She hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours now, having spent all her time learning about wards and ethereal energy. She felt so behind in her studies, but her mother assured her this was normal. Most Seraphim couldn’t truly begin their lessons until they found their wings.
You’re magnificent,Issac murmured into her mind.But it’s okay to rest a bit.
We don’t know when the Seraphim are going to attack. I need to be ready.
You won’t be ready if you’re exhausted, love,he whispered back to her, his nose running along the column of her neck to her ear. “Come to bed with me, Aya. I can send an image of you sleeping to Caro. She’ll understand.”
“Yeah, except immortals don’t have to sleep.” Her body absolutely disagreed with that statement. However, it should be true. Immortality meant she could survive without food or sleep. In theory, anyway.
“You’re right, love. We don’t. But it’s not sleeping that I actually have in mind. However, as I suspect your mother won’t appreciate the imagery of what I intend to do to you, I’ll send her a visual of you sleeping instead.”
His hands slid down her shoulders to her arms as he pulled her back to his chest.
“Come to bed with me, Aya,” he repeated, his hands finding her hips as he started walking them backward out of the living room. “I’ll take care of your every need, and you’ll feel so much better afterward. I promise.”
“Issac…”
“You’re taking a break,” he told her, a hint of steel underling his tone. Just enough for her to know that wasn’t a request but a demand. “Your parents took one. Gabriel took one. You have not. It’s time to listen to the soreness of your body and let me take care of you.”
“I took a break,” she argued half-heartedly. “I haven’t flown in a few hours.”
His lips brushed her pulse. “Not all exhaustion is of the body, Aya. Sometimes it’s of the mind, too.”
Hmm,she hummed, reading between the lines of his proclamation.
This wasn’t just for her but for him, too. Because he needed her for emotional support, something he wouldn’t admit out loud yet did with his statement. She wasn’t mentally exhausted, but Issac certainly was. He’d spent all afternoon and evening thinking about Mateo and what his confession implied.
His progeny had indirectly helped murder Issac’s equivalent of a father figure. Aidan wasn’t just his maker but also the one who had more or less adopted him as a young boy and essentially raised him as his own. He’d been in love with Issac’s mother, had created Amelia with her, and had been Issac’s true family.
While Mateo was his responsibility.
His progeny.
The one he’d made into an Ichorian.
And his actions had cost Issac his father’s life.
Issac was right.
She couldn’t continue training right now. Her soul mate needed her, and this was his subtle way of begging her to stay, under the guise of wanting to take care of her. Because that would help him feel better.
And honestly, it would help her feel better, too.
She turned in his arms, and he pushed her up against the hallway wall, his sapphire gaze burning with quiet passion. “Astasiya—”
“Kiss me, Issac,” she demanded, compulsion emboldening her words.
His irises darkened to a shade of midnight blue, telling her it was the right thing to say and exactly what he needed. Her lips tingled with expectation, her tongue thrumming with heated intent.
Only, he didn’t kiss her on the mouth.
He went for her throat instead, his lips sealing around her pulse in an open-mouthed embrace that set her veins on fire.
You didn’t say where to kiss you, love, he whispered into her mind, his incisors pricking her flesh.
She gasped as he bit her deeply, his throat working as he pulled her essence into his mouth to swallow.
Euphoria hummed through her veins in response, stirring a fire deep within her that begged for more.
