Gabriël allowed Joan to lead him away from Michael and whatever he had done this time. As they returned to his home in silence, he tried to recall the incident, but the last thing Gabriël clearly remembered was Joan leaving the cottage. 
He was missing hours. Hours in which he could have done, God only knows what. He could have hurt someone. What if he had followed Joan and tried to... The mere thought of it made him feel sick. Surely Joan would have said something. She wouldn't be alone with him now if he had done something to her. Had they gone to the training room together, or had he gone on his own?

"Joan, what happened?" he asked her with a quivering voice.

Though he wanted to know, he feared her answer. And with Michael now knowing something was controlling him. All hope of keeping this between Joan and himself had disappeared.

"We're almost home," Joan said shortly. "I'll tell you when we're inside."

It seemed like she was afraid as well. He tried to touch her hand, but Joan walked faster, creating a distance between them. Gabriël's anxiety grew with every second that passed. When they finally arrived at the cottage, Joan made him enter first. She told him to take another vial of antidote, but what was the point? Clearly, Raphael's concoction only healed his physical wound. Whatever was inside him wouldn't be quenched so easily. Still, more to put her at ease than himself, Gabriël did as Joan asked and fetched a vial from his bedroom. When he joined her again, he saw Joan clutching a paper in her fist. It disappeared as she opened her hand.

"What was that?" he asked. "Who are you messaging?"

"Michael. Just letting him know we're here." She faced him and noticed the vial in his hand. "Gabriël, you need to take that."

"I drank half. The rest needs to be rubbed directly on the wound."

Joan stepped up to him. Their eyes met. She exhaled and reached combed his hair away with her fingers. Then she took the antidote from him and motioned for Gabriël to sit down. She draped a blanket over his shoulders. He realised then he was still half-naked, wearing only his training pants. Thank God for the early hours. Everyone was still sleeping, so nobody had seen him like this.

Gabriël reclined against the cushions so that Joan could treat the wound. He closed his eyes and focused on her touch, recalling what they had done the previous day. He thought of her soft skin warming up as he held her in his arms. Her dulcet moans when he moved inside her. The taste of her lips when they kissed - sweet like honey.
How Gabriël longed to experience that all for every single day of their eternal life together. But he doubted Joan would ever let him touch her again. After seeing how he tore up her dress and bruised her, he didn't blame her. He only blamed himself. For hurting her. For not being stronger.
And now that Michael was thrown into the mix, they could never be together again. The risk was simply too great.

***

Joan felt Gabriël move under her touch. She peered up through her lashes to see a single tear fall from his closed eyes. Dropping the now-empty vial to the floor, she sat up on her knees with one hand on Gabriël's chest and the other at her side. She had a small French dagger, a baslard, hidden in her boot, but she preferred not to use it. Hesitantly, Joan touched his lips with her own and whispered to him, "Open your eyes."

He did. To her great relief, his eyes were blue and as beautiful as the deepest ocean. This was her friend, her lover, her Gabriël, and not the demon lurking beneath the surface. For now, at least, she was safe. 

"You shouldn't be so close to me," he whispered back to her.

"Please, don't tell me to leave," Joan begged of him. "I can't bear to be apart from you now."

"I don't want you to get hurt again."

"I won't. And you won't either. I'll watch over you."

Joan kissed him again, more confidently this time, but Gabriël gently pushed her back. The pained expression on his face tore at her. It frustrated her, even. Why did God insist on giving them that one moment of absolute bliss when all that resulted from it was absolute suffering?

"Joan, I need to know what happened," Gabriël urged her.

She sighed and sat beside him. Their fingers locked together. They held onto each other, supporting each other as only lovers could.

"I'll tell you," said Joan. "But please know that everything that has happened will remain between us. That is to say, Michael and us. He agreed to it when we talked in the training room. He'll help us, Gabriël."

"Help us with what?" Gabriël clutched her hand. "Joan, for the love of God, just tell me, please."

"Yesterday, after I left, I tried to watch you from my house. But it was too dark, and you had lit no lights. I wanted to come over but wasn't sure how you would react. And after what happened, I was... I was afraid, so I stayed away. I couldn't sleep, so I went to the training room. When I got there, I saw Michael enter ahead of me. I followed him but hid away when I saw you were there, too."

"I don't remember going there."

"You must have been under that thing's influence already. Anyway, you and Michael started talking."

"Did you hear anything?"

"No. But I read your lips. Gabriël, you were taunting him. You told him you knew how he had reacted to your apparent death. Michael threw his bow at the wall, but you never even flinched. You moved closer to him and reminded him of something that had happened before your oath."

Gabriël dropped his head. It seemed like he tried his best to listen but to forget everything she said at the same time. Joan felt sorry for him. She knew Michael was his closest friend. And she dreaded what she had to tell him next.

