Archangel’s Enigma (Guild Hunter #8)(136)
Author: Nalini Singh

“Please,” her mother said, leading Alexander into the formal receiving area, elegant and hung with priceless artworks.

It took Andromeda a few minutes to realize both Lailah and Cato were intimidated by Alexander.

“Your daughter put her life on the line to save mine,” Alexander was saying, his body clad in the clothes of a warrior, the colors charcoal gray and stark black. “I’m not a man who forgets such things.”

“She has always been strong, always had a will more formidable than many an adult.”

Astonished and startled at the pride she heard in her mother’s tone, Andromeda stared at her, but Lailah had already returned her attention to Alexander. Her face was fine boned in profile, her smooth skin of dark honey flawless, and her tightly curled hair worn in a graceful updo.

Beside Lailah, Cato appeared ghostly pale, his skin having never held the warmth of the sun and his eyes a washed-out blue that were nonetheless haunting in their beauty. Fine blond hair fell to his shoulders, his face one that many an artist had sketched. They always drew him as an innocent.

“Yes,” Alexander said into the small quiet that had fallen. “Your child is strong for one of her age and has enough courage to shoot a crossbow at one archangel to save another.” A faint smile. “It is for that reason I would like her in my new court.”

Andromeda froze.

Naasir.

He’d done this. Somehow, her sneaky, smart mate had done this.

Across from Alexander, her parents’ faces had gone slack. Her mother was the first to recover, her golden brown eyes huge. “You wish our daughter to be one of your courtiers?”

“I do not have courtiers as such.” Alexander’s tone was cool. “However, I do have warriors and scholars in my inner circle. And I must rebuild my court after so many of them were murdered fighting alongside my son.”

A chill filled the room, Alexander’s power suddenly an agonizing pressure against Andromeda’s eardrums, his wings having taken on a glow no one wanted to witness. Not because it wasn’t glorious—oh, it was—but because archangels generally glowed right before they meted out death, vicious and final.

“I am honored,” Andromeda said when it appeared her parents had been struck dumb. “A position in an Ancient’s court is usually never offered to an angel so young.”

Alexander’s lips curved, and at that instant, she could see the “beautiful warrior” written of in stories of his reign. But she couldn’t see him as a man, for in his eyes, she saw such age that it threatened to crush. She didn’t know what woman would ever be able to handle the sheer power of him. Caliane? But Caliane was famously still in love with the mate she’d been forced to execute.

No one else on the planet was Alexander’s equal in power and age.

“Ah, but you are not usual, are you, scholar?” Alexander’s eyes locked with hers. “Not many people would dare tell a Sleeping Ancient to ‘Listen, damn you!’”

As her parents choked on appalled disbelief, Andromeda found herself smiling. “In my defense, I was trying to save your life and you were being terribly arrogant and bad-tempered.”

Throwing back his head, Alexander laughed, the sound filling the room in a way that made her understand why he had a friendship with Titus. The Archangel of Southern Africa also laughed with such open and unalloyed delight when amused.

“Yes,” Alexander said afterward, “you are not usual, Andromeda.” Smile yet on his lips, he turned to her parents. “I’m informed your child is tied by a blood vow, that she cannot accept my offer.”

“Oh,” her father said in an awed tone. “If you would give us a moment, we will speak to the Archangel Charisemnon. He is the only one who can release her.”

Neither Andromeda nor Alexander said a word while her parents were out of the room. For Andromeda, there was too much at stake, and the Ancient likely had other concerns on his mind. Like rebuilding his palace and reclaiming his territory. He didn’t have time to come all this way to offer Andromeda a place in his court, no matter what role she’d played in saving his life. Not to mention it was a security risk, given his weakened state.

How had Naasir done this?

Stifling her curiosity and trying not to allow her hope to burn too bright, she waited. When her mother walked back into the room, Lailah said, “Andromeda, your grandfather would like to speak to you in the study.”

Andromeda excused herself and went quickly to the room with the large screen that currently hosted Charisemnon’s ravaged visage—shadowed in a way to make it seem he bore no scars. Her father left the instant she entered. “Sire,” she said on a deep bow. “You have heard?”