Chapter 32

THIRTY-TWO

Gabriel

I feel slightly guilty entrusting Lucifer's axe to Sinclair. Also leaving him and the others to deal with nine, traumatized prisoners. But Willow has gone through hell the last fourteen hours, and when I pulled her into my arms a few minutes ago, she burst into tears.

"I…have t-to get out…of h-h-here. P-Please, Gabriel. Take m-me anywhere…but here."

I am not certain I have the strength. But for her, I will try. When my soul returned to my body, the pain was overwhelming. I cursed Azrael for not warning me. Though, perhaps he did, and I chose to ignore him. I have been known to do that. Often.

Zoe hurries over to us. She favors her right shoulder after laying down cover fire from a tree for over an hour. Without her, Hannah's goons could have shot me—along with Sinclair and Maddox—a hundred times over.

"Gabriel, are you strong enough to take her back to the penthouse?" Lowering her voice, Zoe adds, "I was only conscious for a few seconds after you and Sin pulled my soul out of Hell. But the last place I wanted to be was that old power station."

I smooth my hand over Willow's hair. " Deliciae, do you trust me?"

"How can you ask me that?" she says, sniffling. "I love you."

"Where is the Blade? You have been entrusted with its care. We should not leave it behind."

Willow shifts in my arms and points to a makeshift table Sin and Kunchin fashioned out of a slab from one of the walls and two of the now empty cages. The Blade looks so ordinary. Old. No more threatening than a letter opener.

"I'll get it for you," Zoe says, and shrugs out of her leather jacket. She wraps the Blade up tightly and passes it to Willow. "I'll text you the combination for Sin's vault. It's behind a false wall in our bedroom closet. The Blade will be safe there until you decide what to do with it."

I tuck Willow against my side. Her delicate hand presses to my heart, and she shudders. "I don't like feeling your blood," she says softly.

"Neither do I, my love. But we will take care of that soon enough."

Before I can carry us to Sinclair's penthouse, Zoe grabs my arm. "Gabriel? We won't make it back for at least twenty-four hours. You and Willow will have some privacy. But please…for the love of all that's holy in this world…no sex on the living room furniture."

The lights of San Francisco cast glittering colors over Sinclair's black leather couches. Willow sags against me, utterly silent. This worries me more than her tears.

Once the Blade is secure, I lead her into the bath. But she stops me when I try to remove her shirt.

"You first. Please. I can't…" Tears brim in her eyes. "I keep seeing you die. Over and over again."

I lower my gaze to the gray t-shirt. The formerly gray t-shirt. "Fuck." The material rips in my hands. But even balling it up and hiding it in the trash does not allay her distress.

My chest does not look much better. The wound has healed, but a jagged scar over my heart will remain for the rest of my existence. However long that will be.

Willow takes one of the soft, black washcloths, runs it under hot water, and starts dabbing at the blood staining my skin.

"Does it still hurt?" She only meets my gaze for a brief moment, and the pain in her eyes breaks my heart.

I wish I could lie. Her emotions are too fragile for the truth. But though I suspect I am no longer welcome in the celestial realm, I was, am, and always will be an angel.

"A dull ache, yes. I suspect I will feel it for the rest of my days." At her quiet sob, I cover her hand with mine. "Willow, look at me. Please."

She shakes her head and her tears spill over. "I…I killed you."

"No, love. No . It may have been your hand, but it was not you." I nudge her chin up, needing her to see the truth in my eyes. "I will never see that scar and remember the moment I…died. I will think only of my love for you and the moment I came back to life."

Willow's tenuous control shatters. Her entire body shakes as she sobs against my chest.

I sink down to the floor with her held in my arms, rubbing her back in slow circles, whispering words of love with my lips pressed to her hair until she has no more tears to cry.

Silence holds sway as I help her remove her bloodstained clothes, then shed the rest of mine and guide her into the shower. The water runs red, and as I brush Willow's hair away from her neck, my rage threatens to boil over.

Despite the healing power of the vampire's blood, deep purple bruises mar her collarbone, her arms, both shoulders, and several ribs. But that's not the worst of the devastation raged over her body. An angry red scar rings her throat. She shies away when I skim my finger just below the mark. "Don't…please."

"Killian said power chains were unbreakable. How did you manage?—"

"Love." She shudders, despite the heat of the spray. "And the strength of all the whispers who came before. The grimoire condemned every one of the Whisper Keepers to death because that's all it ever showed them. They spent centuries trapped in the void. Afraid. Alone. But they figured it out. We figured it out. The only way to survive was to do it together."

Sweeping her against me, I claim her lips. Willow melts in my arms, but kisses me back with such passion, my cock springs to life, and a low growl rumbles in my throat.

"Gabriel," she pants when we come up for air. "I need… Make me feel alive ."

I press her back against the wall and turn off the spray. Avoiding her bruises proves difficult. My lips graze her collarbone. She whimpers, but it is not pain in her tone. It is need. So pure and raw, it almost overwhelms me.

Raining kisses over her skin, to the hollow of her throat just below the scar, down to her breasts, her waist, all the way to her mound, I savor every moan, every tremor, and the scent of her arousal.

