Innate: The Dark Angel Chronicles, #2

By Serenity Rayne

Confidence… Stability… Acceptance…

Three words I'd never experienced, until recently, and all it took was displaying my wings and opening my heart to four very different men. All it took was displaying my wings and opening my heart to four very different men Raph - my boss. Older wiser, and a complete control freak; Christian - my best friend who knows all my deep, dark secrets; Gage - a cursed soldier, punished for centuries for speaking his mind.; and last, but by no means least, Cyrus - the son of Death himself. The male who's broken my heart more times than I could count.

As if dealing with them weren't enough, I'm on Lucifer's radar and he wants me for himself. If I thought my life before the Mate Trials was hard, it's nothing compared to now.

Saying I'm being hunted is an understatement. Before it was just because I was different, and my existence was blasphemy. Now? I'm being hunted because I have been named Samael's successor.

The icing on this disaster cake? I'm pregnant and have a fifth mate.

* Paranormal Reverse Harem Romance. Adult content.*

• Language: English
• Publisher: Serenity Rayne
• Release date: Jan 2, 2024
• ISBN: 9798215260609

Book preview

A gavel falling hard upon wood echoes within the great hall. The greater demons of hell turn to gaze upon Lucifer in awe. Come to order you useless worms. His voice booms, and the room instantly falls silent. We have temporarily lost our brother Asmodai, felled by Nyx’s daughter no less! Flames ignite around him, whipping wildly like a raging inferno as his rage becomes more palpable. 

Murmurs fill the room, demons questioning how she was strong enough to kill Asmodai. Millions of questions of how she was capable of felling such an enormous, powerful, ancient Demon single handedly. Inconceivable. Exactly how much power does this wretched female hold? Lucifer runs his clawed hand down his face, and the flames blaze hotter. The stupidity of those in his service. She is Samael’s descendant! Lucifer screams, slamming his fists onto the table, igniting it instantly. For all we know, she could be more powerful than any of us in this room, Lucifer states, sitting down and resting his horned head in his hands.

Musical laughter fills the air as a sexy, large-breasted demoness approaches the table. The rhythmic clicking of her heels on the obsidian echoes loudly throughout the hall. She glides towards them, her large breasts swaying with every step. You can always seduce her away from those pathetic angelic mates of hers, Lilith says as she leans on Mammon’s back, twirling his hair in her fingers. 

And how do you propose we do that? Lucifer lifts his head, his right eyebrow raised. Leaning forward, he cants his head to the side then motions with his hand for her to continue, his curiosity has been piqued.

Laughing again, Lilith saunters around the room, the clicking of her heels echoing again in the now silent halls. You are The Prince of Lies and Deceit, The Seducer of the Fallen, The Almighty Lord of Hell. She smirks as she places both of her elbows on the table before Lucifer

with her ass in the air, her long forked tail lazily flicking back and forth behind her. What is it you truly desire, dear brother? Raising up, she reaches out to caress Lucifer’s cheek. Serpentine eyes watch the path her hand takes.

I desire to make that bitch fall to her knees before me and serve me for eternity, Lucifer says, striking out and grabbing Lilith by the throat hard and dragging her into his lap. His lips crash upon hers and he bites her bottom lip, hard, drawing blood. His long, forked tongue snakes out and laps at the blood rolling down her face. Without hesitation, he throws her across the great hall, causing her to impact against one of the marble pillars. Marble shards rain down. A large crack runs the length of the pillar, threatening to destroy it. Crimson ichor streaks down the white marble, painting it vermillion. The rest of the demons present stare at Lucifer in fear after his outburst.

Study Samael’s descendant and bring me any information that may be useful! Lucifer commands. Quickly, the hall empties, having a solid plan to appease their lord. For now, he is resigned to wait. Lucifer returns to his throne surrounded by his succubi, each willing to kill in his name.

It’s all just one vast chess game, two steps forward, one step back. Patience is key in the long game. And Lucifer only ever plays to win.

I’ve spent my days since Cyrus’s rescue, flying back and forth between the rift and my nest. Every day I train with either my grandfather Samael or with one of the Archangels. My training has intensified over the last few weeks to prepare me for the unknown. Both sides of the veil agree that something is brewing, they just aren’t sure what yet. The one thing that we are one hundred percent sure of, someone or something, is trying to get to me through my mates.

