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As we reached my tent, Andy handed me my bag and patted me on the shoulder. "Take some time to settle in, Sariel. We'll reconvene later and discuss the plan of action with Mr. Hawke."
I nodded, trying to shake off the lingering effects of the encounter with Alastor. "Thank you, Andy. I'll see you soon."
Once inside the tent, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, attempting to regain my focus. I couldn't afford any distractions. I needed to remain focused on my mission. Successfully integrating myself into this team would lead to me leading my own team, and once Gabriel saw I was still determined to servehim and Heaven, I would be returned to my rightful place at his right hand.
Nothing else mattered.
I unpacked my belongings methodically, organising everything in its rightful place within the small living space, however as I carefully placed each item, my mind kept drifting back to Alastor Hawke and the strange connection we had shared. It was unsettling, to say the least. The power and intensity of his presence lingered in the air, refusing to be ignored.
Lost in my thoughts, I almost didn't realise when the tent flap lifted and another woman walked in, carrying a large black rucksack of her own. She dumped it unceremoniously on the second cot then turned to survey me, a grin spreading across her face.
"So, you're the new girl? Aren't you a little overdressed for the desert?" She raised perfectly groomed dark eyebrows at my suit.
"Climate is no excuse to be improperly attired," I answered, irritation sparking a little as I realised, she was making fun of me. I pointedly looked down at her own outfit which consisted of cargo shorts that barely covered her underwear, and a white tank top which made it very clear that she was wearing a bra. The loose cotton scarf around her neck did cover her cleavage, but other than that, she looked like she was on her way to a nightclub or something. At least, that was the kind of thing I assumed human women wore to nightclubs. I'd never actually been to one.
She glanced down, bright pink curls falling over her face. "Is this improper? I brought a scarf to cover up. Alastor said I had to cover up, but it's so hot here. My body already runs at a higher temperature than most people."
Purple eyes reconnected with mine, and I realised that this girl wasn't human at all. She was a succubus. I wasn't sure how I feltabout sharing a tent with a demon that required constant sexual relations to live.
"Um, I'm sure it's fine," I said hastily, turning back and straightening the blanket on my bed.
I could feel her gaze burning into me. The succubus seemed to find great amusement in my discomfort, her grin widening as she leaned against the nearby cot.
"You're Sariel, right?" she asked. "The angel sent down to work with us poor mortals?"
I turned to face her, plastering a polite smile on my face. "Yes, that's correct. My name is Sariel."
"I'm Lily," she said, holding out a hand. Each nail was painted a different neon colour. I took it reluctantly, bracing myself for another hit of demonic energy, but this time there was nothing except the warmth of her skin. She laughed and frowned, pulling my hand back.
"Something funny?" I asked, unable to resist the urge to quell my growing unease.
The succubus grinned, revealing a row of pearly white teeth. "Oh, it's just that you angels are always so prim and proper. It's refreshing to see one of you outside of your element."
I crossed my arms, feeling defensive. "I assure you, I am perfectly capable of adapting to any situation."
She chuckled again, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "We shall see about that."
Before I could respond, a voice boomed from outside the tent. "Ladies, are we ready?"
It was Alastor Hawke. The sudden sound of his voice nearby sent a thrill through me, and Lily sent me a curious glance before rolling her eyes. "Back to work. Never mind, we'll hopefully get a chance to chill out and get to know each other later. Come on, Sariel, let's go."
She grabbed my hand and dragged me through the tent flap into the oppressive heat outside before I could protest.
Chapter Five
ALASTOR
It seemed to take an eternity to get everyone situated in their living quarters, and when I finally got to my own tent, I dropped my bag onto the floor and sank heavily onto the side of the cot, dropping my face into my hands as I groaned. Why was this happening? How could this be happening? My hand still burned from her touch; the connection that had instantly zapped through my veins still raged throughout my entire body. My heart was racing, and my chest felt so tight, it almost hurt.
My hound drove himself again and again at the cage of my mind, wanting me to shift. We had a good relationship, sharing our bodies easily and freely, and he never usually tried to forcea shift, but he couldn't help himself. The primal urge that had swept through both of us was overwhelming to him, and he was lost to it. The human side of me was the only thing keeping him in check, and with my own needs and desires rushing to the surface, my control was tentative to say the least. The ends of my fingers prickled, claws threatening to burst through, and other parts of my anatomy were reacting in a way that had me excusing myself from the unloading of the equipment as quickly as possible so that no one spotted it.
I took a deep breath, trying to regain control over my body and my hound, but as I closed my eyes and focused on slowing down my racing heart, her face flashed before my mind's eye. Soft dark hair was like a river of silk, sweeping back in a sleek twist at the back of her head. Not a single strand was out of place, and the neatness of it spoke of her attention to detail and perfectionism. Smooth, pale skin that was going to suffer under the beating sun if she wasn't careful, and high cheekbones tapering down to a heart shaped face. Wide, dark eyes that drew you in, the depth of them the only thing that revealed her true age. Curved full lips, that would give a devastating smile, if she ever did. She may be an angel, but dammit, that mouth was made for sin. I could already picture those lips wrapped around my cock. Her beauty was both innocent and alluring, a combination that was like fuel to the flame that had already fired up inside me.
Dressed as though she was attending a business meeting in a high rise rather than a dig in the desert, her silk blouse had dipped down between her breasts in a way that drew the eye but revealed barely anything. Damp from perspiration, it already clung to her in ways that had made my cock stiffen. Her trousers nipped in her tiny waist and flared out over her hips, and over the most delectable ass I had ever seen. Every curve of her body was a work of art. She'd turned to walk away with the archaeologist, and my eyes had dropped to her curves, my houndthrowing images into my head of her on her hands and knees, my hand trailing down her spine, the other tightening on her hip as I pushed myself deep inside her.
Fuck, this wasn't helping. I needed a goddamned cold shower, but I knew there was no chance of that. I needed to go out, call in the team, get them introduced to her, and do it without my body acting like some kind of teenage boy with a crush. Easier said than done.
As I stood up, my heart still racing, I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself. I needed to focus, to get my thoughts in order. The urge to shift was overwhelming, but I managed to force him down, with no little effort.
