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  Winged Passion

  HEAVEN’S HEART, BOOK THREE

  AMANDA PILLAR

  About Winged Passion

  Once an angel, now a blood slave.

  Seraphina would do anything to protect her fellow Darts—even become a blood slave. But can an angel survive living in the depths of Hell, surrounded by demonic killers?

  Trick’s entire life is a lie, which is exactly how he likes it. Ruler of the Halcyon Guild, he is one of the most powerful demons in Hell. But for the first time in centuries, he’s been outwitted—and by a damned angel.

  His bad luck doesn’t end there. Hades has a mission for the guild: one only Trick and Seraphina can complete. The catch—they have to complete it within a week or their lives will be forfeit.

  Can Seraphina and Trick set aside centuries of prejudice and work together, or will their pride see them both destroyed?

  Contents

  About Winged Passion

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  More by Amanda Pillar

  About Amanda

  Dedication

  To Hayley—sister of the heart.

  Chapter 1

  Seven months earlier...

  “I love your strength, your loyalty, and your beauty. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” Paschar’s cerulean-blue eyes gleamed with passion, his voice low and intense. His musician’s hand clasped Seraphina’s, his grip tight, fervent. His wings arched behind him, their pure white feathers soft as the finest silk.

  Emotion clogged Seraphina’s throat. She’d been waiting for this day for years. Decades, even. Ever since she had asked Paschar to marry her, and he had kindly and reluctantly refused, she had bided her time, waiting for him to be ready. She had her role in the military, he explained, and he was busy creating music for their race.

  What has changed?

  She met Paschar’s bright gaze, noting the brilliance of his golden hair, the perfectly chiseled jaw, the confident manner in which he held himself.

  Her voice soft, gentle, she said, “I love you, too.”

  She had been in love with him for what felt like forever. They had been lovers for five decades, and yet this was the first truly ardent declaration he had ever made her.

  God had spoken true when he’d said patience was a virtue.

  Over the arch of Paschar’s wings, the sparse walls of her room were an inadequate frame for such a moment; her bed, nightstand and bookshelf spoke of austerity, rather than rich emotion. Such a grand moment needed an equally grand setting.

  This will have to do.

  It was all she had, after all. Warriors were noble of spirit, and poor of material possessions. One could not be weighed down by pesky things such as covetousness or jealously if one never had much to begin with.

  Paschar smiled, satisfaction underlying the expression. “I knew you would agree to marry me.”

  You didn’t actually ask.

  She opened her mouth to point that out, but he spoke first; “Before we marry, I must admit that my family has a secret shame.” He glanced at the ground, his mouth set in a grim line.

  Seraphina paused, then withdrew her hand slowly. Why had he not spoken of this before? More than half a century together, and this was the first time he talked of family problems? She had told him all of her secrets—not that there were many.

  When he didn’t elaborate, she patted him on the leg. “I am listening.”

  He jerked his head up, stare narrowing. “You already judge me.”

  “No, I do not judge; that is for God. I just wonder why you have waited so long to tell me. You know I will never hold your family’s actions against you.”

  “I had to be sure of your feelings—of your commitment to me—first.”

  Like she had failed to make that plain before.

  “I love you, you can hear the truth in my words.”

  Being angels, they had an in-built lie-detector. He would know if she falsely professed love, if she didn’t feel it. And how could she not, when confronted with the force of nature that was Paschar?

  He was given to great emotions; everything was wonderful, or everything was dreadful. It could be exhausting at times, but it was part of why she loved him: he was intensity and desire and fierceness. Sometimes it made him highly strung, but she had chosen to love him, flaws as well as perfections.

  He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I had a brother, Cassiel.”

  Surprise shot through her. Did he think she wouldn’t have heard of Cassiel? Did he believe her that naïve?

  Paschar had always been spoken of as if he were an only child, but it was not uncommon for parents to choose to renounce fallen children—to act as if that child had never been born. And she’d been aware that Paschar’s mother had had a fallen child from a previous union.

  “He was a liar and a cheat. He deliberately flaunted Heaven’s rules and was banished for the act. My parents have never gotten over the shame—but this happened a long time ago. I was barely fifty years old.

  “His wings were excised, and he was expelled from Heaven, never to return.” Something mean and hard twisted Paschar’s expression for a moment, before his face smoothed back to its normal handsomeness.

  “I have heard of Cassiel,” she said. “He aided a demon, did he not?”

  Cassiel’s fall had happened before her birth. It had been rarely talked about, but every now and then, the story of the angel who would rather help a demon than kill it was used to warn young angels about the folly of compassion for any Hell-spawn.

  Still, was it a crime worthy of being cast out?

  No, do not think such things. The archangels speak the word of God. They would only do what is just, what is fair.

