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"Really?"
"Indeed." He folded his arms across his chest, the muscles of his arms tensing in a way that drew my gaze. His arms were huge, bear-like. As if he could snap my spine if he wrapped his arms around me. I forced that thought away as my body heated at the very thought of being pulled against that broad chest.
"Seeing as you're new to our operations," he continued, his voice smooth but edged with steel, "I'll give you the benefit of the doubt this time." A smirk played at the corner of his lips, a fleeting glimpse of arrogance that made my blood simmer. "ButI don't appreciate your questioning my leadership, especially when we've barely started."
"You should know," I began, the words sharp as shards of glass, "I once led an army. Do not presume I'll follow your orders blindly."
The desert seemed to hold its breath, the air between us charged with an unseen energy. Alastor stiffened, but his expression was unreadable beneath the brim of his cap.
"Blindly?" His tone was edged with annoyance now. "As an angelic warrior, Sariel, that is all you've ever done. Following orders without question is your very nature."
His words struck a nerve, one that I had long since tried to bury beneath layers of duty and devotion. That flicker of doubt sparked inside me again, but I ignored it. I was in enough trouble already because of that flicker. If only he knew...
"I know my place and my duty, there is nothing wrong with that. And I respect my leaders and their orders, for good reason. I have no reason to respect you yet."
Alastor's eyes darkened. "Rudeness may have been tolerable where you come from, Sariel," he said, his voice low and controlled, a stark contrast to the rage I sensed coiling beneath his calm exterior. "But on earth, respect is earned, not granted by virtue of ancient titles or celestial lineage. I earned my position through hard work and experience, and the respect granted by others. I am worthy of that respect, and I do not undervalue it."
He stepped closer, the air between us crackling with tension. "I will not tolerate elitism in my team. I am your assigned team leader, and you will treat me and my position as team leader with respect. I shall treat you with the respect due a member of my team. If you find my leadership so objectionable, then perhaps this mission — and my team — isn't the right fit for you. You're free to leave."
There it was: the line drawn in the sand. His words, a clear warning that my celestial status held little currency here. It took every ounce of restraint to keep from arguing.
"Point taken," I managed to say. I needed to remember my place, not for his sake, but for the mission. For Gabriel. For redemption. "But you mistake my candour for insolence. I am here to see the mission through, and I will not quit."
"Good." Alastor's eyes lingered on me a moment longer, searching, perhaps, for a crack in my armour. He would not find any. "You may stay. But understand this: I lead this team. If you cannot—or will not—remember that, then I'll have you escorted back to London so fast, you'll scarcely have time to utter a prayer."
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. It was at times like this I envied humans their curse words. I had a choice few I would like to say to this man. Maybe when the mission was over and I had achieved my goal, I would tell him exactly what I thought of him. Until then, I would have to bite my tongue.
Chapter Eight
THEO
Squinting against the harsh, unyielding sunlight, I leaned casually against the side of a dust-covered SUV and watched Sariel's retreating figure. The way she moved, even over the uneven terrain, seemed graceful, and although she’d changed from her business attire from earlier, the cargo trousers only seemed to flatter her curves more, showing off that perfectly toned ass that had my dick twitching in my pants. Alastor flanked her left, his stride all business and purpose, while Lily chattered away on her right, a blur of pink enthusiasm in the dry air.
The trio diminished into tiny specks against the sprawling backdrop of arid desert and patches of greener irrigated farmland, and I immediately felt the loss of her presence. My wolf whined and pawed in my head, driving me to follow her, to not let her out of my sight. There had been reports of hellions in the local area, and maybe things even worse, and although I knew that as a soldier of Heaven, Sariel could more than look after herself, the urge to protect her was strong inside me.
A pang of something intense and undeniable twisted in my chest, as my wolf sensed it too — the incontrovertible truth that Sariel was meant for me. My fated mate.