"There's more. I'm just not sure if I should be the one to tell you."

"What is it?"

She bit her lip. This could send him over the edge. But when she caught his pleading expression, she continued in a hushed voice, "You kissed him."

Gabriël's eyes flew open in a wild panic. He stood from the couch and started pacing franticly in front of her.

"No, no, no," he rambled. "Why would I...? How could I...? Why didn't he stop me?"

"He did." Joan tried to keep her voice steady. "Michael pushed you against the wall, and that's when I stepped in. I couldn't let things escalate any further."

Gabriël dropped to his knees in utter defeat. She quickly moved to sit at his side and pulled him close to her, head to her bosom so he could hear her heartbeat. She had to keep him calm.

"This thing is destroying everything I care about," he sobbed.

"No, it's not. I won't let it. And you can't either." Joan lovingly stroked his hair. "You have to fight it."

"How?" He grasped her arm with both hands. "I don't even know what I'm fighting or when I have to fight it!"

"We know it's an effect of the poison, so we have to find a way to get it out of your system. Michael and I will help you. I've noticed that whenever this thing controls you, your eyes turn pitch black. It's like all that's left in them is darkness."

"My eyes? So that's why you're always looking at them."

"Yes. Michael is also aware, and he'll tell Raphael what he needs to know to battle this, but no more. The details of what happened in the training room and here will remain between the three of us."

She realised her mistake at the sudden stillness of Gabriël's body in her arms.

"What happened here?" He repeated slowly, turning his face to her. "What else did you discuss with Michael?"

"He... asked me if you had acted like that before. Gabriël, forgive me. I had no choice."

"No choice in what? What did you tell him?"

"He knows that thing inside you took control yesterday and tried to... force you on me."

"Are you crazy? Michael won't allow us near each other ever again!"

"No, you're wrong. Michael can't trust anyone else with this. If anything, he will keep me close to you, to monitor you, as long as I say I'm safe."

"But you're not safe!"

A small voice inside of Joan said the same. As long as this entity was inside Gabriël, she was in danger. They all were. But her heart urged her to cast all trepidation aside and stand by what she knew to be the only truth that mattered. 

"Gabriël, look at me." Joan took his face in her hands. "I have always felt safest around you, even when I was alive. Yours was the voice I wanted to hear the most. You lifted me up every time you spoke to me. Michael stood by me in battle, and Marina and Cate guided me with the lords and ladies, but they were nothing compared to you. You were the one who brought me comfort. You still do. And I would rather die a thousand times over than leave you now. Let me be here for you."

Joan brushed Gabriël's tears away. His blue eyes glistened brightly. They pulled her to him. His lips tasted salty, but she didn't care. Gradually, Gabriël relaxed and eased into their kiss. He rested his hands on her hips. That simple touch sparked a flame deep within Joan. It only grew hotter as she let her hands caress every part of his upper body, feeling the taunt muscles of his abdomen and chest. 

"Take my clothes off," she breathed against his lips.

Gabriël slid his hands under her padded training tunic and lifted it over her head. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her bare breasts against him. 

"My eyes?" he asked before she could kiss him again.

"Blue," she whispered. "Keep going, please. I want you inside me."

Gabriël gently pushed her down to lie on top of her. He nuzzled her neck, taking in her scent — orange blossom and jasmine, which Joan knew were his favourite blooms. Slowly, he left a trail of kisses down her neck to her bosom. She gasped as Gabriël's lips closed around her hardened nipple, teeth grazing against the tender nub. Did she dare ask him to bite it? Would he think her strange for even proposing it?
Smoothly, Gabriël opened her belt and pants. Joan lay perfectly still despite the maddening yearning in her core and allowed him to further undress her. He found the baslard hidden in the side of her boot and placed it on the floor beside her.

"Don't hesitate," he said.

Gazing into his piercing blue eyes, Joan nodded. She wouldn't let the demon that had invaded his mind ruin what they had. Gabriël returned her look as he went down between her legs, his hungry eyes playing a seductive game. Surprisingly, Joan didn't feel the urge to cover herself. She'd been slightly hesitant the day before, but now she relished in having Gabriël see her naked body.
A moan escaped her as he slid his fingers between her wet folds. It somehow felt different from doing it herself. And Joan had done it, a lot more than she would ever care to admit out loud. Her deepest, most secret fantasies were of Gabriël coming into her bedroom under cover of night to take her and sweep her away. Sometimes, she wanted to believe he could hear how she pleasured herself with his name on her lips. She couldn't believe that she had him now. It all still felt like a fantasy. A wonderful, glorious fantasy.
The sudden push of two fingers inside her made Joan's entire body tremble. She drew in her breath and closed her eyes. Every little hooking movement sent a jolt through her. And when he used his tongue to lick her juices and strike at her sensitive clit, Joan whimpered in wanton need. She arched her back, tilting her pelvis as a wave of the most sensational pleasure rushed her.

