One Enchanted Season

by C. L. Wilson

  Not certain what else to do, she turned the heat up in the room and piled warm blankets on him, trying to bring his temperature back up. When that didn’t work, she crawled under the blankets with him and wrapped her body around his.

  “Please, wake up, Micah. Please.” She stroked his chest, his hair, his face. She held his hand against her face and kissed the pulse in his throat, willing him to be well, praying with a fervency and faith she’d thought she’d lost long ago.

  Finally, sometime after midnight, the arm that had been lying limp across her waist flexed. Micah’s wings fluttered, and the top one opened to its full length, spilling the heavy blankets onto their entwined bodies before folding protectively around Kat.

  Micah’s lashes lifted, and at the first glimpse of those beautiful turquoise eyes, Kat threw her arms around his neck, pressing her face to the rapidly warming skin of his throat.

  “Oh, thank God!” Her lips moved against his pulse. Her vision went blurry. She blinked furiously to clear it, but the faster she blinked the mistier her vision became, until the tears she’d sworn never to shed again spilled freely down her cheeks, making a small, salty puddle in the hollow of his throat. She pulled back to glare at him through her tears. “You scared me to death. Don’t ever do that again!”

  He lifted a hand and thumbed away the tear trembling just below her left eye, then stared at the bead of moisture as if he’d never seen such a thing. “You would weep for me, Katrina Bentsen?”

  “I thought you were dying,” she said defensively. Realizing she was still clinging to him, she muttered a curse and pushed away, clambering to her feet to put some distance between them. “What happened? Why did you collapse like that?”

  He dragged his gaze away from the tear on his thumb to regard her with an indecipherable expression. “Isabella’s illness was severe. Healing her took a little more energy than I anticipated.”

  “A little?” she exclaimed. “You were barely breathing. I couldn’t feel a pulse! You’ve been unconscious for hours!”

  He winced and rose from the floor. “I apologize for alarming you.” He shook his wings out, but instead of making them disappear he usually did, he simply folded them neatly against his back and started for the kitchen. “It’s very late. Would you like some hot chocolate before you go to bed?”

  She gaped. “That’s it? I tell you that you nearly died and you offer to make hot chocolate?”

  “Technically, Guardians can’t die,” he replied mildly. “They can only be extinguished.” He pulled a saucepan from the drawers beside the stove and set it on one of the burners. “Do you want marshmallows with your hot chocolate?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t want any hot chocolate. What I want is for you to explain exactly what just happened.” In the few short days of their acquaintance, she had come to know the angel. And she’d come to recognize that he liked to distract her when she asked questions he didn’t want to answer. “Is it normal for healing someone to nearly extinguish you?”

  “I told you, Isabella was much more gravely ill than I anticipated. The healing required more energy than I thought it would.” He took a gallon of milk out of the fridge and poured a pint or so into the saucepan.

  He’d dodged her question again. That could only mean one thing.

  She asked him a question he couldn’t dodge. “Micah, are you still connected to Ramiel’s power?”

  His lashes dropped, shuttering his eyes. He busied himself with stirring cocoa into the warming milk.

  “Micah?” She swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry as a bone. “Micah, what did you do?”

  “I did what I had to!” He spun around to face her. He gripped the countertop with white-knuckled fingers. His gaze pinned hers, the calm turquoise waters now raging, storm tossed seas. “You needed me. I couldn’t stand by again and watch you get hurt when I finally had the power to stop it.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “That first night—those men who attacked you—I read their thoughts as easily as I read yours. I knew what they were going to do. I couldn’t let it happen again. Never again. Not to you. No matter what the cost.”

  She sank down onto the barstool. Her whole body felt numb. Her thoughts were wild, fragmented and scattered. He had broken his bond with the archangel to save her? He’d sacrificed his immortal soul for her?

