Page 60 of Angel's Smoke

Anna peeled off her clothes and hucked them into her hamper, wishing they’d hit the bottom with the same force she’d put into her throw. They didn’t. Then she grabbed her bathrobe, the one overly plush number that did a shit job of keeping both her breasts fully covered but made up for it with its length and softness, and cinched the belt high above her belly.

It was the only armor she had to protect herself against the events of that evening. Seeing every one of the angels unleash the full force of their celestial fire, and then being communally cowed by something no bigger than a long sewing needle, was as humbling as it was heartbreaking.

They couldn’t go home. Not all of them. Not fully. None of them even knew what going home would look like when they did, but yet one of them still had to.

And the truly awful person inside of her had been frickin’ glad for the raw confusion in the moment, the pinched brows and soft curses that bounced from each one of Iron’s brothers as they all realized time had betrayed them.

Because it meant she got a few more hours to savor Iron before the weight of his family’s decision sent them all down a course they couldn’t turn back from.

Iron didn’t come to her. He didn’t seek her out or check on where her mind was at while he was likely trying to keep his own from falling apart. Instead, her only awareness of his presence came in the form of the bathroom door creaking open and the shower rushing to life.

Anna padded to the bathroom and joined Iron in the small space. He’d already shucked his flannel, shoes, and socks, leaving him in his jeans and black tank top. The bracers lay on top of his shirt, an acquiescence he only ever made when they were alone like this, and his hair had been unbound, with its ends already curling from the shower’s steam. But it was his eyes that took her breath away, just stole it right out of her lungs as he walked over to her and, without saying anything, parted the collar of her robe and delicately pushed the fabric over her shoulders, baring all of her to him.

The fire that burned in those eyes was desperate, the same kind of stuff she imagined could both destroy and rekindle entire star systems. It was a phoenix’s hope that simmered there, carving its determination and service into every muscle that flexed before her as he placed her glasses on the edge of the sink, then grabbed her hand and led her into the shower.

The rest of his clothes hit the floor before the tile’s chill had an opportunity to seep into her feet. Because then he was there, surrounding her with his unabashed strength and sex. Their bodies clashed with the unspoken warning of a thunderclap. She claimed his mouth with a fury of her own, gripping and pulling her frustration and agony into his scalp. Iron growled back against her tugs. Good. She wanted more, needed his outward display of savage heartache that could never be matched with words. Anything requiring communication was done through the slick movements of their bodies.

Iron grunted his crushing need into his kiss, then palmed her ass and lifted her above him, dragging feverish caresses of his lips across her collarbone and breasts. Their frantic movements became a conversation of their own.

I fucking hate this, but it doesn’t change the fact that you’re mine.

Anna pushed the pad of her foot off the back of the shower wall, spinning them so he was caught in the spray and she had more leverage when he positioned himself just right so she could sink down on his cock.

I don’t want to think about anything other than you.

Iron entered her with a primal growl, shifting his support of her to one arm while he braced his other against the tile next to her ear. He pumped higher, harder, his balls slapping crudely against her flesh, feeding parts of himself into her that she never knew she could hold.

I can’t take you with me.

Anna cried against his onslaught, gripping him fiercely, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes and mingling with the shower spray that pelted his massive shoulders.

You’ll be inside me forever. Nothing will change that.

Her orgasm shattered not only her body but her heart. Iron, too, bucked through the pleasure-pain of what he’d wrought upon her. The laments that erupted from them both were cast into the steam around them like the desperate howls of dying animals. It was breaking her. Every touch, kiss, and shift of muscles against her skin tore new holes into a soul that had already been patched together a thousand times, leaving her with nothing but the threadbare integrity of tenuous promises she knew he couldn’t keep. Ripples of urgent and deeply seated awareness flashed through his eyes as she kissed him through the tremors of their connection, and she wanted to cry all over again at the sight.

His promises stared back at her, sorrowful yet determined regardless of themselves. They were the clingings of an anguished and hopeless warrior who had finally found his soul but was fated to lose it.

And all she could do was bury her wet head against his strong shoulder and hold him through the agony.

Among the strands of limp and soaking hair and the fog of steam surrounding them, Anna was struck with the one word she and Iron had refused to give voice to, despite the fusion of their bodies all but yanking it from them.

It was an ending to a beginning that had never left the starting gate.

Goodbye.

Anna hadno clue what time it was, only that the sun had recently gotten its act together without her. She stretched her body, smiling at the familiar soreness that her inner thighs hadn’t entirely gotten used to but now knew there was no point in protesting anymore. Her whole body had been a revolving commuter train of activity over the past few months, having gone from off-peak operations lulls to rush-hour acrobatics. Even the large kiwi inside of her—or plum, depending on which pregnancy app she looked at—had taken to exercising, with movements decidedly more forceful than goldfish flutters.

Groaning, she rolled over and sighed at the cooling depression that met her palm. At some point in the night, she and Iron had finally collapsed into bed, only agreeing to give up the ghost of consciousness because it had been through unconsciousness that they’d originally found each other. He’d whispered his promise to her again, that he’d always find a way to care for her, and she’d shushed him mightily by placing her palm over his mouth and telling him to continue this conversation in the dreamscape.

It didn’t matter that they hadn’t seen each other there since they’d connected in real life. It was a thread she needed to cling to, one he had no choice but to oblige her with.

Too bad she’d dreamed of nothing.

The rustic scents of oatmeal and earthy maple finally pulled her out of bed, though let the record show she did so under extreme duress.

“Figures he’d already be making breakfast.”

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she felt around her nightstand for her glasses. When she couldn’t find them, she remembered how Iron had left them on the edge of the bathroom sink. Normally, he’d be attentive enough to make sure she had them near before bed, but like she could blame him? They couldn’t even get their own speech to show up for work last night, let alone demand employment from any of the other parts of their brains.

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