Holding her gaze, he closed the final distance between them and went down to his knees, that beautiful bruised face looking up at her.

Illium grinned, unrepentant. “Want to try again? I’ll move extra slow — you are both so much older, after all.” The last words were a conspiratorial whisper. Galen glanced at Raphael. “How has he survived this long?” “No one can catch him.

Maybe, just maybe, two broken people could manage to create something whole.

A lot of women have trouble with their mothers-in-law.” Raphael’s look was priceless. “My mother is an insane archangel.

How’s Her Royal Bitchiness?” “Alive.” “Pity.

She watched as he settled down on the bed with Naya skin to skin on his chest. His hand all but covered her tiny body as he stroked her in that changeling way, bonding with her on the most elemental level. Then he purred, and Naya made a happy little sound of delight, very much a cat in her love of touch.

Looking at her, bedraggled and beaten, some might have seen weakness. He saw strength, determination, and a will no one could crush.