Rain dripped through the abandoned greenhouse’s shattered roof, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and wildflowers overtaking forgotten walls. Claire traced her fingers over a fractured clay pot, wishing she could turn back time. Across the room, Nikolai’s eyes locked on hers, golden in a way that wasn’t human. He had once been an angel, but now his wings were invisible scars on his back, his fall from grace a price for loving her too deeply.
“We shouldn’t be here,” he said, though not as a warning. His voice carried regret and longing. “Every moment I stay, I risk them finding us.”
She wanted to demand who “they” were, why his presence in her life sent shadows skittering over her at twilight, but his nearness consumed her. He stepped closer, rain dripping along his collarbone. Her breath hitched; she sensed his heart beating, a rhythm unbound by earthly rules.
“I’d risk it all,” Claire whispered, trembling with the knowledge she meant it. But the ancient law he broke to love her clung to them like chains, as unrelenting as the rain falling around them.
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