by Larissa Ione
Harvester and the grandchild he should have had from Limos.
“Limos—”
“I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”
He nodded. “If you need anything…”
“I know.”
There was a tap at the door, and Reaver stood as Arik poked his head in. When Arik saw Limos sitting up in bed, his eyes lit up, and he came inside in a rush.
“Reaver, you have a visitor.” Arik sank down on the bed and drew Limos against him. “It’s Harvester.”
Reaver’s heart skipped a beat. Torn between wanting to stay with Limos and wanting to rush to the female fate had separated him from for thousands of years, Reaver stood frozen to the bamboo floor.
“Go.” Limos’s voice was muffled against Arik’s chest. “Get her.”
Arik gave Reaver an I-got-this nod just as Limos grabbed his wrist. “Thank you for coming,” she whispered. “Dad.”
Twenty-Eight
Harvester stood at the edge of the jungle outside of Limos’s remote beach house, her skin caressed by the steamy tropical breeze, her bare feet buried in the sand. The simple pleasure of warm sand on her skin was something she never thought she’d feel again when she was hanging from meat hooks inside a frozen wasteland in her father’s realm.
Yeah, this was amazing. And she owed it all to the male in scrubs walking toward her with long, fluid strides. The fact that he was no longer an angel didn’t diminish his powerful presence in any way. The mere sight of him made her heart flutter madly.
Technically, he wasn’t supposed to look upon an angel who served in Heaven unless he was given permission, but she wanted him to look. As much as he wanted to.
Oh, on many levels, she was still furious with him. Wasn’t sure she could ever trust him. But she supposed none of that mattered anymore, and she wasn’t going to spend what little time they had fighting. Besides, as the Horsemen’s Heavenly Watcher, they’d be seeing a lot of each other.
“Hi,” she said lamely.
He didn’t say anything. He kept coming at her, his expression serious, and the delicate flutter turned to an ominous thud. Was he angry?
He halted a few yards away, his nostrils flaring, his chest heaving. Burning, raw masculinity emanated from him, and Harvester’s body went hot with feminine appreciation.
“First,” he said, “thank you for getting me out of Sheoul and saving my life.” His voice was guttural, warped with emotion she was afraid to name. But he was wrong. He’d saved her life. “Second, we’re done hurting and hating and going through the bullshit.”
She inhaled sharply. After what happened at Tel Megiddo, she should have expected this, and it was inevitable, after all, but it didn’t stop sensation of her heart being shredded.
Squaring her shoulders, she tried to hide the hurt. “It’s probably for the best.”
Especially given that she was going to have to officially give herself to Raphael tomorrow night.
“I’m glad you agree.” In three strides Reaver was on her, his mouth crushing hers. “No more bullshit,” he said against her lips. “I want you. I think I’ve always wanted you.”
Shock and joy tangled so fiercely inside Harvester that she nearly crumpled to the ground. With a sob of relief, she arched against Reaver and lifted her thigh to hook around his waist as he pushed her backward against a tree.
God, he was a spark and she was dry tinder, and when his hand dropped to her ass to hold her for a slow roll of his hips that rubbed his rigid length against her core, she nearly burst into flame. The cool breeze coming off the ocean did nothing to help ease the heat. If anything, the reality that she was here in this tropical paradise with the male she’d loved and hated for centuries… the same male she’d loved and hated for the past few years… made it all that much hotter.
Reaver pelted her cheeks, jaw, and throat with hungry kisses. His breath fanned her skin, scorching her as he worked his way down, over her clavicle and then lower, to where he flicked his tongue under the V-neck of her silk tank top.
In the distance, Limos’s servants’ laughter rose above the crash of waves and the calls of the sea birds flying overhead.
“Not here,” she whispered.
Reaver dragged his tongue between her breasts as she flashed them deep into the jungle, to a crystal pool off a well-worn path from Limos’s house.
