Free Her Dark Angel by Felicity Heaton Page A

but she needed to rest. She had been through so much recently and he had seen how it had affected her. Her smile had disappeared but he had brought it back and it felt as though he had made the sun shine again.
    Apollyon pressed a light kiss to her forehead and gently removed her hands from his arm. She murmured a quiet protest, wrinkled her nose, and huddled down into the covers. He left the bed and pulled the covers up to her shoulders, tucking her in.
    He waved his hand over himself, putting his black loincloth back in place, and padded quietly from the bedroom and through the living room to the kitchen. It was darker in the small kitchen and dining room. The sun didn’t reach around this side of the building. His shoulders itched and he rolled them, trying to ease the tension building there. His wings wanted to come out. He hadn’t confined them for this long in millennia. He hadn’t needed to. Sleeping on them had been painful and it had taken a lot of effort to get them to disappear. Serenity seemed to like him without wings. It had made whatever reservations she had about him disappear anyway.
    She thought angels were saints.
    He had definitely disproven that theory last night.
    He smiled, lifted the latch on the French doors, and walked out onto the balcony.
    The sun was high and shone down on his back when he reached the black railings around the balcony, warming his skin until his tension melted away. He sighed and his wings unfurled with a strong flap, spreading out to stretch across the length of the balcony. It felt good to release them for a while. He would put them away again before Serenity woke. He didn’t want to scare her off now that he was making progress with her. He wasn’t sure if the sight of his wings would do that but he didn’t want to risk it.
    Did his fellow warriors have this problem?
    He wished there was one nearby so he could speak to them about it.
    Apollyon stared out over the grey slate roofs of the Paris suburb. There was a leafy avenue below, hidden in the shade. The quiet sound of cars passing cut the silence, adding a background noise to it that made the whole world feel peaceful.
    His fellow warriors probably hadn’t fallen for a witch.
    A smile tugged at his lips again. A witch. She worried about what people would make of him if they could see his black wings. What would they make of her if they knew that she possessed powers that were only real in most humans’ imaginations?
    “Mmm, there you are.” Her voice was hushed, lazy and full of happiness that he could feel in her. He closed his eyes when she ran her hands up his back to his shoulders and stroked the start of his wings.
    Damn, that felt good.
    Apollyon kept still, enjoying the feel of her hands running over his feathers and not wanting to scare her away. She giggled when he folded his wings, the sound light in the air. His smile widened. She skimmed her hands down the outside of his wings, teasing his flight feathers, her touch light and soothing.
    “I wish I had wings,” she whispered.
    He turned slowly to face her. “You do?”
    She nodded and cast a glance over them. “They’re beautiful. If I had wings, I’d never stop flying.”
    “You are beginning to sound like an angel. We love nothing more than to fly.”
    “Really? Nothing more than flying?” Her lips curved into a smile and a hint of colour touched her cheeks. “Could have fooled me.”
    He grinned at her insinuation. He loved that too, but flying had a special place in his heart, as it did with all angels. Taking her up last night, standing atop the Eiffel Tower with her, had been magical and had made him realise just how deeply he had missed flying when he had been stuck in Hell. He hadn’t wanted to leave, could have stayed there all night with her in his arms, tucked safely in his wings, but she had been cold and kissing her had become too tempting.
    “Come inside and I’ll find us some breakfast.” She walked towards the doors.
    His