Ambriel's wings perked up when James touched his cheek. They moved to cover them from prying eyes, to shield them from the rest of this wicked word. One hand reached for James', their fingers becoming entangled, while the other reached up, touching James' perfect bow mouth.
No. James could not be evil.
"No," Ambriel whispered, leaning in. "You would not do that. You could raise me up, and I could raise you up. My wings can carry us."