Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

M ina floated in and out of consciousness. Reality came and went in brief flashes. Sometimes the bed beneath her was cold and hard; other times it was warm and firm. She would be so hot she could barely breathe, and then so cold that her teeth chattered.

Her angel was always with her, tending to her every need, his cool, clean scent surrounding her. Even when he was forcing her to drink some horrible bitter liquid, she felt safe knowing that he was there.

There was another presence too, a small sleek body that curled against her stomach or tucked himself into the crook of her neck. In one of her lucid moments, she remembered the little dragon's injured wing, but when she tried to examine it, she was too weak to lift her trembling hand.

"He's fine." The deep, melodic voice of her angel soothed her fears. When he had spoken before, she hadn't understood his words, but they made sense now, despite his strange, almost musical accent.

She searched for him, to thank him, but she only caught a glimpse of that strikingly handsome face before her eyes fluttered closed once again.

Night had fallen the next time she awoke, but she had no idea how much time had passed. Her body felt weak and limp, but for the first time in a long while, her thoughts were clear. The bed was hard and cold again, and she wiggled uncomfortably but didn't have the strength to sit up.

"Stop moving." Her angel's voice sounded from across the room.

Room? No . The flickering firelight revealed rough stone walls. A cave .

Ignoring his words, she tried to scramble into a sitting position, clutching her blanket and swaying dizzily as she moved. Her angel muttered something that sounded suspiciously like a curse— did angels swear? —and came to her assistance, putting his big arm around her to support her as she sat upright.

"I don't understand. I thought heaven would be all fluffy clouds and soft beds." A new thought struck her as she looked around at the roughhewn rock, red and gold in the firelight. "This isn't hell, is it?"

Looking up at him didn't completely erase the suspicion. Her angel was certainly handsome enough, but not in an entirely comforting way. The lines of his face were drawn in harsh slashes, his eyes gleamed pale and silvery, and for the second time, she noticed the sharp, silvery claws that tipped his fingers. When he opened his mouth, she caught a glimpse of sharp white fangs. No matter, she decided. As long as he was here, she knew she was safe. He was frowning down at her, but she gave him a sunny smile.

"I don't mind if it is," she assured him.

"What are you?—"

Before he could continue, a short squawk interrupted him and Draco hopped onto her knee.

"I thought you were here. How's your wing?"

He stretched out both of them, as if in response. The injured one still did not extend fully, but he had obviously regained control over it. She murmured approvingly, scratching around the small spikes that crowned his head.

"He's fine," her angel said firmly. "Where?—"

"You healed him too?"

"For the second time. Which would not have been necessary if he had remained where I put him." He frowned at the little dragon, but he stroked a gentle finger along his back. "Now, where do you think you are?"

"I thought you were coming to take me to heaven when you appeared out of the snow like that, but now…" She gestured around the cave. "I'm thinking maybe this is hell? Not that I mind," she added again.

"You think you are in the afterlife?"

"Where else would I be? I've never seen a place like this before. Or anyone like you." Her eyes traveled admiringly across his wide muscled chest. One of his wings was wrapped around her, and she ran a finger down a soft, silvery white feather. Driven by a shameful curiosity—although, if this was hell, surely she was allowed a few lustful thoughts—her gaze dropped down past the taut ridges of his abdomen but found only smooth white skin stretched between his legs. She did her best to muffle a disappointed sigh. Of course. It made sense that an angel would be sexless, but the rest of him was so distractingly masculine that she had hoped for something else.

"Your skin is turning pink again. Are you feeling ill?"

His concerned voice made her jump guiltily, and she snatched her gaze back up to his face.

"I'm fine. I just feel so weak."

Ignoring her words, he placed a big hand across her chest. It was so large that it spanned most of her rib cage, his fingers curving around her left breast. Her nipple immediately hardened into a tight little point.

"What… What are you doing?"

"Checking your heart rate." His voice was calm, almost disinterested, but then he shifted his grip and his palm brushed the taut peak. Desire rushed over her so quickly that she felt dizzy, and she pushed against him, seeking more of that tantalizing touch. He dropped his hand as if he had been scalded.

She could feel more heat rushing into her cheeks as he jumped to his feet, but he was no longer looking in her direction. As he turned away from her, she could have sworn that the skin across his lower abdomen was no longer smooth and flat, but before she could get a second look, he was bending over the fire on the far side of the cave.

"You have been ill for several days. It is only natural that you would feel weak." He returned with what looked like a cup made from bark, his voice calm and his face expressionless. "Drink some of this."