  Paschar seemed to be waiting for her to say something.

  “I am so sorry your family had to go through that. You must have missed your brother at the time.”

  “Missed a traitor?” Paschar’s words were short, clipped. “No. But you are kind to think of such a thing. Always thinking the best of people. It is a trait I admire.”

  Truth. But not the whole truth.

  Was he being sarcastic?

  “But why wait to tell me such a thing until now?” she asked.

  “Because I could not bear for you to think less of me.” He took hold of her hand again. “Do you?”

  “Of course not.” It was not his behavior that had resulted in Heaven’s laws being broken, but his brother’s, although, she did wish he had trusted her before now. It was something they could have worked through, together.

  He gave her a soft kiss on the cheek, the press of his lips fl
eeting. “Our marriage will not impact your placement in the Darts?”

  “No. Dina has made it clear that my position is secure.”

  Seraphina had once been a scout for the archangel Gabriel, but had recently been made a member of an elite squadron run by a fierce warrior-angel called Dina. Together, the six Darts protected Heaven’s Heart, one of angelkind’s most treasured possessions.

  “Excellent. I am so glad they awarded you such an esteemed role. It has been the talk of the town for years.” Satisfaction glimmered in Paschar’s eyes. “With your placement, and my talent, nothing will stop us rising together as stars. Nothing.”

  *

  Seraphina flinched as the archangel Michael laid a heavy hand on Azrael’s shoulder. The pair of them kneeled beside two other Darts on the charred and ash-smeared ground before the Inner Sanctum, the former home of Heaven’s Heart. The door to the sacred chamber had been blasted open and the scent of blood and ozone was thick in the air.

  The Celestial City had been breached by demons and now Heaven’s Heart was missing, as were its on-duty guards, Dina and Zadkiel.

  Michael spoke quietly, but fury saturated his every word. “You will all be punished for this.”

  On their knees before him, Raziel, Yael, Azrael and Seraphina bowed their heads.

  “Do you know who breached the walls?” Raziel asked.

  “At this stage, it does not matter who attacked us,” Michael replied.

  Surprise seared through her. How could it not be important? They needed to rescue Dina and Zadkiel—to restore the Heart. Knowing the identity of their attackers was but the first step in what would no doubt be a long journey.

  “Heaven’s Heart has been stolen. Do you understand what you’ve all done?”

  Nothing, she thought. We’ve done nothing.

  Only two angels were required to protect the Heart at any given time—this had been decreed by the archangels themselves. The Darts took turns, rotating so that the Inner Sanctum was never unguarded. Seraphina had not been in the hall; it would have been impossible for her to provide assistance.

  “Sire,” Raziel murmured, “if you will let us search, we will find the Heart and bring it back.”

  Michael’s long brown hair swung over his shoulder, the braid brushing over his robes as he moved. His eyes were pure white, with no iris or pupil, and massive wings soared over his shoulders, their white expanse thickly threaded with gold—the marker that he was an archangel. “Oh, you will search for the Heart,” he said. “But first, you must pay the price for your failure.” A huge sword appeared in his right hand, the blade gleaming.

  Seraphina’s mind went blank as panic gripped her. Automatically, she went to stand, but magic kept her on her knees, rooted to the floor.

  Another archangel strode in front of them; Uriel in his golden robe, his ebony skin glinting with blue highlights. A pulse of power told her that more archangels had arrived. Fear pounded in her blood.

  “Word of this will have reached all of Heaven before sunset. Examples must be made.”

  “Examples?” Seraphina hadn’t meant to speak, but the word escaped before she could stop it.

  Michael stepped closer, his white gaze pitiless. “You will all be exiled from Heaven.”

  Exiled.

  She would have to leave Paschar, her family, her friends...

  “You will only be allowed to return if you find all three pieces of the Heart and give them to us,” Michael continued.

  “All three pieces?” Yael asked.

  A short silence. “We guarded but one part of the Heart,” Michael said. “It is time all three were rejoined and stored here for safety.”

  Confusion warred with fear and hope. They could earn their way back into Heaven. She could one day fly over the Celestial City, be with her family once more.

  This was only temporary.

  They had to find all three pieces.

  “Can you give us any information on what we might seek?” Raziel asked.

  Michael shook his head. “This is a punishment. We will not help you with it.”

  “Then we shall leave at once, so we may find the stolen piece and its brethren.” Raziel’s tone was filled with purpose.

  “There is something else that must be done first,” Uriel said.

  She watched as, without warning, Azrael was shoved face-down onto the blood-stained marble floor. Seraphina gasped as a strong hand grabbed one of his wings, holding it out straight, exposing the part where the tendons met the back muscles.