  “There is nothing I wouldn’t sacrifice to keep you safe,” he said. His voice shook, filled with conviction and something so raw it made her shiver. “When you were handed over to your grandparents, when they did what they did to you…you don’t know how many times I nearly broke with Ramiel and came to you. But I was still too newly made, too weak, and I knew what had happened to your father after he lost his Guardian. Had I come to you then, I would have extinguished long before you were ready to sing to the Seal and that would have left you vulnerable to the Darkseekers. I would have failed you, just as your father’s Guardian failed him. So I waited, while you suffered, and I promised myself that when I was older, when I was stronger, when I could break my ties to Ramiel without endangering you, that I would never stand by and watch you be hurt again.”

  He straightened and released his grip on the counter. “I was careful not to use all of Ramiel’s power to heal Isabella. I made sure I would have enough to see you through the strengthening of the Seal. That much I can provide.” His expression hardened with determination. “I will provide.”

  “And after that?”

  He clung to silence for another long moment. Then, in a low voice that shivered down her spine, “And after that, you will be safe from the Darkseekers for the rest of your life. And I will leave, as I promised you I would.”

  Kat bit her lip, then blurted, “What if I don’t want that anymore? You leaving, I mean. What if I wanted you to stay?”

  The angel smiled sadly. “I’m afraid that’s not an option, dulcea mea.” He turned back to the stove and poured the fragrant hot chocolate into two cups, adding exactly five mini marshmallows to each. He handed her one of the mugs. “Here. Drink this. It always helps you relax and get to sleep. You should be rested when you sing the Seal.”

  ###

  Two hours later, that cup of hot chocolate had yet to work its usual restorative magic. Kat lay in her bed, wide awake, staring out her bedroom window at the stars sparkling in the clear night sky, her thoughts in turmoil, dread curling in the pit of her belly.

  Micah had become so important to her in so little time. She hadn’t realized just how important until tonight, when she’d spent hours praying frantically over his cold, motionless body. She’d spent a lifetime alone, and made her peace with that. She’d found a way to function in the world and to enjoy a measure of happiness. But not since her parents had anyone gotten as close to Kat as Micah—not even Maya and the girls. In two short days, the angel had become a fixture in her life. One she couldn’t imagine living without.

  And after he helped her close the most painful chapter of her life and complete her duty as Lightkeeper, he would exit her life forever. Though he hadn’t said it in so many words, she suspected just what form that exit would take.

  All his beauty, his kindness, the wondrous healing power of his soul, would extinguish. Everything that was Micah would be no more.

  The mere thought of it opened a jagged, aching hole in her heart.

  She flung the covers back and rose from her bed. She didn’t bother turning on a light. She knew every inch of her small apartment, could walk it blindfolded. She opened her bedroom door and slipped into the living room, her feet moving soundlessly on the carpeted floor.

  Micah was still awake, sitting on her ottoman by the window, bare-chested and bathed in moonlight. His wings gleamed in the darkness, their whiteness practically glowing.

  He didn’t move as she approached him, not even when she laid a hand upon the warmth of his bare shoulder.

  “What do you need, Katrina?” His voice was low, the deep tones weary.

  He c
ould have plucked the answer from her brain. She didn’t know why he didn’t. Maybe because he didn’t think she’d have the nerve to say it aloud. Any other time of her life, he would have been right, but not tonight.

  “You. I need you.” Her lips trembled. Her heart pounded in her chest. “I always have.”

  He turned to face her, golden hair sliding over his shoulders. She stared into eyes that had darkened with intense emotion, a storm on the sea’s horizon. In silence, the question—the invitation—lay between them.

  She took a breath and made her choice, lunging to take his lips before a lifetime of conditioned fear could make her change her mind. It was the first time since the sweet goodnight kisses of her early childhood that she’d ever kissed anyone. She wasn’t very good at it. She mashed her nose against his cheekbone and their teeth knocked together hard enough that she would probably have a fat lip in the morning.

  Embarrassed, she started to pull back, when Micah caught her face between his hands and surged to his feet, kissing her like the next beat of his heart depended on it. His wasn’t an awkward, untutored mashing of lips. It wasn’t a sweet, tentative, gentle kiss either. Instead, he slanted his head to one side and took her lips in hard, open-mouthed claiming that sent heat spearing through her body. His lips parted hers, his tongue swept into her mouth, and his arms yanked her tight against naked chest.

