18. Nox

18

Nox

M icah didn't respond, his back trembling under my fingers. I tried to trace one of the marks all the way down, but it was impossible. There were too many others intersecting it. His whole back was a crosshatch of scars, some of which looked recently healed.

Micah clearly wasn't going to answer me, so I tried a different question. "Why haven't they healed? I've never seen a scar on a supe before."

"Cursed ointment," he said bitterly. "It's taken weeks to get to this point."

Weeks. I had to imagine that the first few days after these injuries would've been torture for him. Given that he'd seemed okay after the battle in Hell, I was going to assume it'd happened after that.

Or, maybe because of that?

"Is this a punishment?" I whispered in disbelief. Surely, Heaven wasn't capable of this level of cruelty. "Did they do this because you took the Seraphim into Hell?"

"It doesn't matter why it happened," he said sharply, his shoulders rising and falling rapidly. "It's none of your business."

That was what he thought. But someone hurting Micah was very much my fucking business. "I'll take that as a yes then."

He flinched as my exploration touched a spot near his shoulder.

"Are we done here?"

My fingers curled in instinctively. Shit. Had I been hurting him? "Does it hurt still?"

He shrugged. "A little, but nothing like it did before. I think the ointment is finally wearing off."

The memory of me fucking him on the table flashed through my mind. "Oh Satan. That day on the roof, did I hurt you?"

"No. I was fine."

I didn't buy that for a second. All this time, I'd wondered why Micah had refused to undress around me. I'd thought maybe it was too intimate a step for what we were.

Satan, how I wished that were the case. I'd suspected my little angel was hiding something from me. That he was taking on too much in his role and not being honest about the weight he was carrying.

But I'd never suspected this. That someone was repeatedly flaying the flesh from his bones before making sure he wouldn't heal fast or cleanly.

It made me want to burn down the world out of spite. How dare everyone go about their lives as normal when someone as good as Micah was suffering? How could an institution that claimed their foundation was based on kindness and compassion be so callous? It was even worse when you considered that Micah was the one being punished. He was the most powerful arch in millennia, the leader of God's most loyal soldiers.

But he was being punished the same way a human sinner in Hell would be.

"You need to let me leave," Micah said quietly, facing the wall. This whole time, he hadn't looked back at me once.

"Not until you tell me who did this." Frustration bubbled through me. "Not until you look at me, Micah."

He turned at that, his nostrils flared, fury flashing in his eyes. "Are you happy now, Nox? You know my dirty little secret. My shame. You can walk out of here knowing I'm a failure. That I'm not worthy of someone as perfect as you."

My mind was spinning as I gaped at Micah. Where the fuck did I even start with that? He opened his mouth to no doubt spill more self-hatred, but I'd heard enough.

My hand went over his mouth, holding firm as I glowered at him. "Abso-fucking-lutely not. What the fuck are you talking about? You have nothing to be ashamed of."

The way his eyes narrowed told me how little he believed that, but I barrelled on regardless.

"I refuse to believe you did anything to warrant this level of punishment. And trust me, I'd know. I'm a demon, Micah. My job was doling out tortures to those who deserved it. You didn't deserve this. There's no justification for this."

He tried to speak but my hand muffled the sound.

"No," I repeated softly. "You didn't deserve this. You're good, Micah. I mocked you for it before, but now I know how true it is, I regret everything I said. You're the purest soul I've ever met. Everything you do is to make those around you happy. Even tonight, you held back from what you truly wanted to say, because you wanted me to be happy."

He blinked, silver lining his eyes.

"What's been done to you is horrific. As for not being worthy of me?" I choked on the final word. It took me a breath to be able to say the rest. "That's bollocks. I could live the most saintly existence for a thousand years, and still not deserve an hour of your time. You're the best man I've ever met, Micah, and it has nothing to do with you being an angel."

With the hand not on his mouth, I tapped on his chest. "It's what's in here that elevates you out of my league. You're worthy of all the love in the world, and I pray that someday you'll find it."

A tear slid free from one of his eyes. I removed my hand to give him a chance to speak. When he did, he said the last thing I was expecting. "But not with you?"

Our shot at happiness had been slim before, but with this new knowledge, it was non-existent. "No, little angel. If this is what they did to you for simply assisting demons, what would they do to you for mating with one?"

He didn't reply, but he didn't need to.

We both knew the answer.

"Does your unit know?"

He shook his head. "No. I wouldn't burden them with this."

"So you carry the burden alone?"

When his bleak gaze met mine, my heart cracked in two. "It's what I've always done, Nox. I'm used to it."

Well, he wouldn't need to continue being used to it. I might not be able to be with him, but I could help him. A plan started to form in my mind. Something reckless. Dangerous .

Something that would definitely end with my execution.

That thought didn't bother me. I'd spent millennia trying to get topside to figure out what the pull was. All along, it had been Micah. If the universe was going to conspire to keep us apart, then I'd ensure Micah's safety and well-being first.

