Michaela stood outside the toolshed. The hint of a breeze pressed against her cheek but did not blow. The trees’ small budding leaves leaned against their slender stems, caught in between movements. The air was quiet, still. Clark lay in the car, feet propped on the dashboard, drool suspended from his bottom lip. Time paused, and she managed to channel Gabriel.

Michaela heard a sharp intake of breath behind her. She pivoted, slicing through the thick air. Gabriel, blinking in surprise, reclined against the shed wall. She smiled. Immediately the tension in her shoulders eased. She walked to him and sank to the ground.

“You’re getting better at channeling,” Gabriel commented. He took her hand in his. Michaela noted the new claw marks.

“It took me a while to get you here,” she said. She rocked her head back against the wall so she saw into his eyes, which she was glad to see were once again their normal warm gold. After their last encounter, she didn’t know what to expect. Understanding, he squeezed her hand.

“I’m glad you did,” he said, and Michaela knew he meant it. She breathed a sigh of relief.

He leaned over. Her eyes fluttered closed, and her lips parted, freeing a shaky breath. His lips met hers softly for the briefest of kisses, but it was enough to send her stomach clenching in spasms. She smiled at him again when he drew back. The warmth from his hand seeped into hers.

“Where are we?” Gabriel asked, glancing around.

The moment had passed too quickly, taking Michaela’s brief happiness with it. “Zarachiel is in there. It’s bad, Gabe.” She watched Gabriel’s face carefully. His lips twitched, and his eyes hardened slightly.

“What happened?”

Michaela glanced down. She fought to keep the racking guilt she felt from her voice. “Abel took his wings and threw him to Earth. Luckily, Isaac found him before anyone else.”

“How is he?” Gabriel’s voice was as tight as his tense body.

“Not good,” Michaela said, staring at the ground. “He is conscious enough to speak, but I can’t understand him. Sometimes his body jerks, like he is flinching away from something. They burnt all his feathers off…I think he is too weak to even heal himself.”

Gabriel stayed quiet when Michaela finished. Their shoulders were pressed together. His grip on her hand was tight.

“Abel left me a message in Zarachiel’s skin,” Michaela said. She leaned her head against Gabriel’s bare shoulder, seeking comfort. “He asked if I was proud. I always regretted taking Lucifer’s wings. Abel knew how it tortured me. I even went to him for advice, asking if he thought the punishment fit, because he was the leader of the Aethere. He was the only angel who would know if I acted incorrectly. He knew I hated myself for what I did to Lucifer. He’s using it against me, to punish me.”

They were silent a long time. The sky was a dark orange above the treetops, stuck between twilight and night. It was beautiful, Michaela noted, but she didn’t appreciate it. She grew tired of channeling Gabriel and never really seeing him. His dream self was not enough to sustain her.

“I don’t know what to do,” she breathed.

“I’ve told you how I feel about this,” Gabriel said. Michaela heard his anger.

“I know.”

“This never should have happened,” Gabriel said quietly, angrily. He ground his teeth together.

Michaela jerked like he had slapped her. She reeled back, staring at him with shocked eyes. “Gabe, I know. But I can’t keep Abel from hurting angels.”

With a growl, Gabriel shoved to his feet. Michaela deserved his anger. It was her fault Zarachiel was hurt. She knew it, but to hear the words, to see them even in his eyes, would crush her. Michaela stood behind him, trembling not with anger but in fear of what he would say. He was careful, though. Nothing crossed his face except for scorching anger.

“Damn it,” Gabriel snarled. He surged toward her. “I don’t want to talk about this now.”

He pulled her against him before she even registered his motions. His hand raked through her hair, clenching it in his fist at the base of her skull. His other hand gripped her hip, pressing her into him. With a tug that bordered on painful, he pulled her hair so that she stared, wide eyed and mouth agape, at his face.

It was a storm—a hot, out-of-nowhere storm—that fried lands and flooded rivers. He was a tornado sucking her into him. His golden eyes sparked as he stared at her, making her insides quiver and melt. Her arms shook, her knees knocked when his jaw clenched, forming rivets up the side of his tanned face. Even her teeth threatened to chatter from desire. He snarled, diving toward her face like he might consume her whole. She gasped, but he covered the sound with his mouth.

