Horror and rage had his mate going stiff above him. “Making a child is strictly forbidden. Children go mad if Made. They die.”

“I came close to death, but perhaps because I was a chimera, I survived no more mad than when he began the process.”

“You were never mad.”

“I was feral.”

“That’s not madness.” Kisses on his jaw.

He turned into them, shamelessly asking for more. Andromeda gave him what he wanted, her lips as gentle as her love was fierce.

Opening his eyes so he could see that fierce love in hers, he picked up her hand to nip and kiss at her fingertips. “Those who know I ate Osiris’s heart say that perhaps I’m so strong, so immortal, because I ate the heart of an Ancient while I wasn’t yet full-grown.”

“Does that bother you?”

“No.” Naasir bared his teeth. “I like the idea of having consumed my enemy and made his power my own.”

“Me, too,” said his smart, wild mate, her eyes glinting. “You grew despite the Making.”

“Yes.” No one had expected that, those who knew of him readying themselves to deal with the distress and pain of a child who never grew, but whose understanding might get steadily older. “My growth patterns mimicked those of angelic children.”

No one knew why, but the prevailing theory was that as a chimera, he was already naturally immortal and as such, his body had fought the toxins of the Making. However, because he’d been small and weak, he hadn’t totally won the fight and thus gained certain vampiric characteristics. “Like angelkind, I haven’t measurably aged since I became an adult. We can be together for eternity.”

Andromeda’s face blanched, all happiness wiped away.

Growling, he tumbled her over onto her back and braced himself above her. “Enough, mate,” he said in a tone that wasn’t wholly human. “What are you hiding from me?”

Her throat moved, the words she spoke a harsh rasp. “Tomorrow, I must go to Charisemnon’s court.”

Naasir curled his lip over his teeth. “You must do a tribute to your archangel? I will go with you to protect you.”

“No.” Andromeda’s breathing turned labored, as if she was finding it hard to draw air into her lungs. “I’m bound to serve five hundred years in his court.”

Naasir went motionless above her. “Why are you enslaved?”

“A familial blood vow. It cannot be negotiated.”

Naasir snarled at the finality in her tone. “No one likes Charisemnon,” he said. “Just ignore the obligation.” He nipped at her lower lip, then did it again because she’d been hiding things from him that hurt her.

Nails digging into his shoulders, she narrowed her eyes. He ran a clawed hand over her cheek in warning. She didn’t look scared at all. “I like your nails in me,” he said with a grin. “Dig harder.”

A distinct grr sound from his mate. “I can’t just not turn up,” she snapped. “You know what archangels are like—they might fight amongst themselves, but they won’t support rebellion within each other’s families.”

“Things have changed.” Naasir braced himself on his forearms. “Raphael hates Charisemnon for causing the Falling. He’ll accept you into his protection.” Because she was Naasir’s, and Raphael backed his Seven.

Andromeda shook her head. “It may cost him the allegiance of those like Astaad who are more traditional.”

Naasir growled, but he didn’t argue—they both knew she was right. Astaad considered Charisemnon an enemy, but if Raphael broke such a deep angelic prohibition, it could fracture their alliance. And any infighting or serious disagreement between the allies would give Lijuan a weakness to exploit. But— “Jason took Mahiya away from Neha.”

“Our situations are very different below the surface.” Andromeda had hoped when she’d heard about the union, dug up everything she could about the princess. “The service requirement is specific to my grandfather’s court.”

“I hate vows,” Naasir muttered. “Now that we’re mated, you can’t make any more.”

“How about if I vow to love you forever?” A soft question.

“That one is allowed.” He nipped at her nose. “I love you, too, even if you keep taking stupid vows I have to break.”

She bared her teeth at him. “I didn’t choose this one.” Anger made her voice rough. “I don’t want to go, but if I don’t, Charisemnon will declare me an outcast with a price on my head. Even if Raphael doesn’t care about the blood vow, someone will—or they’ll just want the bounty. I’ll be hunted the rest of my life.” And Naasir would be hunted with her. “That’s no kind of life.”

“What about your father?”

“Cato would never go against his archangel.”

Naasir’s silver eyes locked with her own. “You know Cato isn’t your father in blood. Why are you pretending otherwise? Even had Dahariel not given you an uncommon amount of attention, your wings bear markings a step removed from his.”

Andromeda looked away, but Naasir gripped her jaw, made her meet his gaze again. Surrendering, she admitted the truth. “I was so happy when I realized,” she confessed. “I thought he was brave and strong and intelligent—and he is, but he’s also capable of gross cruelty.”

She took a ragged breath. “Ten years before I left for the Refuge, I walked into a room in my parents’ home and saw him torturing a mortal boy who was barely of age.” It had shattered Andromeda, left her heart in pieces on the floor, the hope inside her snuffed out. “He meant for me to know,” she whispered. “He could see the stars in my eyes and he wanted to erase them, to show me his true colors.” To teach her that though he wasn’t lost in a compulsive search for sensation like her parents, he was as pitilessly jaded.