow you.”

His world stopped short and his heart flung itself against the wall of his chest at hearing his decree fired back at him. Goddamn, this woman. There was a reason every single one of his recent days had been consumed with incessant thoughts of her. From what she was or wasn’t eating to whether any of the products from the home shopping channel chattering in the background of her living room would make her smile to how long her cabin went in between oil heat refuels. If a thousand thoughts ran through his mind at any given second, nine hundred and ninety-five of them were about Anna.

Iron hugged her fiercely and cupped the back of her head. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And he meant it, with his whole fucking chest. He’d find a way to fulfill that promise to her, even if the fulfillment of that promise couldn’t look like what they’d both hoped.

It was Tungsten who took the center of the circle this time, with Tammy on his right side holding his hand, while Titan and Rose stood at his left. The male’s presence, with his staunch expression and unflinching frame, was a reminder to every single one of them why he wore the mantle of prime sentinel. Whereas skepticism-fueled duty had been the lifeblood of Iron’s will for so long, unabashed loyalty had been Tungsten’s charge. Despite his title being bestowed upon him by the prime mages, he’d earned his place fighting among the Empyrean’s legions regardless, not only as a leader but as a brother as well.

Bronze sidled up to Iron and whispered out of the corner of his mouth, “This has got to be the lamest family reunion we’ve ever had.”

“I didn’t pick this place for the ambiance, asshole.”

“Are you sure? Because I think, with such little cloud cover, our combined fire would look killer against that open sky.” Bronze nudged Iron in the ribs. “Admit it. You wanted to show off for your girl a bit.”

“You’re going a little hard with the humor there. Can’t say I’m entirely in the mood at the moment.” For the love of all the mages, couldn’t his brother read the fucking room?

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