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A jolt struck her dead in the chest, enough that she stumbled over her next few steps, pausing when she made it to the middle of the room. Over the last week, the pangs weren’t as frequent as they had been. Only when a memory really wanted to make itself known did she experience a shock like the one she just had.
Won’t you tell me your name?
How many times had he asked her that same question? Not recently, but in the before times… it was the one thing he had asked of her, and the only thing she had held back.
Suddenly, she was not so sure why she had. Oh, she remembered her reasoning from way back then, but it seemed so silly now.
“I came to talk to you,” she said, edging closer to his desk. A good ten feet still separated them, though there was no denying she felt the pull toward her angel. She always had.
Always would.
“And you can still call me Cinder if you want. It’s the name I plan on using now. But… Dawn.” She shuddered out a breath. “I’m Dawn.”
* * *
Micah’s breath caught in his throat.
She hadn’t just—
He must’ve misunderstood—
She couldn’t possibly—
Micah swallowed roughly. “What?”
“You used to ask me if I would ever tell you my name. It’s Dawn. Dawn Brooks. Dawn-Anne, really, but no one ever called me that.” She thought about it for a moment, then added, “No one’s called me Dawn in a long time, either, but you always wanted to know my name. My real name. It’s Dawn.”
Micah couldn’t speak. His words… they failed him the same way he could never figure out how to make any of his devices work around his celestial aura. He just shuddered out another breath before moving around his desk.
He never let loose his wings. As big as their office was, his wingspan was wide enough that he’d clip his feathers if he let his wings free. At that moment, though? He didn’t need them to fly over to his soulmate’s side.
She was waiting for him, and instead of rearing back, Cinder opened her arms up to him.
Micah swooped her up, holding her close.
She met the intensity of his stare boldly. Though she gulped, her voice was strong and clear as she said, “I can’t make up for the past. I wouldn’t even know where to begin. We lost so much time together, and when I think back to how stubborn I was, keeping something so small from you… we have our second chance, Micah. You told me we can start over. I… I want to.”
When Micah finally found the words, they came out as a harsh rasp. “I want that desperately.”
He didn’t call her by any name. Just then he wasn’t sure who she was—apart from his.
His witch could tell exactly what he was thinking.
“I’m not Phoenix anymore. I don’t know if I’ll ever be her again. My time in Hell… I’m lucky to be Cinder. But for you… just for you… when we’re alone together… I’d like to be your Dawn. If that’s okay.”
Micah gazed down at her. Was it okay? It was more than that, and it was time she learned how much he ached for her. He’d loved her for decades, mourned her memory, and struggled to believe that she was really there.
That she really wanted him.
She gave him her name. All at once, none of the past mattered. Micah wanted to start over—and he’d start with a kiss.
This wasn’t their first kiss. Of course not. Decades ago, he’d kissed her countless times before she was gone.
But this? This was different. This was a claiming kiss, one he couldn’t deny either of them. With one arm bracing her back, the other funneling through her long, dark hair, Micah slanted his mouth of hers.
Cinder—Dawn—clutched his shirt, pulling him to her, kissing him back with everything she had.
Micah never wanted to let her go. Breathing her air, tasting her mouth… he’d never been so content as he was with his mate wrapped up in his arms, her lips mingling with his.
