Chapter 40: A Beautiful Breach of Contract

Serenith smiles before she’s even fully awake, eyelids cracking open to a warm, hazy blur of early light, her body loose and rested in a way it hasn’t been in days.

Morning had arrived soft and golden, birdsong drifting through the canopy in layered, overlapping trills, the faint sweetness of blooming forest flowers curling through the tent flap like the world itself is trying to apologize for the night before. Somewhere nearby, dew drips off a leaf in a slow, unhurried rhythm, and for one brief, blissful moment, everything smells like peace and looks like the start of a very good day.

The haze clears from the angel’s vision as her eyes flutter.

And she finds herself practically nose to nose with a soundly sleeping Lucien, a soft, unguarded smile resting on his lips, none of the usual smugness in it, just quiet and peaceful and unfairly handsome in a way that catches her completely off guard.

She bites down on her tongue, face burning red, going stiff as a board.

Then, despite every instinct screaming at her not to, her expression softens, and the smallest, most traitorous smile starts creeping onto her own mouth instead.

Because, somewhere in the night, the two of them had migrated into a full, tangled cuddle, limbs and feathers hopelessly interlocked in the cramped space. Her wings curl protectively around them both like a feathery cocoon, one of her legs hooked over his, her face tucked into the crook of his neck like it belongs there.

It should be alarming.

Because for one, small heartbeat, it just feels... nice.

That’s when she feels the squeeze.

Then she notices his hand.

His hand is currently, comfortably, very thoroughly cupped around one of her breasts, giving it a slow, gentle, absent-minded squeeze every few seconds, fingers flexing with the unhurried rhythm of a man kneading bread in his sleep, utterly unaware of the inter-dimensional incident unfolding beneath his palm.

Her eyes burst open, glowing with holy light.

What follows is an ear-piercing squeal loud enough to send every woodland creature within a mile radius scattering in every direction.

Outside, Valgereth, elbow-deep in their dwindling food supplies, freezes mid-bite, ears pricking toward the sound. He turns toward the tent, chewing slowly, watching with the mild, delighted curiosity of a man who suspects he’s about to witness something excellent.

The tent lurches.

It rattles violently, canvas walls bulging and snapping in every direction as its occupants thrash around inside. One entire wall bowing outward under the weight of an elbow, then a wing, then something that might be a backside.

The muffled sound of Serenith’s furious shouting tangles with Lucien’s helpless, wheezy giggles and a steady stream of increasingly desperate apologies.

"It was an accident! A sleep accident! My hands have no idea what they’re doing when I’m unconscious, you have to believe me—"

"I am going to smite you."

"That’s fair, that’s completely fair, I’d probably smite me too. But, you have to—"

Then the whole thing erupts skyward.

Holy light bursts through every seam of the tent at once, blindingly bright, and the entire structure launches to the air in a single violent gust, stakes tearing free of the dirt, canvas flapping like a wounded bird before it crumples back down in a heap several feet away.

Serenith hovers in the wreckage’s place, floating a few feet off the ground, arms crossed, wings spread wide, halo blazing bright enough to cast shadows across the clearing, glaring down at Lucien with the kind of fury usually reserved for international war crimes and unpaid debts.

Lucien lies flat on his back in the dirt several feet away, blinking up at the sky, hair full of leaves, both hands raised in immediate, earnest surrender.

"It wasn’t intentional, Serenith!" he says quickly. "I get cuddly when I sleep next to something warm, it’s a documented condition! And, for the record, you were also surprisingly, extremely cuddly yourself. It wasn’t intentional. On either side, really, if you really think about."

Serenith’s face twists through several stages of scowl before settling on the deepest one available.

She scoffs, crosses her arms tighter, and turns viciously away.

"Breakfast!" she barks to the treeline.

Lucien claps his hands together and springs to his feet like nothing happened at all.

"On it! Least I can do, considering you let me sleep with you."

Off to the side, Valgereth loses it entirely, bellowing with laughter, clapping his hands together with genuine, delighted applause.

"Impressive! Truly! Two days into the journey and you two are already sleeping together." He turns to Serenith, smirking. "Honestly, angel, I expected you to last a little longer against him."

Serenith’s mouth falls open.

Her gaze flicks rapidly between the two of them, hoping for divine backup that clearly isn’t coming anytime soon.

"I am not," she says, voice climbing several octaves, "going to dignify that with a response."

"Shut up, Val, she’s much too proper for that, obviously." Lucien says, entirely too pleased with himself as he brushes dirt off his sleeves. "Nothing happened. Just some light, spontaneous, completely platonic cuddling."

Serenith bites back a scream, teeth grinding so hard it hurts, and when she finally speaks again her voice comes out low, flat, and dangerously calm.

"I’m going to go find a river," she says, flicking back a strand of hair, "and drown myself in it."

She’s airborne before either of them can respond, wings snapping wide, launching off over the treetops in a streak of gold and fury that scatters birds for a quarter mile in every direction. The last thing either of them hears is the faint, distant sound of her still muttering to herself somewhere above the canopy, something about demon lords and dignity.

Lucien watches her go, grinning, entirely too pleased with himself, and folds his hands behind his head.

"So," he says, to no one in particular. "Breakfast it is."

Behind him, still chuckling, Valgereth tosses him a strip of dried meat without looking up.

"You’re going to get us all killed, you know that?" Val declares with a chuckle.

"Eventually," Lucien agrees cheerfully, catching it. "But it’ll be worth it."

He leaves the collapsed tent exactly where it fell, a monument to the morning’s chaos, and settles back against a boulder to eat.

Thoroughly satisfied with the start to his day