Despite her uncertain memories, she recalled him giving her something very bitter to drink, and she frowned at the cup. "Do I have to?"

"It will do you good."

The hand holding out the cup did not waver, and she sighed and took a tiny sip. To her delight, it contained a warm, meaty broth. She drained half of it before she remembered her manners.

"I'm sorry. Did you want some?"

"There is plenty."

Her little dragon gave a hopeful chirp, and she laughed. "Does that mean you want some too?"

"No." A big hand prevented her from lowering the cup. "This is for you."

"But I think he's hungry."

"He has already devoured an entire pouch of broth. He is not hungry."

Despite the acerbic words, her angel didn't seem annoyed. Draco was still giving her that same eager look, but since her angel showed no signs of relenting, she finished the broth herself, despite feeling guilty.

"That's better." He took the empty cup. "Do you want to rest? We can talk later."

The warmth in her stomach spread throughout her body, her limbs feeling heavy and tired, but she shook her head. "I have the feeling that I need to know what you're going to tell me. If this isn't heaven—or hell—where am I? And who are you?"

"My name is Myk-El."

"Michael." She smiled. "Just like the angel."

"Myk-El," he repeated, and she could hear the subtle difference.

"Mikel?"

"Close enough. I am not a messenger from the afterlife."

He hesitated, and she patted the rock ledge next to her. "Please sit down. It hurts my neck to look up at you."

It wasn't entirely true, but she wanted him close to her for whatever he was about to say. An uneasy feeling was making her stomach churn.

He sat down but didn't immediately resume the conversation. His claws tapped together, and she put her hand over his.

"Please tell me."

His hand turned under hers, then he wrapped his fingers carefully around her hand.

"What is your name, little one?" he asked.

"Mina."

"Mee-na," he repeated, and she had the strangest urge to blush again.

"Where do you live, Mee-na?"

"I don't really have a home." The familiar ache filled her chest.

At the desolation in her voice, he put his arm around her shoulders and she leaned into him.

"Perhaps I should rephrase that. You are aware that you live on a planet that circles a star? One of many stars in the universe?"

"Yes, of course." Her annoyance helped relieve some of the dread. "I might not have gone to college, but I'm not stupid."

"I did not mean any offense. I was just unsure as to the state of your technology." His arm tightened. "You are no longer on your home planet."

"You mean… you're an alien?" Her heart started thumping alarmingly fast. Why had it been so much easier to believe that he was an angel than an alien?

"It would be more correct to say that we are both aliens. This is not my planet either."

"Whose planet is it?"

"I don't know. I awoke here—as I suspect you did."

"Yes," she admitted. "But you… you speak English."

"I have a… device in my head that translates languages."

"Wow. Where did you get that?"

His body stiffened. "I built it."

"Really? That's amazing."

"My people look down on such work, but it was a rewarding challenge."

"I think it's incredible," she said sincerely.

The tension left his body, and she snuggled closer. "So someone just dumped us here? Together?" She hummed thoughtfully. "You know, that's what I thought when I first woke up. That it was some sort of stupid game."

"Perhaps. Or perhaps an experiment of some kind."

"One where I would have died if not for you. Thank goodness they picked you as my partner."

And thank goodness she wasn't alone. A reckless impulse swept over her, and she rose up on her knees.

"Thank you for saving me."

Leaning in, she brushed her lips across his. As soon as she did, it felt somehow familiar. She had done this before.

He felt like a statue beneath her mouth, but she was sure he had kissed her back last time. Greatly daring, she licked the seam of his lips.

The cave whirled around her, so quickly did he pull her into his lap. His mouth forced her lips apart as he returned her kiss with feverish intensity. The blanket slid down, and her naked breasts pressed against the velvety firmness of his chest. She tried to rub the aching peaks against him, and he helped her, sliding her slowly up and down without ever breaking their kiss.

He slid her lower, the ridges of his abdomen sending a shock of pleasure straight to her exposed clit, and settled her against a swelling bulge. Oh, Lord. That felt even better, and she wiggled shamelessly against the heated ridge of flesh. Some distant part of her mind wondered where it had come from, but she was too hot, too needy to care.

A sudden pressure against her swollen clit sent her into a short, hard climax. She was still shuddering when she felt a wide, hot knob pressing against her entrance.

And then Myk-El was gone and she was alone on the rocky ledge, an icy chill sweeping over her still throbbing body as he fled the cave.