Tonight’s flight brings me back to the hospital to assist Raphael, Cyrus, and Azrael with the duties of reaping souls. Several strong flaps of my wings send dust and debris flying across the roof as I touch down. I barely have time to put my wings away when Mark comes running over to me from the stairwell and beams. Long time no see Thana. How’s mated life treating you? Mark’s smile is infectious, and I can’t help but laugh at the funny face he’s making. 

Thoughts of all the little things the guys have done with and for me flash through my mind. A soft sigh escapes my lips as the happiness that they have brought me bubbles to the surface. I have some of the best mates a girl can ask for. I take the offered census for the floor I’m heading to work on tonight. With everything that has been happening lately, the guys are adamant that if I go to work, at least two of them would be present in the building with me. Looking over the list, I purse my lips, studying the names and the room numbers. Who do I need to visit first tonight? Briefly, I look up from the list and over to Mark as he holds open the door for me. 

Honestly, I’m not sure. Raphael said he would brief you himself. Mark wiggles his eyebrows. 

Rolling my eyes, I head down the stairs to the third floor and head directly to my mate’s office. An icy chill runs down my spine, setting my nerves on edge. The wing oozes death and malice. The brightly lit hallway and the stark white of the walls are in direct contrast to doom and gloom aura the wing has tonight. I can only suspect that the fallen ones have done some dark deed to cause this many people to be on the brink of death. The one thing that irks me is that we

don’t know who they are yet. I have my suspicions that some of the fallen have banded together to bring hell on earth. 

Just before I knock on Raphael’s office door, he suddenly opens it and grabs me, and I’m wrapped up in his arms, being held tightly to his chest. Hello, my love, how was your flight? Raphael searches my face, locking onto my eyes. 

Giggling softly, I stand on my tippy toes and kiss his lips. The winds were with me and it’s a beautiful night for a flight.

He smiles down at me and presses his lips to my forehead. Love pulses through the bond, strong and sure, as he holds me against him.

I will not lie Thana. Tonight is going to be exceptionally difficult. Someone poisoned a water source and people are in various stages of death. Raphael pulls me even closer to his body, forcing my head to rest on his chest. His lips press to the crown of my head and his hot breath washes over me. Cyrus and Azrael need your help, both are getting tired from working all day and half the night. Raphael rests his head upon mine, offering me as much comfort as he can. 

I should probably go relieve at least one of them then. Gently, I extract myself from his tight embrace. I look up at him, pushing through the bond just how much I love him. A brilliant smile crosses his lips as his eyes become liquid pools of gold. I bounce up quickly and kiss his pillow-soft lips before making two cups of coffee. Steaming mugs in hand, I leave the room.

It doesn’t take long to find Azrael in a patient’s room. Sweat beads on his sun-kissed brow as he focuses on the task at hand. The spectral white wisp of the man’s soul rises from his body and directly into Azrael’s hand. Good evening, father, I say, holding the cup of dark roast coffee out to him. 

Are you sure you’re not an Angel, Thana? Azrael says, joking as he stands and takes the offered coffee from me. 

Unfurling my wings, I look back at them and flex them for good measure. The color fades from pitch black down to a light gray. Safe to say I’m Switzerland when it comes to picking sides. I shrug and take a sip of the coffee that I had made specifically for Cyrus.

Nodding slowly, Azrael sips at the coffee and lets an appreciative groan escape his lips. I have to admit, you make the best coffee. I dub thee my dark angel, Azrael says, just as I sense Cyrus behind me. 

Cyrus snakes his arm around my waist from behind. Oh, no old man, she’s my dark angel. Cyrus’s gravelly voice and proclamation makes my insides clench with desire. My heart skips a beat, hoping beyond hope that this alternative version of Cyrus is permanent.

Naughty Cy, here’s your coffee, babe. I’m actually here to help ease the burden that’s been placed on the both of you. Tell me who’s next, and I’ll take care of the rest, I say as cheerful as possible, even though it’s a rather depressing task. 

With one arm tightly banded around my waist, Cyrus holds me while he drinks his coffee. To be honest, Thana, pick a direction and a room. Most of these poor souls will not make it to morning, Cyrus says in a rough exhale. Infused notes of irritation as well as disdain echo in his tone of voice. 

Raising an eyebrow, I look over my shoulder at Cyrus, then back to his father before us.