“Perfect.” Reaver stepped back just enough to help relieve her of her top. When she tried to shove down her matching black leather miniskirt, he circled her wrists and held them against her belly as he dropped to his knees in front of her. “No.” His voice was commanding. Hungry. So sexy she didn’t mind that he was taking control. “I get to do this.”
Releasing her wrists, he slipped his hands beneath the hem of her skirt. His palms were smooth and hot, and her thighs quivered as his thumbs stroked her sensitive skin.
Lifting his face, he caught her gaze. His gem-blue eyes smoldered as he slowly slid his hands upward. Inch by agonizing inch, he caressed her legs, kindling a sensual fire that threatened to set off an inferno. She started to pant before she felt the first brush of his fingers against her tender flesh.
“No panties,” he said roughly. “Damn, I’m so going to take advantage of that.”
Please, please take advantage.
Apparently, Reaver could read minds, because before she could catch her breath, he pushed the skirt up to her waist and eased her back onto a wet boulder. In an effortless surge, he draped her legs over his broad shoulders and opened his mouth over her aching sex.
Never before had she felt exposed when she was naked with a male. Copulation had always been about satisfying a basic urge, but this… this was about emotions and a physical desire so deep she felt it in her soul. She hadn’t felt like this since Yenrieth took her virginity.
Anxiety stirred, a protective instinct borne of thousands of years of hard living, and she pushed at him with a soft cry.
“Easy,” Reaver said, his soothing tone bringing her down a notch. “I’ve got you.”
He caught her hands, twining her fingers with his as he looked up at her, his gaze so full of promise that she had to lower her lids and turn her face away before he saw the vulnerability that was probably glaringly obvious.
For a long moment, he was still, and then, just as she opened her mouth to tell him to either get on with it or forget it, he lowered his head and nuzzled her inner thigh. His hot breath fanned her skin as he nibbled his way up, the erotic pinches of his teeth followed by velvet soft kisses that made her squirm in anticipation. By the time she felt the first probe of his tongue between her folds, she was so ready she cried out in sheer bliss.
He teased her out, licking in long, slow strokes before devastating her with quick side-to-side motions or a deep plunge of his tongue. She whimpered as he hit a spot that sent a jolt of electric sensation all the way to her womb.
“Reaver.” She lifted her hips, chasing his touch with wanton abandon.
“You drive me crazy.” He dragged the flat of his tongue through her slit and latched on to her clit, sucking gently. “I need to be inside you.”
“Yes,” she moaned, her body hovering at the edge of orgasm. “Oh… yes.” He did something sinfully wicked with his lips, and she came with a shout, bucking and thrashing so hard he had to grip her thighs and hold her down.
He rose up in a surge of flexing muscle, but even as he centered himself between her legs, she flipped him into the shallow water onto his back. Most males would have freaked out at the manhandling, but Reaver only growled his approval as she took his cock in hand and guided it inside her. The cool water countered their molten heat as she rocked on top of him.
He was big, thick enough to stretch her almost to the point of discomfort, and she reveled in it, taking all of him to the root.
Closing his eyes, he gripped her waist and arched to meet her downward strokes. Each thrust lifted her out of the pool, and on the return, little waves lapped at the juncture where their bod
ies met. Water licked at her clit as Reaver’s cock stroked her on the inside to create a storm of erotic wonder. The musky scent of sex rose up, mingling with the freshness of the ocean breeze and the flowers and leaves surrounding them. It was as if Harvester and Reaver were one with each other, one with nature, and for the first time in centuries, Harvester felt alive, like she was exactly where she was meant to be.
“Damn.” Reaver’s husky voice rolled through her like thunder. “This is so… good.” He opened those amazing eyes, and she lost herself in them and in the moment, letting the sounds of the waterfall and sex take her so high she felt as if she could bump her head on the moon.
She moved faster, the tension inside her building to a fever pitch. She couldn’t get enough of him, could never get enough to make up for time lost.
Arching her back, she took him deep, needing to feel him everywhere. He hissed and jerked, his body going taut as his hot flow spilled inside her.