  No. They would not do this...

  Then someone was pushing her forward, cracking her cheek against the ground. Rough hands grabbed her wings, and then agony burst through her, the pain so razor-sharp her vision turned gray and her heart stopped beating for a handful of seconds. Breathe, breathe, she told herself, but the air would not come, the torture relentless.

  Then it was over.

  The magic that had held her in place vanished, but she remained on the ground, panting, her skin on fire and her back screaming. Wings shot with silver threads were kicked into her line of vision, and she reached out, her shaking fingers brushing against the bloody stumps that had once joined living flesh.

  She had been an angel.

  Now she was nothing.

  Chapter 2

  Seraphina’s wings were gone. No evidence remained of her race except for the healing gashes on either side of her spine.

  White hot pain still scored her back, even though the mutilation had happened hours ago. A single, silver-threaded feather lay in her hands, the only remnant she had of her once beautiful plumage.

  The archangel Gabriel had not commented on her the feather, a treasure she was forbidden to possess, after he’d teleported the Darts to the Human Realm. Instead, he’d gently touched her shoulder, sadness in his violet eyes. Then he’d gone, abandoning them to their fate.

  Carefully, she lay the feather on the duvet next to her, before pulling her legs up to her chest, wincing as the movement stretched the healing wounds on her back.

  What was a little more discomfort?

  The room around her slowly swam into focus. Decorated with navy blue and cream tones, it was as lush and elegant as her former rooms had been spartan and ascetic. A four-poster bed dominated the space, with a mahogany desk decorated in gold leaf set diagonally across from her. A small sofa was propped against the wall to her left and a walk-in-robe and private bathroom were directly opposite.

  This room would have pleased Paschar. It was just to his taste; delicately luxurious. She’d no idea that Raziel owned such an immense property, and in the Human Realm, no less. He had explained about their accommodations after they had been exiled from Heaven, but she could barely remember what he’d said.

  It’s your new home, she thought.

  Laying her head on her arms, tears escaped, wetting her cheeks. Just hours earlier, she had thought this was one of the best days of her life. Now her dreams lay shattered around her, like the remnants of the Inner Sanctum’s door.

  At least I have Paschar. He will wait for me. He loves me.

  “How could you?!”

  She jerked upright, wiping distractedly at her cheeks.

  “Paschar?”

  Gratitude and pleasure shot through her at the sight of her lover, his beautiful wings flaring behind him, a breathtaking sweep of white against the dark blue room.

  “How could you do this to me?” he demanded, stepping forward.

  Finally, his words registered, stabbing into her like a knife wound to her kidney. “What do you mean?” She edged her legs off the bed, put her feet on the floor.

  “Look at you! You’re a disgrace. You’ve made me a laughing stock. My parents are horrified.”

  A new kind of pain beat through her. He meant every word.

  “You said you loved me, that we’d be together forever.” She felt brittle, like she might break into a million shards at any second.
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  “I can’t be with you. You’re exiled.” He paced.

  “This is not permanent,” she said. “We have been given a task, so that we can return to Heaven. If you wait—”

  “Wait? For what? For you to fail like you did today?”

  Seraphina clutched at her chest, the words tearing and scarring her heart.

  “You’re worthless to me now,” he muttered.

  Worthless.

  Had he only wanted to be with her because he’d valued her position in their society?

  Her breath seized in her lungs. She forced herself to inhale. “Then why bother coming here?”

  “I had to make sure that you wouldn’t embarrass me further by coming to meet me.”

  Embarrass him? She was the one who had lost her wings, her family, her life. “I—”

  “And just after I told you about my brother. Didn’t you think about me at all?”

  “No, no I didn’t. I was too busy having my wings cut off.” The venom in her voice made him pause. But not for long.

  “You should have considered my feelings.”

  “Really?” she spat. “When exactly should I have thought about your precious reputation? When I was learning that demons had raided Heaven? When I watched my comrades get their wings cut off? Or when I was being exiled from Heaven?”

  Paschar’s blue eyes darkened. “You should have begged for mercy! You should have denied any involvement!”

  “We weren’t involved. And the archangels were not given to mercy. You think they would have spared me if I’d mentioned your name?”

  He didn’t seem to hear her derision. “They may have.”

  What a fool. Paschar was a gifted musician, she would give him that, but he was not so popular that the archangels asked him to perform for them on a regular basis.

  “But would you have still wanted me, if they had decided to spare me alone?” she muttered.

  “Of course.”

  He was lying. She could taste it, smell it, even. Rage such as she’d never known filled her; this betrayal cut deeper than the blade that had stolen her wings.

  He’d told her he loved her. That he wanted forever with her.

  But his love was not unconditional, and therefore it was not real.