Captivated by her daze, she was only vaguely aware that Gabriël pulled away from her. His naked body greeted her by the time she opened her eyes. The welcome sight of his erect member made her smile. Oh, how she wanted him. 
Joan reached up to pull Gabriël to her to kiss his lips. Passionate but urgent, as if he was water in the desert. She tasted the remnants of her own desire and deepened the kiss. Her one hand traveled down between their bodies, and her fingers wrapped around him. Gabriël groaned as she stroked him and rolled her thumb over his tip a few times.

The foreplay had prepared her for him, and Gabriël slid inside her easily. The small gasp Joan uttered was silenced by his mouth. He began to move in a slow, steady rhythm - too slow, to her liking. The ardent desire building up threatened to overwhelm Joan so that it spurred her to take matters into her own hands.
She surprised Gabriël by grasping his hips with her thighs and rolling him over on his back so she was on top. With ease, she took over the rhythm he started and then sped up, moving up and down his member. Joan smirked at seeing Gabriël's silent awe and put his hands to her breasts, making him aware of what she wanted with no words. He happily obliged, squeezing her tender hills and pinching her nipples. 

She moaned in delight and swayed faster on top of him. Her brown hair cascaded down as it loosened from her braid when she threw her head back. Suddenly, Gabriël moved his hands to her hips. He held her in place as he thrust up, fast and relentless. Joan felt him shudder underneath her as he drove both of them further into ecstasy.
A drawn-out moan escaped Gabriël as he met his release inside her. She once again took charge and moved her hips to make the moment last for as long possible. Her wild, urgent sways as she chased her own high, prompted Gabriël to stroke her clit in time with her movements. She cried out as the knot finally gave. With tears in her eyes, Joan leaned in to take Gabriël's face and ravaged his mouth with a fierce kiss. 
She had never felt such comforting rush course through her, not even the first time they had lain together. She knew then that they had gone beyond just lust and yearning for each other. They needed to be together. They had to be together. Now and forever.

***

Gabriël breathed heavily as Joan lay on the floor with him, his hands resting on the small of her back. He felt her heart pounding. His own was likely to burst from his chest. He couldn't believe what had just happened. 

"You've been holding out on me, Joan," he said with a light chuckle. "I thought you'd never been intimate with someone before? How did you know how to do that?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

Joan gave him a quick kiss and slipped away from him. Gabriël wanted nothing more but to remain near her heated body, so he quickly gathered their clothes and followed her into the bedroom. She put on one of his shirts, large enough to cover her, and lay on the bed.

"Go on then," Joan dared him as he sat opposite her.

"Ladies first." Gabriël winked.

"There was a young girl in one of the follower camps of my army. Her name was Céleste. Her father was a drunk, and her mother died of a fever when she was a child. Fifteen years old and the only one bringing in enough money to sustain her younger siblings. I tried to convince her not to reduce herself to such acts, but she appeared to have made her peace with it.
"One night, she asked me if the stories were true about me still being a virgin. I suppose she couldn't believe it, me being surrounded by so many strapping soldiers. She said she would teach me, so I would be prepared should the occasion call for it. The last time I saw Céleste was in Rouen. She was in the front, and someone was with her, but I don't recall his face."

The memory seemed to take hold of Joan as she stared blankly ahead of her. Gabriël reached for her hand. She blinked and gave him a weak smile.

"You know, I never really thought I would use what she taught me. There was the one time I was alone with Alençon, and we kissed, but he wouldn't pursue anything further with me. He believed it was for the best that I remain as I was. But then... I was captured. And those... animals, they -"

"No, don't," interrupted Gabriël. "Don't go there."

He caressed the burn scar on Joan's ankle, hoping his loving touch might make the horrid memories disappear. She exhaled shakily and met his gaze again.  

"What about you?" she asked.

"I've had... some experience," he responded hesitantly.

Gabriël tried his best not to look into her eyes and fiddled with the edge of the bedsheet. But his evasiveness only spiked Joan's curiosity.

"Wait a minute." She sat up. "Experience as in...? But the rules? Don't tell me there's a loophole for Archangels."

"Ah... Sort of?"

Joan's eyes widened.

"The rules in the Vale are the same for everyone, Archangel or not," Gabriël said quickly. "But there is an exemption for us. We can take a lover once every three months, as long as they are a living mortal. And we can't maintain an actual relationship. Just -"

"One-night stands? I'm beginning to understand why you go to Earth every chance you get."

"Actually, it's been a while since the last time." Gabriël's cheeks heated.