  After the first few stunned moments, Kat groaned into his mouth and her arms slid up around his back, nails digging into his shoulders. He tasted so good. Hot and salty-sweet, addictive, delicious.

  He backed her against the side of her couch, his body hard and hot. She found herself arching against him, her legs spread to cradle him against her pelvis. She, the woman who freaked out at the slightest touch, reveled in the weight of the angel’s body pressed against hers. It felt good, right, like two halves of a whole clicking smoothly into place. As if she’d rejected all those touches her whole life not because of the horror inflicted upon her, but because, on some deep, subconscious level, she’d realized there was only one person whose touch she craved—his.

  With Micah, she wanted more. She wanted everything he had to give her.

  He groaned and licked the seam of her mouth, biting softly on her full, lower lip. “Whatever you want of me, you have only to reach out your hand, and it is yours.”

  She stared up into his face, the tumble of golden hair, his brilliant eyes, now hazy with desire. She didn’t consider herself a particularly tiny woman, but next to Micah, she felt small and delicate. Everything about him seemed larger than life, his height, his beauty, the warmth that enveloped her whenever he was near.

  With trembling fingers, she laid her palms against the silky heat of his bare chest. His skin was so soft, like a baby’s, but laced with layers of steel just below the surface, the muscles hard and defined. She ran her hands over his chest, paused over the point of a hardened male nipple. She watched his lashes flutter, his breath catch, and brushed it again with a shy smile of pleasure. She stood on her toes to kiss him as she guided his hands to the buttons of her pajama top.

  Blue fire flared in his eyes as he bared her breasts. “You are so beautiful.” His hands closed around her, his touch delicate, wondering, almost reverent. He cupped her flesh. His thumbs passed over her nipples, and they went tight and pointed, pebbling beneath the pads of his fingers.

  She arched into his hands, and watched him beneath half-lowered lids. There was no mistaking the intensity of his ardor. Against her skin, his hands were trembling. His lungs expanded, exhaling warm breath that smelled of sandalwood, her new favorite scent. He pinched her nipples lightly. She groaned and arched again, thrusting her breasts towards him in a silent plea. She wanted his mouth on her. Instead, with a shudder, he released her breasts and slid his hands down her sides to her waist.

  He tucked his fingers into the waistband of her pajama bottoms and drew them down over her hips and legs, taking her serviceable cotton panties with them. She stepped out of the puddle of fabric, kicked it to one side, and then stood before him, naked. She was trembling, but with desire. There was no room in her heart for the shame she’d been raised to feel about her naked body or the feelings that were consuming her now.

  The look on Micah’s face made it impossible to feel anything but pride—pride that she could fill him with such yearning—and a powerful desire of her own. “Woman, thy form pleases me greatly.”

  “I’m glad,” she murmured, “but I’d rather not be the only one not wearing any clothes.”

  He yanked off his jeans and threw them aside, leaving behind a fully naked, fully aroused angel. His hands reached out to grip her hips and draw her closer.

  “You are beautiful, Katrina Bentsen.”

  Now, at last, he took her breast into his mouth, kissed first one, then the other. She grabbed his head, clutching fists of silky gold hair, and threw back her head on a gasp of pleasure. Dear God, that felt so good! He suckled her breast, the draw of his mouth, the alternating scrape of his teeth and hot lave of his tongue eliciting feelings like nothing she’d ever known. Her legs started trembling and her hips rocked against him in an unconscious rhythm.

  He rose up suddenly, surging to his full height so quickly she gasped and would have fallen back over the edge of the couch except for the arms the wrapped firmly around her, pressing the full length of her naked body against his. His wings unfurled, snapping out to their wide, impressive span before folding forward, cocooning her in silken white warmth as he bent to take her mouth with fierce hunger.

