Page 41 of Seraph's Tears
Gabriel laughed above me, a deep belly rumble that betrayed his enjoyment, too. His hands around my waist tightened, and he tangled his legs in mine, then barrel-rolled through the sky.
My stomach flew sideways, and I nearly cast up my accounts. But my soul was among the clouds and my joy knew no bounds. If getting caught out on the moors during a nighttime thunderstorm was all it took to experience flying, I’d happily sign up to do it again.
Not that I’d tell Gabriel. He’d frown and growl at me if he thought I’d endanger my safety again.
It had been three days since my accident, and we’d both pretended my ankle was too swollen for me to traverse the manor, climb the stairs to my chamber, and crawl into my bed. Instead, he’d told me to sit in bed most of the day, and if I needed to go somewhere like the kitchen for food, he’d carry me in his arms. We slept in his bed. It was so massive we could’ve easily sprawled out and never touched one another. But in the night, somehow, I always found my way to him, and one of his wings always drifted across my body. We didn’t talk about it. We hadn’t explored one another’s bodies, either. I thought Gabriel’s concern for my ankle overrode some of his interest in me. Either that or it was a one-time experience, and I didn’t want to think about it like that because I hated the idea of never wrapping my body around him again.
On the third day, I was going out of my mind. I could only stare at the painted map on the wall for so many hours. Gabriel had tried to bring me books, but the manor didn’t have much. I’d ended up mending and sewing much of the day.
So when Gabriel had landed on the balcony, wings spread for balance, and invited me up into the air, I couldn’t contain my delight. I’d scrambled for warm clothing and hurried to his side.
And now I flew through the air, arms spread wide and Gabriel at my back. His heat kept me from shivering from the altitude.
“Can we go higher?” I shouted up at him. I craned my neck to catch the underside of his chiseled jaw. He wore a leather vest but was otherwise shirtless. His dark, nearly-shaggy hair whipped in the wind, and I longed to reach up and run my fingers through it.
Gabriel glanced down, his fierce expression softening into a smile. He glided through the air, then beat his wings back to stall his progression across the moors. We gently turned vertical, Gabriel’s legs untangling from mine.
“Are you ready?” He nuzzled my ear.
“Turn me,” I told him. “I want to see you.”
He immediately shifted me in his arms, turning me so our fronts melded together and I could wrap my arms around his neck.
“Hello.” I smiled.
Gabriel’s smile was as blinding as the sun and just as beautiful. His wings lifted high above our heads and beat downward, shooting us up among the clouds.
I clung to him, reveling in the feeling of his arms around my waist.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured, eyes never leaving mine. “I’ll never drop you.”
“I know you won’t.” The words escaped before I could think them through. But it was true.
When we were under the cloud cover, I glanced below and gasped at the patchwork quilt of meadows and moorland. “It’s gorgeous!”
He smiled. “Flying with you makes me remember the joy of learning it all over again. The wonder.”
“You remember?” I inquired as he flapped a steady rhythm to keep us in place.
He nodded. “Seraph wings don’t mature until puberty. Before then we can glide from small heights, perhaps travel a short distance, but nothing like this. We learn when we’re around fifty years old, more or less.”
I shook my head, marveling at such a long lifespan. Don’t fall in love with him, I warned myself. It can only end in heartbreak. “Incredible.”
His brows drew together. “What?”
I blinked. “Hmm?”
“You had a look on your face.”
“Did I?” I searched quickly for an excuse. “What did it look like?”
“Sadness.” His thumbs stroked circles on my lower back. “What makes you sad, little human?”
My lips twisted, irritation and amusement twining through me. “I’m about to be angry if you call me little human again.”
He rolled his eyes, a human gesture he must’ve picked up from me. “What makes you sad, fierce one?”
Much better. I laid my head against his chest, and he sucked in a breath. “We had very different childhoods,” I landed on. The marks on his chest from my tears had disappeared quickly, thank goodness. I hated thinking I had caused him pain.