"You are so fucking wet, my love. I would take you right here if I could wait another second to taste you."

Willow braces her arms against the shower walls as I swipe my tongue through her folds. She is rain. Spring. Love.

Sliding two fingers deep in her channel, I pump my hand in time with my tongue lapping at her clit. It takes only minutes for her to fly apart, screaming my name as her body quakes and her knees go weak.

I catch her before she falls. "Hold onto me, deliciae. For what comes next, this shower is much too small."

Her breath hitches, and a fresh wave of her arousal washes over me. "I need you inside me," she pleads, her voice husky from her release.

I wrap her in one of the black, fluffy towels and carry her into the bedroom. "You will have everything you need soon enough."

Her hooded eyes flutter as I lay her down, then suck one peaked nipple into my mouth. Willow's back arches. Her soft moans are life itself to me now.

"I am going to memorize every inch of you," I whisper against her skin. "What you like. What you need. What makes you scream."

She shudders as I kiss my way along her collarbone. "Gabriel. Please…"

Sinking her fingers into my damp hair, she angles my head and guides me to her mouth. Her tongue demands entrance. I let her take the control she needs—for now. I will claim her pleasure soon enough.

Pain prickles along my scalp as she tightens her grip. The sensation shoots straight to my cock, and I groan. How can this one woman wield so much power over me? I have laid my soul bare for her, and I would do it again a thousand times over.

Her hips swivel in the most delicious way. My hard length rasps against her clit. A drop of my seed escapes. Willow breaks off the kiss and licks her lips.

"Can I…?"

"My love, you never need to ask. I am yours until the end of time itself."

She scoots back against a mound of pillows, tiny lines of pain bracing her eyes. Fuck me. She is too fragile to have my cock in her mouth tonight. But she will not be deterred. "Help me. I need this—and what comes next—more than anything."

I get to my knees, straddling her so my cock is only inches from her glistening lips.

"You test my control, Willow. I want to be inside you in any way—in every way." Bracing one hand on the headboard, I give my length a stroke with the other.

Her eyes follow my movements. Another drop of my seed escapes. Willow scents me. She licks her lips. Her tongue sweeps over my crown.

Fuck. Willow teases me with the lightest of touches before she surges forward and wraps her hand around the base of my shaft.

I'm sucked deep in a single move. Willow hollows out her cheeks and takes me all the way to the back of her throat. She knows what she wants—and how to take it. That someone so pure, so innocent, so brilliant would want an angel like me for a partner is?—"

"Not a partner, Gabriel. A mate."

I am halfway gone, but her words in my head are so shocking—and everything I could never have hoped for.

"Willow?"

Her lips curve into a gentle smile as she sucks my cock. She runs her tongue along the thick vein, hums, and with the lightest touch, skims her teeth over the sensitive skin.

"You are perfect, deliciae . Made for me, and I for you." I close my eyes, letting her set the pace for both of us. Her free hand wraps around my hip, fingers digging into the firm flesh of my ass.

"Harder," she demands without words.

My eyes fly open. "How…fuck. How are you doing this?"

"Don't know. But you're not listening."

"Well, I will remedy that with all due haste," I tease, thrusting my hips hard enough to make her gag, then pulling back with all my angelic speed. Again and again, I plunder her mouth. I'm desperate for her. Desperate to give her my seed. Desperate for her to see me break. To watch her lose control and break right along with me.

My balls tighten. "I am too close, Willow. I want…I need to finish inside you. In a way…I have never shared with another soul."

She pulls off my cock gently, pressing a kiss to my crown before she peers up at me.

"Do you trust me?" I ask for the second time this long night.

She nods. "With all that I am."

Fastening my hands around her hips, I angle them and slide home in one long, slow stroke. Her thighs tremble.

"Hold onto me, deliciae. Eyes on me. Always," I command.

Willow holds my gaze, obeying without question. She is mine, and I am hers. For the rest of our days.

Kneeling on the bed with her impaled on my cock, I release my wings. They unfold with a gentle rush of air, full and strong and powerful.

"Gabriel…" she breathes. "They're so beautiful."

"They are nothing compared to you, my heart. My light. My love."

I beat them gently, lifting us off the bed and high into the air. At the last moment, I twist us around to avoid the chandelier. "When we get our own place to live," I say with my lips pressed to her neck, "only lamps. No overhead lights at all."

I cup Willow's ass, thrusting my hips again and again. Her channel welcomes me home each time, little tremors and quakes for me to savor for the rest of our days.

"Can you take more, love?"

"Uh huh." Her breath escapes in shallow pants, and the most beautiful flush blooms on her chest.

With one hand pressed between her shoulders, I urge her to let go. To let herself do nothing but feel. She arches her back as I spin us in a slow circle, my hips moving faster, harder with each thrust.

My release races closer. Dipping my head, I suck one of her nipples into my mouth, and the sensation sends Willow over the edge with a scream.

Her channel clenches around me, tighter and tighter until I can no longer hold on. With a roar, I lose myself to my witch. My mate. My one true love for the rest of our days.