“Does it hurt?”

Malachi paused. He knew that it must hurt. His brain registered the pain in his arms. But it was nothing to the pure jolt of power her mating song had given him.

“Will you say something?”

“No.”

He sat up, wrapped his arms around her waist, and tackled her to the bed.

Ava gasped as he covered her. His mouth fell on hers in a ravenous kiss. He felt her breasts crushed against his chest. His hands tangled in her hair. Heat and magic and hunger swirled together in a vicious cocktail of need.

Malachi kissed her mouth, opening her lips with his tongue to taste her. Stroking along the lips that had worked such painful, beautiful magic. He bit her lower lip, sucked it into his mouth, and released it before he did the same to her upper.

One of her hands clutched his hair, the other dug into his neck, pulling him closer as her legs wrapped around his waist.

Jaw. Neck. Throat.

He let his lips linger at the rapid pulse in her neck as she gasped for breath.

Then his lips and tongue went lower, tasting the golden skin of her breasts, teasing frantic cries of pleasure from her. He bit the inner curve that tempted him, marking her with his teeth as he pressed up at the small of her back. He lifted her soft belly to his lips. He could feel his aching skin stretch and heal around the black ink that had reappeared, but the silver glow of the magic she’d given him was a pure current running through his body.

He pressed forward, taking her mouth again.

She was his. Every inch of her. Every breath. Every cry.

“Malachi, I need you.”

His to cherish. His to hold.

He ran a hand down the curve of her waist to her hip, stroking back and squeezing the tight round muscle in the palm of his hand. He pressed up and in, holding her there as the scent of her arousal filled the room.

“Please,” she whispered. “Please.”

He released her mouth only long enough to tear away the loose pants she wore. Then he shoved down his own and he was over her, poised at her entrance.

“Ava,” he commanded. “Look at me.”

Gold eyes met grey.

“You are mine.”

“Yes.”

Malachi drove into his mate with one thrust, sinking to the hilt and allowing his face to fall into her neck on a groan.

He closed his eyes and saw it again, a gold sky streaked with light.

Holy and wholly.

Their union a perfect mirror of eternity as their magic met and twined together. Light and dark spun in an endless whorl.

FAST. Then slow. Fast again.

“You’re going to kill me,” she panted after the second time they’d come together, and Malachi showed no sign of slowing down.

“Never.”

Malachi teased her for hours, the potent cocktail of magic and endorphins forming a perfect storm of sexual energy. Ava was wrung out. Exhausted.

But he could also feel her happiness.

Her contentment was a balm over his soul. He could feel the magic she’d sacrificed to bond herself to him, but he refused to let fear spoil her gift.

“I love your vow.” He stretched his arms over his head as she rode him.

She bent down, ran her lips over the flat, sensitive nipple surrounded by spells. Let her lips trail over the skin where he’d put her words.

“I will be proud to wear it,” he said.

“I’m glad.”

“I promise to always be a good home, Ava.”

She paused and looked at him, her eyes stripped of every defense.

Malachi whispered, “A safe home. Always.”

“I know.”

“No matter where we go,” he continued. “No matter what happens as the years pass, I promise.”

He sat up, held her cheeks with both hands and watched her smile spread.

“I love you.”

“I came back to you,” he said. “I remember. It was a choice, and I chose you.”

Ava’s jaw dropped when she realized what he was talking about. “Was it beautiful?”

“Very.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t. I told you,” he said, rubbing his thumb over her trembling lip. “I’d abandon heaven if you weren’t there.”

“How can I repay that?” she said. “There’s nothing—”

“There is no debt. Love is not a debt. It’s a promise. And I promised you once that I’d be back. Don’t you remember?”

“In the cistern,” she said. “Before—”

“I promised.” He smiled when he pinched her chin. “You only had to call me, canım. You may not have noticed this, but sometimes your mate is forgetful.”

She laughed and laughed, and that too was a balm on his soul. Because though Malachi had left her, he hadn’t known to miss her in heaven. Not until she called.

Ava pressed a delicate kiss to his lips. “I’m glad you’re back,” she said against his mouth.

“I don’t plan on leaving again.” He rolled so she was under him. “And now I have a powerful singer as my mate.”

She arched her back and ran her hands over his shoulders, along his biceps, and over the spells on his forearms until she could wrap her fingers around his wrists. “And I have a magnificent scribe who has claimed me.”

He flexed his hips against hers and hummed in satisfaction when she moaned.

“You do.”

“Make me yours again.”

He leaned down, bracing an arm near her shoulder as he took her mouth.

“Always.”

Chapter Twenty

SHE WATCHED HIM AS HE left for the Library. He’d woken before dawn to go and tattoo the mating vow on his chest. And though he would only be walking through the city center, he was strapping silver daggers to his body, taking every precaution before he left her.

“You’re staring,” he whispered. “You should go back to sleep.”

“I’m not tired. And you’re too beautiful not to stare at.”

He smiled. It might have been just a little smug. But then, they’d both been voracious the night before. Ava guessed it was only the magic making her restless.

“Damien will be here in a minute,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “How do you feel?”

“I don’t feel weaker or anything like that.”

He tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. “With Grigori in the city, I don’t want you going anywhere alone. Normally we would have performed our mating away from everything. Taken time apart to give our bond time to mature so we would both be at full strength. We probably should have done it at my grandparents’ house when we were there.”

“We weren’t ready then.”

“No.”

She took a deep breath and traced the line of a tattoo that peeked over his collar. “Do you really remember everything?”

“Yes. Including how stubborn you’ve always been. You pulled a gun on me once,” he said with a grin.

“I thought you were a nefarious kidnapper. Bent on seducing me and stealing me away.”

“That sounds like an excellent plan.”

“Yes, let’s do that.”

He grabbed her hand and kissed it. “Until we can, I want you to be careful.”

“The spells Vasu told me, they were pretty effective.”

“Hmm.”

She’d written down what they had sounded like to her, but he hadn’t recognized the words. She’s told him the instant effect—both the excruciating mental pain and the paralysis they’d caused—and he’d been impressed.

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that the Fallen and Forgiven might have very different magic.”

Ava frowned. “Isn’t it all basically the same thing?”

Malachi shrugged. “Yes? I don’t really know, to be honest. The Old Language is the angelic tongue, but you have to remember we only have what our ancestors were taught. We’re talking about thousands of years of oral and written tradition following that. Irin magic has changed over time. I’m sure of it. It could be the spells Vasu taught you are words that have been forgotten. Or were never given to us at all.”