Sadly, my son isn’t exaggerating this time. Out of the twenty humans poisoned, at least eleven or more will die tonight. Azrael looks wiped out and shockingly saddened by the news he relayed to me. 

I—

I’ll work with Thana. Raphael strides into the room. You two take turns so you don’t burn out. Gage will be here in the morning with the car to drive us all home, he says with authority, even though his darkened expression says something else entirely. This current fiasco weighs heavily upon his heart. Emotionally, he’s in agony over the loss of so many innocent lives. Occasionally, through the bond for a brief instance, I can sense his pain interwoven with anger over this travesty. 

Carefully, I break free of Cyrus and wiggle my fingers, manifesting shadows as I approach Azrael. Father, I would like to try something? Phrasing it more like a question makes him contemplate the swirling mass of inky blackness similar to the river Styx, but not fluid.

Ah, he says, investigating the mass of darkness in my hands. Let’s give it a shot. What’s the worst that could happen? Nothing? Azrael says as he goes and sits in the chair before me. 

Drawing in a measured breath like my grandfather taught me, I harness the dark energy in my hands. My focus is laser sharp as I replenish Azrael’s power. Slowly, the harnessed energy trickles into him, rejuvenating him, easing his exhaustion. His eyes widen in disbelief as his energy and strength return to him. When I can sense he’s stronger than before, I cut the flow to him and sigh softly as I remove my hands and shove them in my pockets. I hope you feel better, I say, almost wincing, feeling like a huge freak at the moment. 

Raphael and Cyrus both look shocked. Apparently, I did something I shouldn’t have been able to do. I shift my weight from one foot to the other, and chew my lip, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Thana? Azrael says softly, trying to get my attention. Your grandfather has taught you well. You truly are Samael’s descendant in every way. Azrael smiles proudly at me before kissing my cheek and departing the room. 

Drawing in a deep breath, I look at both of my mates. You’re next, Cy, I whisper as I walk towards him. His dark brown eyes regard me as my steps carry me closer to my target. I can tell my eyes have blackened. His life force ebbs and flows as I search his, and they shift to match mine, and a smile creeps across my lips. My wings flex as I grip Cy’s face, and breathe darkness directly into him, refueling his body the quickest way possible. Our lips crash together, battling for dominance as I pump him full of the darkness that I had harnessed for him. When I feel he’s stronger, I release my grip on his face and retract my wings. 

Wordlessly, I turn and leave the room. I can hear the quick clicking of Raphael’s dress shoes gaining ground behind me. My cat tattoo itches, and I let my familiar free to walk down the hallway. She ducks into a room and climbs onto the first bed. The patient is a teenage boy, late high school, early college, if I had to guess. Sandy brown hair covers his youthful face, obscuring some of it from view. The chunkiness of his preteen years long gone replaced by the strong angles of a young man’s face. From what my grandfather has taught me, not every soul has to be taken when the body is almost ready to give up. His baby blue eyes move in my direction, his pupils are uneven and sluggish as they attempt to focus on me. Death is on the horizon for him. Something pulls at my mind. Like an itch that needs scratching. My familiar meows. Maybe it’s not too late if I act now.

Instinct rules me. I take on my dark angel persona and lean over the boy. It’s not your time yet, child. My voice is soothing as the boy’s eyelids grow heavy and he falls asleep.

I reach back and touch Fenrir. Rise, I say, loud enough to warn Raphael what I’m about to do. My wolven familiar looks at the boy and whines.

I know, boy, I need you to find an older vessel for this illness when I pass it to you. One whose life is almost at the end, anyway. A life for a life. Fenrir nods his wolven head, so I turn back to the boy before me. 

Spreading my wings wide, I pull at all the darkness in the room, gathering it to me before I lay my hands on the boy. I attract the poison to the darkness I’ve summoned as it works its way out of his veins in a green, slimy mass. Quickly, I trap the mass in an orb of darkness and pass it off to Fenrir. Go quickly. I cannot hold it for too long.

Fenrir doesn’t hesitate to jump out the window and into the dark of night. Raphael, and now Cyrus, are at my side, escorting me to Raphael’s office. My blackened orbs appear vacant as I see through Fenrir’s eyes while he searches for a worthy target. 

My paws hit the pavement and the smells of the night assault my canine nose. A small animal scuttles past but I ignore, intent on