I was going to track down whoever had hurt my angel and make him pay in the most brutal of ways. It wouldn't fix the problem, but hopefully it would send a message to Heaven. A reminder that they weren't above the justice of Hell. That their actions didn't go unseen by all.

Perhaps then they'd value Micah for the treasure he was.

If it ended with my execution, then it'd be worth it if it meant Micah had a better life as a result. With me out of the picture, the pull would fade for him. Perhaps he'd find someone to love. Someone good, who was worthy of him.

"If you won't tell the Seraphim, at least tell me. Who did this?"

He gave a humourless laugh, shoving a hand through his hair. "What's the point? You can't do anything about it, Nox. That's not how it works upstairs. We aren't demons. We can't go around executing anyone who's upset us."

Micah was right—he wasn't a demon. But I was.

And you could fucking bet I was going to execute the cunt who'd hurt him.

There was little point in telling Micah that. He'd only try to stop me somehow, and the last thing I wanted was him getting dragged into this. It wasn't between him and the other person anymore.

It was between me and the fucker who'd hurt my mate.

Micah wasn't going to tell me who he was, but that was okay. I'd find out another way. Perhaps it was better if he didn't; there was less chance of it leading back to him.

This was it though. We wouldn't have until dawn. I couldn't take him to bed now, not knowing what I did.

I had to fix this. I wouldn't be able to rest until I had.

Then, I'd have nothing to do but rest.

And I was perfectly fine with that.

What I wasn't fine about was walking out of the door and leaving Micah behind. My chest ached with the need to hold him close. My throat burned with the desire to confess my love for him. My hands begged to pray for a different future—one we could spend together.

But, like I said, no one listened to the prayers of demons.

I held all of that back, not wanting to cause Micah any further pain. I had to be strong for him. For us. I wouldn't be able to walk away unscathed, but there was a chance for Micah.

I wasn't about to jeopardise that.

My hands shook as I cupped Micah's face and kissed him softly. "Thank you, little angel. These past few weeks have meant everything to me."

"I thought demons never said thank you."

They don't fall in love either. "You're worth breaking the rules for."

Micah wavered, his teeth sinking into his lip. "Nox, maybe we can?—"

"No." There was no heat in the word. I lifted his palm to my lips and kissed it once. "We can't, Micah. I'll risk almost everything and everyone in my life, but I won't risk you. It's not happening."

His throat bobbed. "So, this is it?"

I couldn't look at him. My demon was clawing at me beneath the surface, desperately trying to break free, to salvage whatever he could from this situation. It was strangely easy to keep him at bay. I think it was because I knew this was what was best for Micah—the thing that would enable Micah the best shot at the happiness he deserved.

"It is, little angel." I kissed his forehead, lingering for as long as I could. A ball formed in my throat, so thick it was choking me. "Be happy, Micah."

I didn't wait for him to respond, releasing him and marching out the door.

I didn't let myself look back. I couldn't.

The whole time I walked away from him, I repeated my final words to him like a mantra. Like if I said it enough, I'd manifest it from thin air.

Be happy, Micah.

After all this time, I'd finally found my purpose. To make Micah happy.

And to do that, I needed to track down the fucker who'd hurt him. I'd remove him from the world with a smile on my face.

Then, if I left too as a result, I'd die happy, knowing I'd protected my mate. That I'd given him the best chance of a joy-filled future.

By removing myself from the picture entirely.

T here wasn't exactly an instruction manual on how to track down the being who'd hurt your mate. All I had to go on was that he'd received the lashings as some form of punishment and which weapon had been used. Thanks to my own time in Hell, I knew his scars were from a whip.

It had to have been done by another angel. Likely an arch, given the damage they'd managed to inflict on Micah.

As a demon, it wasn't like I could just fly up to Heaven, knock on the pearly gates, and demand answers. Even if I'd been an angel, it was unlikely they'd give me the information I needed. I had to imagine that this bullshit was classified, given the Seraphim were apparently in the dark about it too.

That was the reason I also wasn't banging down the door to the compound. Although they'd likely be able to help me, Micah hadn't told them for a reason. While I disagreed with his logic, I wasn't about to betray him. Not like that.

That left only one avenue open to me. One I wasn't thrilled about taking. But if it meant helping Micah, I'd put my own selfish feelings aside and do it. I just needed to find him first.

Other supes were notoriously hard to track down. Humans though? They were a piece of cake.

I loitered under a tree on the bustling university campus, waiting for the lecture to finish. When it did, a surge of students rushed out into the grounds, their excited chatter filling the air. I ignored them all, looking for the one I needed.

When he appeared, he was thankfully alone. His dark hair was shorter than I remembered, and he certainly looked less tense than the last time I'd seen him.

Given I'd been helping him escape Hell at the time, that was to be expected.

I stepped into his path, aiming for a friendly smile. "Hi, Lucky. "

He paused for a second before his gaze narrowed. "Nox?"

I bowed mockingly. "The one and only."

"Why are you here?" His voice was laced with suspicion. From his pocket, I could hear his phone vibrating over and over as someone tried to reach him. "If you're planning on kidnapping or hurting me, you should know my mates are on their way."

