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“Fuck.” Wrath lurched away from her and hauled himself out of the water.
His cock jutted thick and hard from between his legs.
Her desire for him awoke with a ravenous yell, but she forced herself to breathe deeply. “He has my loyalty.”
“Does he deserve it?” Wrath dressed himself in sharp, angry motions, yanking his clothing over his damp skin.
“Not always.” Ramiel could be capricious and spoiled at times, taking what he regarded as his due. “But his behavior is not a measure of mine. He has my loyalty like he has my love, and his worthiness of either is not the point.”
Wrath growled at her. “You’re a blind fool. He doesn’t love you back. He doesn’t even respect you.”
His words cut deep, but again she could only speak the truth as she saw it. “But he is fond of me, and it is my feelings we are speaking of, not his.”
“Your feelings.” Wrath scoffed and gathered their possessions. “The same feelings that desire me?”
“Yes.” She moved to the edge of the pool.
He held out his hand to help her.
When she didn’t move, he made a rough sound of impatience and took her by the elbow. His grip was firm but gentle as he steadied her.
“Your feelings seem to contradict each other.” He rifled through her pack and produced dry clothing for her.
Haziel didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry. He was right. There was a storm happening inside her. She loved Ramiel, and she desired Wrath, and neither of those were hers to act on. The sound that escaped her was a mixture of tears and laughter. “Isn’t that often the way with feelings?”
Wrath dropped his head, and when he looked up, he wore a wry smile. “Unfortunately, yes.”
“Do you not love another?” She accepted his help in wrestling off her wet shirt and trousers.
His voice deepened as his gaze traced her body clothed only in underwear. “Love?” He tugged a dry shirt over her head and eased her arms through the sleeves. “I really don’t know how to answer that, but I will return your honesty with mine. I have believed myself to love Rosabella for a while now, but I’m not sure I can still freely give my love to a woman who abandoned our child as Rosabella did.”
His answer pleased her too much, plus her brief encounter with Rosabella had done nothing to endear her to Haziel. It hurt her to ask the next question, but she had to know. “But she broke your heart?”
“She did.” Wrath nudged her leg to get her to step into her trousers. His hands on her skin made her shiver, but despite the heat in his eyes, he kept his touch impersonal like a nursemaid helping his charge. “I wanted her, but she didn’t want me.” He bent and eased her feet into her boots. “Much like you.”
She didn’t want to be compared to Rosabella. “But I do want you,” she said as he tied her laces. “Only I won’t act on that want.”
When he looked up, the signature Wrath arrogance bathed his beautiful face. “Want to place a wager on that?”
And Haziel gave him the only answer she could. “Most definitely not.”
Chapter Nineteen
The closer they drew to Shade’s palace, the stronger the effect of the lust seal became. Haziel wiped her brow with the back of her hand. They’d been walking for most of the day. Neatly tucked away, her wing continued to heal but she wasn’t ready to fly with it yet.
As the lust seal made itself more prevalent, she found herself watching Wrath near obsessively. The flex and bunch of his powerful thigh muscles as he strode forward, that near perfect ass, the bulging muscles on his arms and back. Other things about him also played havoc with her already unsteady resolve. The way he would constantly check back to see if she was doing okay. He seemed to know without asking when she was tired and instead of making a fuss about it, would merely stop and unpack provisions for both of them.
His eyes were the purest form of blue she had ever encountered. The blue of a summer sky or blooming forget-me-nots, and he always met her gaze directly. She felt seen in a way that made her want to preen under his steady regard. She could cut steel on the firm, uncompromising line of his jaw. The plush perfection of his mouth made her forget what he was saying at times and stare at the shape of his lips, imagining what they would feel like pressed against hers, crave to feel his tongue against hers and draw his taste inside her.
“There.” Wrath held aside the sticky fronds of a creeper for her to pass.
Shade’s palace slumbered like a sleek goddess in the waning evening light. Pink from the sun stroked lovingly over the smooth arches and pleasing sweeps of creamy stone.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, momentarily dragged from her fascination with Wrath.
“That she is.” Wrath winked at her and strode toward the palace.
The effect of the seal waxed and waned, and gave her moments of reprieve. Which she spent watching Wrath as well. The sooner she got back to Ramiel and his calm, soothing presence, the sooner she could put her fascination with this hell prince aside.
