Page 10 of Enchanted

Relief washed through me. My powers had never failed me before, but I’d never needed them to work as badly as I did in this moment.

There was no point in prayer. God rarely granted miracles to humans on the brink of death. And if she did?

I was the angel she’d send.

Beneath my hands, I felt my mate’s back straighten. His breathing steadied as his pulse strengthened. The dripping blood slowed and then stopped completely.

I continued pushing my power through him. He might be healed, but I didn’t want so much as a scratch marring his beautiful skin when he awoke.

And fuck, was he beautiful.

Not wanting him to wake on the hard concrete, I gently eased him into my arms. With his vital signs returning to normal, I allowed myself to take him in properly. He was tall and slender, with a build like a runner. Nowhere near my height, but almost no one was. My stomach churned as I eyed his hair more closely. When not matted with blood, I suspected it was delightfully curly.

His full lips parted on a low moan as his long eyelashes flickered against his cheeks. I finally allowed my power to return to me, and exhaustion unlike anything I’d experienced before came with it. I paid it no heed. I didn’t even know this man’s name, but I knew he was mine.

It was enough to have me ready to sacrifice everything.

Colour returned to his cheeks as he continued to stir. He blinked once. Twice.

And I found myself sinking into captivating pools of green.

“Hello,” he said, a little breathlessly. God, his voice sounded like music. I wanted to hear more of it. All the time. “Wow. You’re really hot.”

I laughed, even as my chest puffed up at the compliment. “Thank you.”

“Oh fuck.” He clapped a hand to his face, eyes wide in horror. “Did I say that out loud?”

“You did.” I was still grinning. “But feel free to stay on the same topic. I’m happy to return all and any compliments given.”

I was almost giddy. This man was my mate. Mine.

His eyes darted to the bus, the colour his cheeks had regained leeching away again. “Shit. I’m dead, aren’t I?”

“Not today,” I said, keeping him in my arms. Or any day now that I’ve met you.

“I must be.” My mate’s gaze moved to linger on my spread wings. “You don’t look like the Grim Reaper. Definitely too hot to be him.”

I thought of Ferry and sighed. “Don’t believe everything you hear. I’ve met him and he’s unfairly attractive.”

My mate shook his head, looking a little punch-drunk. If I had to guess, I’d say he was in shock.

“He is?”

“Yep. But I like to think I’m hotter.”

He bit his lip as his gaze roved over my face. “I can see why.”

I chuckled. Every bit of the darkness that had been dogging me for the last few months had lifted now that my mate was safe in my arms. “I’m glad you think so.”

Suddenly, he bolted upright. “Shit, I am dead, aren’t I? You’re an angel. You must be, what with those…things.”

I smirked. “Wings?”

“That’s the word. Oh fuck, how can I die now? This isn’t fair.”

“You’re not dead,” I said again, but the words didn’t seem to register.

“This wasn’t the plan,” he said mournfully, staring at my wings again. “And how the fuck did I get into Heaven? Was there not a vetting process? I definitely wouldn’t have passed it if there was. Oh crap, who else is there? Please tell me I’m not going to be rubbing shoulders with my great-aunt Gertrude.”