He was relentless. He poured himself into her, and Michaela only held on. Her lips swelled beneath his onslaught. When his tongue stroked hers, she moaned at the wild, uncontrolled taste of him that she had never had before, not like this. His breaths were shaking gulps in her mouth.

He worked his hand underneath the hem of her thin t-shirt, scrapping his fingers up her ribcage. She shook uncontrollably when the roughness of his hand found her sensitive nipple. He squeezed, making her gasp again.

It took Michaela a moment to notice he had pulled away. She opened her eyes and felt a clench deep inside when she saw the expression on his face. “All I want is you,” he said the words like a deep throated growl.

He pulled her hair again, bending her neck even farther so her body bowed into his. His hardness pressed against her belly. His lips were on her neck, sending shivers down her spine, and her fingers were numb from digging into his back. She whimpered.

The sound undid him. He let her hair go. His other hand lifted from her back. Surprised, Michaela opened her eyes once again. He had his fingers on the band of her jeans, waiting. He was finally asking for permission.

She nodded. Or at least she thought she did.

He yanked. The material of Clark’s worn out jeans ripped violently, shredding into a million pieces. The zipper screeched with a metallic resistance. What was left of her pants fell to her calves in tattered pieces.

“You’re not wearing underwear.” Gabriel’s voice was husky and deep.

Blushing, Michaela said, “I don’t have any.”

Gabriel groaned and sank his lips onto hers again. His fingers found the spot between her legs. His explorations made Michaela’s body convulse. She had never been touched like that before, and the sensations burned deep in her belly, searing her from the inside out. The noises he made her make were foreign to her ears. She sank into his hand, her knees giving way.

He caught her. Like she was a feather drifting in front of him, he lifted her. She wrapped her legs around his hips. His eyes were searing flames, like she stared straight into the center of fire without blinking.

“Keep your eyes open the whole time,” he commanded. His voice was hot an inch from her mouth.

A while later they lay on the ground. Michaela was draped over him, naked and still breathing heavily. His arm was wrapped lazily around her. “Are you okay?” Gabriel asked. He spoke into her hair, tickling strands across her ear.

“Yeah,” she said with a rasp in her voice. She lifted her head and smiled at him.

“I’m sorry it was a little…rough,” Gabriel said sheepishly. His smile was tentative and slightly crooked, but extremely pleased. “I probably should have slowed down for our first time.”

Michaela blushed, ducking her head down onto his chest. Gabriel traced his finger along the scars on her back. Goose bumps prickled along her arms.

“When I wake up,” Michaela said, her eyelids drifting closed, “will my jeans be shredded?”

She felt his laughter beneath her chest. It was nice, to find the laughter in something. It almost made her forget that in reality, she was holding Zarachiel and not Gabriel.

“They will be fine,” he answered, smiling.

They laid there, tangled together, for a while longer. Michaela found she couldn’t stop smiling. Gabriel had been her best friend since her creation, but she had never felt as close to him as she did right then. The guilt she felt earlier receded, because, surely, this was not a sin.

Gabriel’s chest tightened beneath her. She heard his mouth open as though he meant to ask her something. Yet, he never did.

“What is it?” she asked finally.

Gabriel cleared his throat. Michaela realized he was uncomfortable. His hand stilled on her back. “Nothing is happening between you and the Descendant, right?” he asked.

“Clark?” Michaela laughed. Gabriel returned her gaze like he didn’t think it was funny. His eyes were simmering with worry and possibly jealousy. “No, he is just a friend—a really good friend, actually.”

“Good. I’m glad,” Gabriel said. He relaxed beneath her, lowering his head. He let out a breath.

“You’re glad about what? Nothing happening, or that he is my friend?”

“Both.” Gabriel grinned.

They stayed like that for a while, holding each other and making the other smile. Even Gabriel’s finger on her ruined back didn’t make her anxious. They talked as though they hadn’t in a while. No one grew angry; no one made accusations. They were like they always had been. But it wasn’t true. They had changed their relationship irrevocably.

Michaela finally lifted her head. The pull of consciousness hummed in the back of her skull. She thought she heard something like a shout from the distance. If she looked close enough, she almost saw the edges of the orchard folding into itself as the dream withered away. Gabriel noticed it too. He sat up, brushing Michaela’s hair from her eyes.

She couldn’t help but smile. It was easy with Gabriel. Words bubbled up, forming a sentence deep within her throat. Her heart clenched with nerves.

“Gabe, I lov—”

But she never got to finish.