Her Angel: Bound Warriors Book Bundle

Serenity’s eyes widened and she stepped back when the mountain of a man standing before her drew the sword that hung at his waist. He had changed his mind and was going to kill her after all. She told herself to run, but her body locked up, refusing to cooperate, so she could only stare at him and await her demise.

She wasn’t sure what to think when he eased himself down onto one knee in front of her, lowered his head, and held his sword out to her, the hilt and tip of the beautiful blade resting on his upturned palms.

“I am yours to command.” His French was perfect, making his deep voice so sexy that a shiver tripped over her skin whenever he spoke.

Was she supposed to do something?

People were staring again as they passed. What did they see? They certainly weren’t seeing a man offering a sword to her, that was for sure. To them, did he look as though he was kneeling with his hands raised in supplication?

Was he dressed in black and gold armour that didn’t leave much to the imagination?

Did he have huge black feathered wings?

She imagined that he didn’t. If he did, the people would probably be screaming rather than merely glancing at him as though he had gone insane.

“Erm, okay.” Serenity hesitated before touching the sword. The gleaming steel was cold beneath her fingers. She snatched her hand back, not liking the feel of it, and muttered, “Thanks.”

He stood with grace, his muscles shifting beneath his golden skin, and she tried not to stare at his physique. Either he worked out a lot, or angels were naturally endowed with the body of a god.

He was pure perfection as he stood close to her, his broad chest rising and falling, moving the beautifully decorated black breastplate. His stomach was bare, taut muscles delighting her hungry eyes, and pointed strips of obsidian edged with gold encircled his lean hips over a black loincloth, barely protecting his modesty.

Something that she was lacking.

She forced her gaze onwards, taking in the toned length of his legs, from his muscular thighs to the plates that protected his shins. They were as powerful as the rest of him.

Her eyes roamed back up, over the black cuffs that covered his forearms, decorated in gold with images of lions, and over his bare biceps to his strong shoulders. From there, they wanted to go to his face, but his wings were too fascinating. They were huge, casting a shadow across both him and her despite the fact they were tucked against his back.

She wanted to walk around him and investigate every delicious inch of him, taking in that he really was an angel and not a man parading as one.

An angel.

Abaddon.

Her mother had taught her gods, goddesses and mythology. She knew all about him and his kind.

Her eyes finally leaped to his face, a need to see in his vivid blue eyes that he was telling the truth racing through her again. She found the reassurance she needed, together with something else to fascinate her. He had flecks of paler blue, like ice, in his irises.

His lips tilted at the corners, and she had the strangest sensation that her appraisal was making him nervous. He didn’t show it though. His gaze held hers, unwavering and strong, and her temperature rose as his eyes narrowed slightly and his pupils dilated.

What was he thinking in there?

Did he like what he saw as much as she did?

The man was a god.

No, an angel.

And he was beautiful.

Breathtaking.

But he wasn’t at all as she had thought an angel would look. Everything about him spoke of darkness, right down to his aura. Whatever power he had, it was strong and it wasn’t the sort that resurrected mortals or healed them. It felt as though the opposite would happen if he unleashed it.

Abaddon. The angel of death. Although he had denied that title. What title did he claim as his then?

“So, Abaddon—” she started.

“Apollyon,” he interjected with a charming smile that teased his sensual lips and made her heart beat a little faster.

He was an angel. Serenity reminded herself of that ten times over and then once more to make it stick.

It didn’t matter how good he looked, or how he was making her forget her pain just by looking at him, she couldn’t think about him like that. It was wrong of her. He had offered his assistance in getting revenge on her bastard ex and she was going to take it. Whatever dark power this gorgeous man had, she was going to let it rip in her ex’s direction and reclaim her dignity and her property.

“Apollyon?” She barely stopped her gaze from dropping down to take him in again.

If she told him to put on something a little less distracting, would he be able to do it? She had seen through whatever spell he had used. Could he ever fool her eyes?

