“That’s enough,” I snap, and Damien’s smirk spreads.
“Oh, come on, Xalreth. That arrogant ass doesn’t give a damn about any opinion other than his own. Do you think he even has an entire brain in there? Maybe God was still experimenting when he created Micah and messed up on his head. I bet it’s like a fucking Picasso in there, all disjointed and abstract. It’s the only way to explain why he’s so awful—” Damien’s words are cut off mid-sentence as I wrap my fingers around his neck, my teeth bared in a snarl, and the sudden pressure makes his eyes bulge.
Chaos erupts as everyone else in the room shouts and snaps to attention. A heavy, tingling magic, like a thousand needles prickling my skin, surrounds me as Niklaus roars and leaps from his chair. But his powers are weakened outside his domain, and I’m able to fight through the pain. He thunders over, charging like a bull, but Damien holds a hand out to stop him.
“Xalreth, release him,” Micah says from the front of the room.
“Not until he apologizes.” Damien’s face is turning a deeper red as his eyes narrow and dart around my face. Only he could be in this position and maintain his bored indifference. He knows he isn’t in any real danger—not only is Damien older and more powerful than me, but he’s also one of my oldest friends.
“Xal, it’s fine—” Micah tries again, but I shake my head as I interrupt.
“No, it isn’t.”
“Xal? He’s calling you…Xal?!Oh… my… fucking…God… when didthishappen?” Damien whispers, so low only I hear him, and I squeeze tighter as my snarl deepens.
“Xalreth,releasehim.” This time, Micah commands it, and his power pries my fingers back and forces my fist to loosen. Damien continues to stare as we both catch our breath. It’s as though he can read my truth like a book, the words pouring straight from my head. A strong hand squeezes around my biceps and I whirl to face Micah, his eyes careful.
“Come with me.” My gaze flickers back to Damien, and his lips are still curled into that sarcastic, irritating smirk. My temper explodes again, and I’m about to lash out when Micah yanks me back. “Now.”
“Take a break and get your tempers under control,” he calls over his shoulder as he leads me out of the room like a chastised child. Not sparing a glance at them, he drags me into the space I’ve been using as an office over the past few weeks and slams the door behind us.
“What was that all about?” he hisses, shoving me against the wall and towering over me. He throws his shoulders back, his eyes crackling as his wings flare wide. They almost take up the entire room, twitching in his agitation. Instinct tells me to cower to him, to submit, but I know my angel won’t hurt me.
“He was insulting you!” I hiss back, and his lips pull into a tight frown.
“That doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.” His eyes soften as his posture relaxes.
“You can’t let them get to you like this,” he whispers, reaching up to brush his fingertips over my cheek. “I’m used to it.”
“Well, you shouldn’t be. They don’t even know you.”
“Neither did you, when this started.” My eyes narrow into a scowl as he chuckles, and the lightness of the sound eases a fraction of my stress. “While I appreciate you coming to my rescue, I’m afraid there’s no changing their behavior. People have hated me as long as I can remember. This is nothing new.”
“I don’t hate you,” I whisper, and those heavy lashes flutter as he leans in and brushes his lips over mine.
“I know you don’t, and that’s all that matters. But you shouldn’t pick fights with your friends over me. I’m not worth it.” He presses his mouth to mine right as my heart breaks, realizing he actually believes what he said. To him, those words are absolute truth.
“You are worth it,” I insist, and I interrupt his objection with a nip of my teeth, forcing his lips apart as I kiss him deeper. “Don’t listen to them, okay? Let me prove them wrong.”
He hesitates, and for a second, the thin veil that covers those emotions buried in the deepest, most secret parts of him slips. I see the scars he carries, the emotional weight of his isolated existence.
And I want to take it all away. Protect him from himself.
“I got something for you.” His eyes snap to mine, confusion mixing with his curiosity.
“Why?”
“What do you mean,why? Has no one ever given you a gift simply because they were thinking about you?”
“No,” he whispers as the last bits of that veil that he clings to are ripped away. A storm of emotions pours out of him. His vulnerability is exposed to me in raw, heartbreaking detail.
“Oh, angel,” I whisper, pulling him in for another long kiss, his unsteady lips shaky against mine.
His sigh breezes over my mouth as he pushes our foreheads together. I reach into my pocket and pull out a square, flat hinged box and press it into his palm. “You asking me to marry you, demon?” he teases, a false bravado to his voice that I don’t call him out on.
“Don’t flatter yourself, angel.”