  “Micah.” Her arms slid round his back, feeling the ropes of bunched muscles, all trembling, following silken skin around to the base of his wings. She’d never held a bird, never stroked its feathers, but she stroked his now, and his head flung back on a gasp that made her freeze in sudden concern.

  “Sorry. I’m sorry. Did that hurt?” She had no idea how sensitive an angel’s wings might be. But already he was shaking his head, golden hair brushing across his shoulders.

  “No, it doesn’t hurt. Far from it.” His eyes burned with blue fire. His face was flushed, color high in his cheeks. “Touch me there again.”

  She did, and he gave a rattling groan, then buried his face in her neck and gave a choked laugh. “On second thought, better not do that again. You’ll end me before we begin.”

  It was Katrina’s turn to flush. The hard length of his erection pressed against her belly, throbbing with heat, leaving her in no doubt of his meaning.

  “I wouldn’t want to do that,” she whispered, blushing more. She’d been raised to equate sex with shame and degradation. Her parents had never shied away from being affectionate in front of her—with lots of kissing, hugging, and hand-holding—but those happy memories had been scrubbed harshly away, replaced with thoughts of sin and harlotry.

  “Nonsense,” Micah said, reading her thoughts with ease. “This is beautiful. You are beautiful.” He smoothed a hand over her pale hair. The ends brushed the tips of her breasts, and she could feel the pleasure radiating from him as plainly as his heat. He cupped her breast, taking the weight in his palm, and with a curious intentness of expression, teased one nipple with a lock of her own hair. Her nipple leapt to attention, and his white teeth flashed in a smile.

  “You are a wondrous creature. Marvelous to behold.” His pleasure, his appreciation and wonder, banished all thought of sin and ugliness. How could this be wrong when it felt so right? When it felt as though this moment—for this angelic being—was the reason she’d been created? Her hands ached to touch him, and she let them roam, palms sliding across smooth skin, taut muscle, fingers lightly stroking the soft whiteness of his wings just to watch him shudder and his eyes catch fire.

  “I want to join my body with yours.” He spoke the words against her skin as he tongued her breast. One of his hands had found its way to the spot between her legs, and his fingers were doing wonderful, intoxicating things that made her shiver and her feminine folds grow slick and throb with mo
ist heat.

  “I want that too.” Dear God, how she wanted that. Never had she dreamed she ever would, but now, the need was curling like a spring inside her, drawing tighter and tighter, until she thought she would explode.

  He lifted her in his arms and carried her into her bedroom, laid her down upon the soft sheets. When he released her, she clung to his arms in protest, not wanting to be parted even for an instant. Almost as if she feared that if she let him go, he would disappear, and all this would end up being nothing more than the dream of a lonely woman who’d never known true happiness or desire.

  “I’m not leaving. God himself could not call me from you now.” And somehow, when the angel said it, the claim sounded neither blasphemous not hyperbolic.

  She gulped. To be loved like that, wanted like that. It was heady stuff.

  “It is to me as well.”

  “You do so enjoy reading my mind.”

  He smiled, his eyes heavy lidded and smoldering with promise. “I promise, before this night is done, you will come to enjoy it too, dulcea mea.”

  He rose up on all fours over her, and proceeded to prove his point in the most exquisitely tormenting way possible. Kat had never known what pleasure was, had never known her body was capable of feeling the things Micah made her feel, as hands, lips, tongue, wings, stroked across her flesh. Her body caught fire, wept moisture and heat. She sobbed and arched and writhed beneath his touch.

  “Micah—angel—please!” The ache inside her was hot, throbbing, painful.

  ###

  Micah breathed in the scent of her skin, sweet, warm, intoxicating. He could not get enough of her. He had never experienced feelings like this.

  Love, yes. He’d loved her since the moment of her birth. Compassion, always. Especially during those long, hard years after her parents’ death. Sending her the sea to help her through the hurt and shame inflicted upon her was the only reason he had not broken with Ramiel sooner. In a way, he was grateful for that. He would have been too weak to help her, too weak to protect her, just as her father’s Guardian had been.