“Yes,” he gasped. “Fuck… yeah.”
His eyes glowed with blue-hot inner fire that sucked her in and triggered an explosion of ecstasy so powerful she screamed with the force of it. Pleasure crashed through her in unrelenting waves.
Beneath her, Reaver peaked again, and they came together in an overwhelming tempest of rapture so fierce that when it was over, neither of them could move. She collapsed on top of him in a heap, hoping no one stumbled upon them, because she didn’t have the energy to even lift a finger to say hi.
They lay half in, half out of the water for a long time, sated, breathing hard. Harvester nuzzled Reaver’s throat, figuring now would be the best time to break the news. Maybe Reaver was as exhausted as she was.
“There’s something I have to tell you.”
Reaver stroked her back, his warm fingers stirring her insides again. “This isn’t going to be good, is it?”
“No.” Dread descended on her like a swarm of ghastbats as she braced herself for what she was going to say next, but she couldn’t stop her stomach from churning. “I agreed to be Raphael’s consort.”
Reaver sat up so fast she fell into the water. He fetched her, sputtering and spitting, and pulled her onto the sandy bank with him. “Consort? As in… mate?” He brushed her wet hair back from her face. “Harvester? Look at me.”
She didn’t want to. “He wants a ceremony and shit.”
“Why? What the hell—”
Raising her gaze to his, she silenced him with a finger on his lips. “It was a deal to keep you alive.”
“Fuck.” Reaver fell back into the sand and stared up at the canopy of tree branches and clear blue sky beyond them. “Don’t do it. Please don’t do it.”
“I can’t go back on my word,” she choked out. “He’ll kill you.”
“I don’t care.” He twined his fingers with hers. His hand was shaking. “Don’t chain yourself to him for eternity.”
He didn’t care? He seriously would give up his life to make sure she was happy? Dear God, she’d been so wrong about him for so long.
But she wasn’t going to let him die for any reason. She’d put up with far worse than being chained to Raphael if it meant keeping Reaver safe. “There’s more.”
“More? How can there possibly be more?”
“It’s not entirely bad,” she said.
“About time,” he muttered. “But I don’t like the ‘entirely’ part.”
Neither did she. “I’m the Horsemen’s new Watcher. This time on the good side.” She smiled, letting herself forget Raphael’s bargain for a moment. “And it gets better. Brace yourself. I have Limos’s baby.”
He sat straight up. “You… wait… say that again?”
Still smiling, because it was rare to see the usually stoic Reaver flustered, Harvester told him the rest. “Lorelia took the baby to exchange it with Lucifer in Gethel’s womb. But when—”
“She was going to what?” Reaver’s roar sent birds exploding out of the trees. His eyes blazed, promising murder, and nope, Harvester wouldn’t want to be in Lorelia’s shoes right now.
“Reaver.” Harvester lowered her voice, shooting for a tone she hadn’t used in thousands of years, the tone that had always soothed Yenrieth. Well, almost always. Nothing had calmed him after he learned that she’d kept the existence of his children from him. “They didn’t do it. Something went wrong. The exchange won’t work. But now only a Watcher can return Limos’s baby to the womb, and there’s not much time left. If I don’t do it within twenty-four hours, the child’s soul returns to Heaven and she won’t be born.”
“She?” Reaver sucked in a sharp breath. “I’m going to have a granddaughter?”
Feminine appreciation shimmered through her, a primitive, basic response she hadn’t felt in, well… not since before she’d fallen. She’d thought all her tender instincts had been destroyed by her time in Sheoul, but they’d merely been shoved into storage and were now emerging, dusty and unused and utterly foreign.
“You are,” she said. “I promise.”
“Then do it.” Reaver leaped to his feet, his bronzed body gloriously naked, his skin glistening with water droplets she wanted to lick. “Why are you waiting?”
“Because I’m not powerful enough by myself. I need an archangel.”
“Let me guess.” Reaver’s hands clenched at his sides. “Raphael is holding it over your head.”