“I prefer my true name.” He cast a quick glance over her.

His eyes lingered in all the places a mortal man’s would and flames ignited in her blood, making it burn and threatening to turn all of her restraint to ashes. She cleared her throat, causing his eyes to leap back up to meet hers, and reined in her wicked feelings.

The banked heat in his eyes lingered, making her question everything.

Surely, she was off limits too? Angels were asexual, weren’t they? Androgynous? Whatever the one was that meant he had no sexual feelings. Zero libido.

The voice at the back of her mind said that the tall hunk of handsome standing in front of her definitely didn’t look asexual or androgynous. He looked like sin incarnate, not like an angel at all.

“Serenity.” She offered her hand to him.

He took it and a jolt ran through her the moment his strong hand engulfed hers. She quickly shook his hand but he didn’t let go when she was done. He held it, his thumb resting lightly against hers.

“My mother thought I could bring peace to a chaotic world,” she said absently, her heart thundering as she stared at his thumb. It grazed hers, stroked it in a way that sent a hot shiver tripping through her and had those wicked thoughts returning. She tried to banish them, fought to focus on anything but him. He made it impossible when he took his hand back, his fingers brushing her palm and sending another shiver through her. “I’m not much good at it.”

“At what?” He quirked a dark eyebrow and tilted his head to one side.

Serenity sighed inside. Did he know how good he looked? Could angels be conceited? She supposed they were all beautiful so he probably didn’t realise that the reason all the women were staring as they passed wasn’t because they thought he was apprehending her or anything of the sort.

They were staring for the same reason she was.

The man was six feet plus of godliness.

“Being peaceful... I’m actually quite chaotic.” She shrugged. “Nothing I do comes out right. I mean... I thought I was casting a simple spell for vengeance and suddenly you’re here telling me that you heard me calling you. I wasn’t asking for an angel.”

“You weren’t.” He placed his palm flat against her chest and she jumped. Her pulse rocketed and she blushed from head to toe at the feel of his wrist against her breasts. “Your heart called me, not your words.”

Serenity smiled, caught hold of his hand with trembling fingers and removed it from her chest before she lost control and threw herself at him.

“So you’re good with revenge?” She released his hand, ignoring the buzz that lingered, vibrating in her chest in the spot where his hand had been.

“Very good at it.” He stood taller, straightening to his full impressive height, looking even more noble and handsome. “I am Apollyon, the great destroyer, king of the bottomless—”

“Wait.” She held her hands up. “Great destroyer? Maybe this isn’t such a good idea. I mean, you’re an angel and your boss-on-high would probably be a little upset if you blew up half of Paris to fulfil my wish for revenge, and I don’t want him dead... just in pain... and I can really take care of this myself. I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“It is little bother.” He frowned. “I will only do as you command. The choice of revenge will be yours and I will exact it.”

“What about your boss?” She didn’t want to piss God off.

No more than she probably already did anyway.

Most witches she had met believed that whatever higher power existed, it was fairly angry that people like them existed on Earth, those that could use magic and make their own miracles.

Not that she had managed anything like that so far. She was better at lighting candles and the small stuff like love potions. Her life as a witch was one big cliché, but it paid the bills.

Serenity glanced up at Apollyon. Would a love potion work on an angel?

She cursed and told herself to get a grip. Angels probably couldn’t enter into relationships with mortals and this attraction to him was purely because she was rebounding, and she was rebounding hard. What better way to get over a man than to find another one? She shook that thought away. It wasn’t her style. None of this was.

Maybe she should just put an end to this before it began and send him home, wherever that was.

“You are my master now.” The serious edge to his expression said that he wasn’t joking. “I do as you bid.”

Serenity’s eyebrows rose as she slowly absorbed the fact that she had her own personal angel and the thought of telling him to go home drifted into the background.

Maybe just a little revenge.

She did need to get her property back after all.