My smile stretched wide. "Perfect. Wanna grab an ice cream while we wait?"

I 'd clocked the ice cream van parked on the road by the lecture hall while I'd been waiting for Lucky. We joined the queue of students waiting to be served. While we queued, I reassured the human that I had no nefarious intentions, just that I wanted to talk to his mates.

Well, one in particular.

Flame hit my shield as we drew level with the window to order Lucky's ice cream. The human's head whipped around as he glared at the blue-haired demon storming over with murder on his face. "Don't hurt him, he's about to buy me an ice cream."

The way Dagon faltered was almost comical. He literally stumbled, his ire replaced with confusion.

To be fair, he couldn't endanger me without putting his mate at risk thanks to the deal we'd made in Hell. I wasn't about to point that out right now though. I was reckless, not stupid.

Biting back a laugh, I paid the man running the van and waited patiently while Lucky collected his Mr. Whippy complete with two flakes and sprinkles. He hummed happily and gestured at a nearby picnic bench.

We took a seat, Dagon glowering at me once again. "What the fuck do you think you're doing, accosting our mate like this?"

"I didn't accost him. I merely asked him if he wanted an ice cream."

Lucky nodded, his tongue swiping to catch the drips. "He did."

Dagon's eyes narrowed. "I'm not buying it. Demons always have an ulterior motive."

I smirked. "Well you'd know, being the son of the most powerful one."

His glare turned deadly. "Careful, Nox. You might be used to playing with fire, but fuck with one of us and you'll definitely get burned."

"Has anyone ever told you you're a bit dramatic?"

"All the time," Lucky piped up, winking at me from behind his ice cream. "They all are."

Dagon closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. "Darling, could we not do this in front of other random supes?"

Lucky rolled his eyes. "Nox isn't random. He saved me from Hell, remember? I highly doubt he's here with any ill intent. Besides, if he's endangered and you don't protect him, I'll pay with my immortality. Or did you forget that tiny detail?"

From the look on his face, Dagon had forgotten it. "I can't believe you were stupid enough to make that deal in the first place."

"Meh." Lucky shrugged. "It got us out of there. Besides, Nox doesn't look like the kind of bloke to get himself into trouble. "

I choked on my saliva as Dagon buried his head in his hands.

"Lucky, he's literally a demon."

"So are you, but you're not always getting yourself into trouble." Lucky paused, tilting his head to the side like he was thinking. "Actually, scratch that. You do all have a knack of stumbling into dangerous, world-ending shit."

Dagon muttered something under his breath before turning to me. "So? What do you want?"

Lucky poked him in the ribs and hissed, "Don't be rude. He bought me a Mr. Whippy with two flakes and sprinkles."

I bit my lip as Dagon sighed. "Lucky, you have enough money in your account to buy every ice cream van in the country three times over."

"It's not the point," Lucky said around a mouthful of ice cream. "The point is, he bought it for me. He hasn't threatened me or been rude, so you need to be nice . You know, how you are with me."

Dagon's eyes heated. "Maybe not exactly as I am with you."

I watched their easy interaction with fascination, knowing that they were Dimitri's fated mates. These were the men who'd captured his heart where Micah could not.

Suddenly it all made sense. They couldn't have been more different to my Micah. The seriousness that I loved about him was missing entirely. Both of them seemed content living in the moment, not worrying about what the future might bring.

Maybe that was what Dimitri needed. I'd come to learn that the life of a Seraphim was far from easy. Maybe that was why fate had given him mates who could alleviate what he carried.

Maybe that was why fate had given me to Micah .

My chest ached. I'd never share with him what Lucky and Dagon shared with Dimitri. We'd never know this easy happiness that appeared to exist between them.

I could alleviate Micah's burden though. If I sent a message to the higher-ups, hopefully he wouldn't be punished in the same way again. And then I'd be out of his life too.

He'd be free to give his heart to whoever he truly wanted.

I tried to ignore how desperately my chest ached at the thought.

Dragging myself back to the present moment, I cleared my throat. "I do have an ulterior motive?—"

"Called it," Dagon muttered.

"But it's not a nefarious one," I continued. "I need to speak with Dimitri."

Dagon and Lucky exchanged a look before the latter spoke. "Is this about Micah?"

My fingers tightened on the table at the sound of his name. "Yes."

Lucky shifted in his seat. "You're not here to try and start any drama, right? Like, that door is closed."

"Firmly," Dagon added.

At my back, I felt a pulse of power. It didn't touch me though, just surrounded us warningly.

I didn't turn, not taking my attention from the angry demon who was glaring at me again. "No. It's not connected to any of you. Something's going on with Micah. Someone's… hurting him. He won't tell me who, and I won't rest until they're stopped. Dimitri's the only one who might be able to help me figure out who it is."

The pulse of power disappeared as a figure slid onto the bench beside me. A ripple went through me at the sight of the former angel my mate loved. At how fucking similar he looked to me. Even his glare was the one I saw in the mirror.

The only difference was his Texan accent, so different to my British one. "Then I guess you better start talking."