Ezekiel knew he should’ve paid better attention to his mom. If he had, finding himself in the unfathomable Abaddon might have been a little easier to deal with. Zeke might have understood what he was about to face.<br><br>Instead he’s faced with the angel Haziel at the end of a sword, stuck in an existence he doesn’t know how to navigate, heading toward a war humanity had no knowledge of.<br><br>Haziel promises to see him safely through the battlefield. Along the way Zeke finds purpose and courage, grace and depravity. At his journey’s end, will Zeke want to leave his angel behind when the time comes?

Dandelion

Haziel seemed fine with that for a long time. Maybe Zeke wasn’t paying much attention to how long Haziel worked him open, twisting and prying him apart with a syrupy slow speed. He did know that it was long enough to leave deep dents in the angel’s biceps from his grasping hands and his lips raw from the kisses Haziel bestowed on him, hard like a stone.


More oil coated the probing fingers. They pushed in for one last thorough stretch and then Haziel pulled away. Zeke grumbled, tried to hold him close instead. The angel smiled, a predator, as he stood up to his full height.


“Come on, Haz,” Zeke bowed up as he tried to entice his companion back to the hammock. It sorta worked, but not as well as it did on a real bed.


The smile broadened into warm affection, though he did not resume his original position. He wrapped oily hands around Zeke’s hips and wrangled him into a slightly different position, a better angle, with Zeke’s ass hanging in the air. Oh. Zeke was happy to let him.


Chapter 47