The end is coming. The date has been set. But Ran, who has witnessed millennia of existence and fallen in love with humanity, cannot allow that to happen without a fight.
After betraying his Brothers and joining Hell’s ranks, Ran lived a short time among humans, awaiting the oncoming war. That is until his former lover shows up at his door, ready to kill him. Or so Ran thinks. Armon, desperate to understand why Ran left, why he turned his back on his duty and on him, offers Ran a final chance to persuade him humans are worth saving.
With so little hope and even less time, can Ran justify his betrayal before the morning brings annihilation?
Ran clenched his fists, ready for what was to come. He glared into the light as it diminished to expose the imposing figure dominating the doorway. The large mane of tarnished gold hair was as familiar to Ran as the light emanating from him, as were the pale blue eyes ringed with feather soft golden lashes.
“Armon.” Ran’s voice came out as little less than a breath.
Heart rendering elation gave way to cold fear as he took in the golden armor encasing Armon’s powerful body. There was only one reason Armon would have come after him.
This was it. Ran would meet his end before the battle had even begun.
Ran swallowed. The ache in his heart was the worst agony he had ever experienced, but he met Armon’s hard gaze with a smile on his lips. He would not show regret.
Armon’s expression was grim, his jaw tight and his brows knotted in fury. “So it’s true.” The accusation in Armon’s voice added to Ran’s pain.
“I’m glad it’s you,” Ran said.
Armon’s mouth twisted into a snarl. A tear rolled down his cheek.
“It’s all right. I’m ready.” Even as he said it, his throat tightened and he flinched when Armon stepped forward. His plate armor clanked noisily, disrupting the late evening’s near silence.
Ran readied to defend, to fight, but knew he stood no chance of defeating Armon one on one. Armon had always been a better fighter. But the true reason Ran would lose was that Ran had no wish to fight him. The irony stung, knowing that had always been a possibility, but Ran found himself smiling again as Armon stepped close.
Expecting to feel a blade plunge into his gut, Ran gasped when Armon gathered him into his arms. His grip was crushing. The gold of Armon’s breast plate was warm against Ran’s cheek. Armon was shaking. He pressed his face to Ran’s hair.
“Why?” Armon growled.
Armon smelled of salty wind, blown in from the sea. Ran hadn’t known that, would not have been able to put a name to the scent had he not come here, had he not visited a beach and breathed in the briny air. Ran inhaled deeply. “Armon.” He said the name like a broken prayer.
The small overlapping plates of Armon’s gauntleted fingers traced a shivery line along Ran’s cheek and jaw. His lips.
“Raniel.” He pressed his mouth to Ran’s.
Ran jolted, his body seizing, just for a moment. Then he fell into Armon’s kiss, his arms, rejoicing at being able to taste and feel him one last time.
