Enthroned by Amethysts (A Dance with Destiny Book 3) by JK Ensley, Jennifer Ensley

was all but certain I’d hear the beautiful sounds of a wee bairn upon my return.”
    “Not yet, Brother. Soon, but not this day. Come and share some rose tea with me. Let us enjoy your blessed company for a time.”
    “Hello, Varick. How do ye fare, Brother?”
    The warriors embraced as they exchanged welcoming words.
    Vittorio heralded them all of his exciting adventures, acting out many of the embellished scenes. That was Jenevier’s favorite part, how theatrical and entertaining the giant Vanir was. She listened to his fantastical tales for hours before her eyelids became too heavy to fight against.
    “Aye, yer eyes betray ye, Lass. I shall leave the remains for another day. A mother must have her rest. Ye cannae be sitting here all night listening tae me prattle on.”
    “Wait, did you forget something?” She yawned and stretched her arms, lazily. “It was on your mind the whole of your jaunt to my door, yet you mentioned it not. I’m anxious to see what it is. Don’t toy with me and make me beg for your favor, dearest Vittorio. You’re not as cruel as all that, are you?”
    “Aye, an’ just how did ye know aboot that, wee lass?”
    She pouted. “If I tell you, you’ll hate me.”
    “What’s this madness? Have yer wits left ye while I was away? How can those loveliest of lips even utter such a vile a thing as that?”
    “Because, I heard you with my own ears. You proclaimed such truth to Vareilious only a few short hours ago.”
    “I dinnae do such a thing, Princess.”
    “You confirmed your hate standing within my own door. Just there.” She pointed.
    “Nae, wee sister. Yer ears are amiss. I said only that I hate Angels.” He laughed. “I cannae hate ye, my love.”
    His laughter was met only with silence from Jenevier and Varick.
    Vittorio looked hard at them, studying Varick’s pale face. “What are ye two nae saying?” he demanded.
    “Jenevier is no mere woman.”
    “Aye, Brother, this I know.” He winked at her.
    “No, open thine ears, Warrior. Jenevier is not what we once thought. She’s different,” Varick said. “Everything about her is different.”
    “Aye, Brother… everythin’ .” Vittorio closed his eyes and whispered, “The way she smells, the way she tastes, the way her hair feels when it brushes across yer cheek, the way her eyes sparkle when she’s excited, the angelic glow of her sleeping face, how soft her skin is, how gentle her touch feels upon yer brow.” Tiny tears gathered in the corners of his closed lids. “An’ the way ye cannae shake her from yer thoughts, nae matter how hard ye try.”
    She wiped her knuckles gently down the single moistened path upon his handsome cheek. “I love you so much,” she whispered.
    “Aye, Princess, an’ I love ye more… always.”
    Jealousy stabbed through Varick’s heart, he tried to cast it aside. “Yes, all of this is true. But it doesn’t stop there, Vittorio. The reason her mask is so dramatically different than our own, the way she’s not only God’s executioner but His divine healer as well, the way Apollyon’s heart never stood a chance against her pure innocence, the way she carries his child now, his Angel child. And… the way she knows things she shouldn’t know and speaks with a babe who is not yet born. What do all these things mean to you , Brother?”
    “By all that’s holy… yer an Angel, a bloody Angel.”
    “You always counted me thus, in more ways than one.” She smiled and squeezed his hand.
    “Nae. It’s nae true. How dare ye, Brother? How dare ye name her Angel in my presence?”
    Jenevier’s heart ached, tightening painfully in her chest. “Why do you protest so strongly, my friend? Am I any different to thine eyes, to thine own heart? Hate you Angels so badly? Forget not, dearest brother, it was an Angel which dragged you, dragged us both, from a fate far worse than hell. And you dare act thusly to me?”
    “Aye, Milady, I dinnae forget.” He lowered his head. “Let us also