“I agreed to be his consort to save your life. But he didn’t specifically say I had to sleep with him.” She shoved to her feet and snatched up her clothes. “So he’s using the child as leverage. If I screw him, he’ll help me give Limos her baby back. I also have to help the archangels locate Lucifer. I’d have done that anyway, but Raphael felt the need to tack it onto our agreement.”
“That bastard.”
She wasn’t going to argue that. “I have to do it.” She reached out and took his hand. “I’ll do anything to keep you alive and give Limos the child she always wanted.”
“I know.” Reaver wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, holding her as if he were afraid to let go. “But I don’t want you to have to. Somehow I’ll fix this, Harvester.”
He couldn’t fix it. Even he had to know that. Raphael had proven he was willing to stop short of nothing to get what he wanted, and right now, what he wanted was Harvester.
She couldn’t put Reaver at risk again. He’d already given up his wings to rescue her. She wouldn’t see him give up his life as well.
So while she hoped there was a way out of this mess, she wasn’t going to count on it.
She used to believe in fate. She’d been sure that she and Yenrieth were soul mates. Now she wasn’t sure of anything.
Twenty-Nine
Reaver was still reeling with Harvester’s revelations as they dressed, his mind churning with a million different things.
“Do you have a place to stay?” Harvester asked.
“I got an apartment in New York when I was fallen the first time.” He shrugged. “Kept it when I got my wings back. You never know when you’re going to need to get away from prying eyes. Besides, do you know how hard it is to find a decent sized apartment with a view and parking in Manhattan? I’m never giving that sucker up.”
“Smart,” she mused. “So what now?”
“Now, I’m going to see Ares.”
“You have a lot to catch up on with your sons.”
Yes, but that wasn’t why he was going. “Can you give me a lift?”
Man, he hated asking for shit that, as an angel, was so simple, but in an instant, they were inside Ares and Cara’s Greek mansion. The two of them were half-clothed and rolling around on the floor.
“Ah…” Reaver cleared his throat.
Cara screamed and grabbed a throw from off the couch to cover up. A young hellhound rushed into the room, skidded across the floor, and crashed into a marble pedestal. The pedestal toppled, sending the two books on display tumbling onto the tiles. Ares cursed and stood, blocking his wife from view. At least he had on short
s.
“There’s a thing called a door,” he said flatly. “It comes complete with a doorbell, and it’s right behind you.”
Harvester snorted. “You know I don’t knock or ring doorbells. Also, I’m your new Watcher. Be nice.”
Ares bent to pick up the copy of the Daemonica that landed near his feet. “Switching teams hasn’t improved your temperament, obviously.”
“Obviously,” she drawled.
So getting her halo back hadn’t changed everything. Reaver kind of liked that, but he still drew her aside before the fur started flying. He carefully picked up the Bible off the floor and set it on the coffee table as Ares and Cara discreetly dressed.
“I’m going to ask Ares to—”
“The Bible.” Harvester grasped his wrist as if he hadn’t spoken. “I got it! Oh, damn, Reaver, I thought of a way out of this mess with Raphael.”
His heart kicked into high gear. “How?”
She bounced on her toes excitedly. “He can’t kill you. He lied about that.” At what must have been a perplexed expression on his face, she explained. “You’re the Horsemen’s father. Their father is supposed to break their Seals when it comes time for the biblical Apocalypse.”
He inhaled sharply. “You’re right. He wouldn’t dare kill me and interfere with such a history-altering prophecy that favors Heaven in the Final Battle.” Yes. He lowered his voice so Ares and Cara wouldn’t hear the rest. “He can’t force you to be his consort… at least, not with that threat. But there’s still the issue with Limos’s baby. He’s still got you over a barrel.”
“But only for sex.”
Only. There was no such thing as only sex. Not when it was Harvester with anyone but Reaver.
“You can’t let him know you’re aware that he can’t kill me, or he’ll use the baby as leverage to get both sex and your consent to a mating ceremony.”