The first time I'd caught her scent, an intoxicating blend of sensual jasmine, musk and something uniquely hers, her essence had whispered directly to my soul. Her beauty was undeniable, with those soulful dark eyes and hair like ebony silk, but it was more than that. It was the way she carried herself, quiet, but confident, and with the fluid movement of a powerful predator that my wolf could appreciate.
The realisation had hit me like the shockwaves of an earthquake as soon as she’d taken my hand – Sariel was my mate. Destined, fated, true, all those romantic notions people have, but none of the words could quite describe the connection between us. It was deep, primal, raw, and completely undeniable. The knowledge had seeped into my bones with a certainty that left no room for doubt, intertwining with my very essence. Her eyes connecting with mine, the touch of her skin, the sound of her heartbeat, quickening as she felt it too. For me, the world had tilted on its axis, every sense heightened to an almost unbearable degree, forever changed.
And yet, I wasn’t the only one with a claim on her. Alastor had said she was his mate as well. I knew it was a thing with wolves, but I had never realised hellhounds could have them too. Alastor’s own origins were dark and disturbing, and I had notdelved deeply into it. Maybe I had done him a disservice after all. I had thought I was sparing his feelings by not asking for more detail, but now I realised I had assumed all full blooded hellhounds were predisposed to violence. This discovery that they also had fated mates suddenly made me realise we might have a lot more in common than I’d originally thought.
But then again, maybe not. I mean, he’d realised Sariel was his mate… and then he’d dismissed the idea immediately. How on earth could he do that? I could understand him not wanting to hurt her, and yes I appreciated that in order to be with us, she’d have to fall from Heaven which was a big thing for angels, but surely finding your true mate was a big thing too? I’d seen wolves rejected by their mates, seen those who’d had theirs ripped away from them, and it wasn't a pretty sight. Many lost themselves in grief, and simply faded away. Maybe hellhounds could withstand that. I wasn’t sure I could.
A small twister of sand spiralled before me, mirroring the tumult within. To keep silent would be to deny her the choice, the freedom to follow her heart. Wasn't that what love was about? Letting go and letting be, even if it meant standing alone under the unforgiving sky.
The thought clenched my chest, a vise of uncertainty and longing. I couldn't bear the idea of living a life where every sunrise didn’t include her smile or every full moon didn’t see our shadows entwined. The pain of potential rejection was a spectre looming just beyond the horizon, yet the yearning for a mate, for her, surged stronger than any fear.
"God, I've wanted this for so long," I muttered.
As I pushed myself off the SUV, my mind whirled with conflicting thoughts and emotions. How could Alastor disregard the mate bond so easily? It was a connection so rare and profound that it defined a shifter's very existence. To deny it was to deny a fundamental part of oneself, and that wentagainst every instinct ingrained in me. Every fibre of my being screamed that Sariel belonged with me. The magnetic pull between us was undeniable, a force of nature that defied logic and reason. I had only met the woman once, but I couldn’t get her out of my thoughts. I wanted to be near her, to look at her, and my body craved her touch fiercely. As I looked to the horizon where her silhouette had disappeared minutes before, a fierce determination settled within me. I refused to let Alastor's decision stand in the way of what was meant to be. I would fight for her, for us.
I needed to get to know her, and to let her get to know me. I wanted to know everything about her, how her mind worked, what she loved to eat, to read, what music she listened to, I wanted to know it all. I wanted to show her how good it could be, and I'd treat her so damn good, she wouldn’t be able to deny what was between us, and if Alastor didn’t want to fight for her too, well, that was his decision.
With resolve fortifying each step, I strode towards the edges of the camp. As I neared the perimeter, I spotted Mario leaning against a weathered jeep, his gaze scanning the horizon. Frankie was crouched beside him, checking over a map that fluttered in the breeze. They were my betas, my right-hand men, and in many ways, the closest thing to a family I had out here.
"Hey," I called out, my voice carrying easily in the still air.