"Define 'a while'."

"Centuries."

Joan blinked at that, shifting a little. Gabriël cleared his throat. Michael would not be pleased if he found out he told another angel about this. Or for everything else they did.

"So... when was your first time?" asked Joan.

"Almost two millennia ago."

"How many lovers have you had?"

"A dozen, perhaps," admitted Gabriël. "But as I said, it's been a few centuries since the last one."

Joan blinked again, clearly taken aback by his confession.

"How? I mean, why? Why so long?"

"Does that matter?"

"I suppose not. But I don't understand. Why do the Archangels get an exemption on this rule?"

Gabriël knew he shouldn't say anything else, but he could see by her expression that she wouldn't let this go. And if they were truly going to be lovers from now, they had to be honest with each other. In everything.

***

Joan and Gabriël were fully dressed again and seated at the kitchen table. Rays of sunlight brightened up the room. The table was set with food and a cup of tea for each. It wasn't until that first bite that Joan realised how hungry she was.

"Now, what I'm about to tell you is forbidden for anyone to know."

Joan nodded, understanding the risk Gabriël was taking. Her heart swelled with knowing he trusted her this much.

"A long time ago, before these rules and our oath, we were free to love whom we wanted. A mortal or an angel, it didn't matter. The world was a different place, and the Circles weren't the organised cluster they are now. Anyone not worthy of crossing the Gates of Heaven was sent below to spend eternity in darkness.
"But from that darkness, something crawled up, and it attacked one of our own. I won't tell you his name; it's better if you don't know. The darkness possessed the Archangel completely. He betrayed the lover he had taken here and descended to Earth, where he did unspeakable things. He made people hurt each other, creating chaos and destruction. But his worst crime was the corruption of a young woman, a girl still, really. He manipulated her, and she eventually came to believe he was her husband. No matter what he did, she remained at his side."

Gabriël paused a moment to sip his tea. Joan had been listening intently and was grateful for the reprieve. This wasn't the story she'd expected.

"We couldn't allow the Archangel to carry on. So Michael and I visited the girl and gave her a protective pendant, a cross. It became invisible as soon as it touched her skin. We could've stopped it all then, but the Archangel caught us and forced us out of her home. We tried to get to her again, but this time, he lured us into a trap. While I attempted to break the illusion, Michael fought him. But he was too strong for us.
"Eventually, he broke the illusion himself by transforming into a dragon and devouring the girl whole. It was then that God gave us the strength to defeat him. He had gone too far in His eyes. We attacked him with all we had and freed the girl. The cross we gave her burned the dragon from the inside out. Michael used Heaven's Fire to pierce through the beast's heart and finish him. The darkness was sent back to the depths of the Earth, but took our once-beloved friend along.
"God put forth several rules to ensure we could never lose another angel in such a manner, and Michael gathered all the Archangels to take a binding oath. Some, of course, were against it - they believed it was too harsh, so an exemption was granted under certain conditions. Twenty-four hours with a mortal every three months, and under no circumstances are we to maintain a relationship with anyone. Only friendship is allowed amongst ourselves. It weighed hard on some, but we learned to adapt. Angels caught in a romantic affair would be sent back to Earth to become Nephilim. Because of the exemption, Archangels were less enticed to break this rule. We couldn't afford to lose another one of us."

Gabriël took Joan's hand, waiting for her to say something. But she sat in silence. His story had baffled her. It only filled her head with more questions.

"What about children?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" Gabriël cocked his head.

"The Nephilim can have children with each other like any other mortal, right? The children don't inherit their parents' immortality, only certain abilities."

"Yes, that's true."

"Then what of a hybrid child? Half-mortal, half-Archangel?"

"Raphael makes a potion we are to take before going to Earth to meet with a lover. Not that we're sure we actually need it. No child was born to any of us before these rules were implemented."

"Gabriël, do we need to...?"

"What? Take the potion? Not as long as we have our affair here. You are, technically, dead in the Vale. Were you to stay in the Mortal Realm for over twenty-four hours, your body would adapt and revert to what it used to be before your death. It's more or less what happens with the Nephilim, except they only keep their angelic grace and not their wings."

Joan relaxed a little at his explanation. A child would be indisputable proof of her having an affair with an angel. One less thing to worry about, at least.

"There's something else," she said. "That story, about the dragon, sounds familiar. Can you tell me what happened to the girl?"

"She made a vow to the Lord and his angels forever to be in His service. Unfortunately, she lived in a time when more than one deity was revered, so she was punished severely for her beliefs. Eventually, she was tortured to death."

Joan felt a knot in her stomach. She had heard this story before.

"Her name?"

She could guess, but she needed to hear him say it.

"Margaret of Antioch."

Marina.