Cover illustration by Ashe Green
“I’ll be anything you want, William.”
After winning a prestigious poker tournament, William Mitchell expects money and stability. Instead, he’s awarded a Serviteur—a young man bred and trained to serve. Unsettled by a prize he never wanted and determined to set the man free, William will soon discover that doing the right thing isn’t always as easy as it seems.
Adathan Eden is everything William isn’t. He’s graceful, patient, and genuinely kind. Full of love despite a world that has rarely been kind to him, he has no need for a savior. Why would he, when he’s finally found the perfect home in William? William keeps warning him he’s not a good person, but there’s no use—Adathan sees right past the walls he’s built.
And William? He’s learning that being seen might be the most terrifying thing that’s ever happened to him.
All-in for an Angel is a low-conflict, character-driven MM romance about healing, hope, and falling in love despite doing everything in your power not to.
Content Warnings: Themes of institutionalized slavery and exploitation (no on-page abuse), descriptions of panic attacks, and references to past suicidal ideation (side character).
This story avoids graphic content and prioritizes emotional safety.
Details
| Words: | 58,000 |
| Published: | February 6, 2026 |
| Genres: | MM Romance, Contemporary, Speculative Fiction (ish) |
| Happy Ending: | Yes |
| Themes: | Strangers to Lovers, Forced Proximity, Modern Slavery (no on-page abuse), Anxiety, Insecurities, Healing, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, the concepts of one’s identity and freedom. |
| Steam Level: | 2/5 🔥 Behind closed doors |
| Series: | Eden Serviteur (Book 1) |
Bonus Scenes
Coming soon!
Author’s Note
This book was an interesting challenge for me. I liked the thought of exploring the ethical dilemmas surrounding a very willing slave and an unwilling master, where the concepts of one’s identity and freedom are put into perspective through an impossible situation. My favorite thing about this book is how Adathan gradually makes William open his eyes to everything William is a slave to, including his own biases and beliefs. This book took me longer to write than I’d expected because the single POV and slow(ish) burn made me step out of my comfort zone, but I’m very proud of the result!
Excerpt
Chapter 6: Sorrows
Content warning: This excerpt follows a friend’s confession of past suicidal ideation and includes references to serious, permanent injuries from a car accident.
…
The sharp pain William had felt earlier pierced his heart again. The mere thought of going to Oliver’s place and finding his lifeless body made him break into a cold sweat. Knowing Oliver, he would have left him a letter, thanking him for everything and asking him to stay strong—as if it were that simple.
“Oliver,” William began, his throat tightening around his best friend’s name. Bringing him up was a terrible idea, but he couldn’t stop. The words spilled out without his permission. “He’s not doing so well.”
Adathan put his spoon down and rested his hand on William’s.
William stared at the bandages he’d wrapped around Adathan’s fingers, struggling to find what to say next. He’d rarely opened up to anyone—Oliver being a notable exception because the son of a bitch had always known how to pry him wide open. It was as if he possessed the key to William’s soul.
William considered himself lucky to have him, but there was a downside to only having one close friend. Who was he supposed to talk to when he was concerned about that one friend’s well-being?
Certainly not a stranger—even less so a slave.
William took a slow, silent breath, his inner voice pressing him to change the subject, but he found himself unable to. Heavy sorrow had built up inside him, demanding to be let out.
Fuck it.
Adathan was offering to listen, so why refuse? Because imaginary people would mock William for drawing comfort from someone who only pretended to care?
Fuck them.
“He was in a car accident about a year ago,” William said hoarsely. “Drunk driver. The piece of shit escaped justice by dying on impact.”
He gritted his teeth as all too familiar fury rose in his chest. “Oliver, he . . . It’s a miracle he survived . . .” He trailed off, his gaze growing unfocused as the pressing voice in his head grew more insistent. His nails dug into his palm as he balled his free hand into a fist, the pain helping him stay grounded in the present.
“He lost his right eye and arm, and—” His voice broke, his fury mixing with suffocating despair. Oliver used to draw smiles from nearly anyone just by existing in their vicinity. Now, people either stared, averted their gazes, or gave him a weak smile weighed down by a mixture of repulsion and pity.
“The right half of his face”—William gestured at his own head—“it’s all . . .” He squeezed his eyes shut, but two stubborn tears spilled out anyway.
“I’m so sorry,” Adathan murmured as he stroked William’s hand with his thumb. “It must be hard for you to—”
William huffed. “Not nearly as hard as it is for him.”
“You’re not wrong,” Adathan said softly. “But it doesn’t invalidate the way you feel.”
William opened his eyes. “Yeah? Well, I feel like shit.” Why had he thought it would be a good idea to tell Adathan about Oliver’s accident? They were supposed to be celebrating, not wallowing in misery.
William tried to pull his hand away, but Adathan held it firmly in place. “It’s the first time you’re allowing yourself to talk about this, isn’t it?” Adathan asked.
William stared at him, taken aback by his forwardness. Adathan no longer looked small and vulnerable as he unflinchingly held William’s gaze. But it was still just an act. He was faking—pretending to care.
William could put an end to their conversation. He could order Adathan to release his hand. He could have him switch back to his Serviteur mode. He could tell Adathan it was time to go to bed, then run a warm bath for himself and relax. Finally relax. He could.
Why didn’t he?
“I’m here for you, William. You can tell me anything.” Adathan moved his chair closer, his piercing eyes making William feel like he could see right through him. It was impossible; they’d only just met. It was just something he’d been trained to fake convincingly—like fortune-tellers did.
“Anything,” Adathan emphasized.
William simultaneously felt trapped and drawn in as Adathan’s knee pressed against his leg. He averted his gaze, catching sight of the bandages on Adathan’s right hand that was partly concealed under the table.
A heavy weight settled in William’s chest. He couldn’t push Adathan away—not when he was trying so hard. Still, it didn’t feel right to reduce him to some sort of venting dumpster, either.
Treat him like Oliver would.
“You can tell me anything too,” William said.
Adathan smiled. “Thank you, William. You’re a great friend.”
A friend. Could it be that simple? It seemed far-fetched, yet it may be the best outcome they could hope for.
Adathan could be a friend to Oliver, too.
William took a deep breath. “Oliver. Recently he . . . told me he considered . . . ending his life.”
William flinched as Adathan sprang to his feet and wrapped his arms around him. He’d never had his face pressed against someone’s chest before. It was a strange . . . but not uncomfortable perspective. Before he knew it, he was returning Adathan’s embrace. “He says he’s better now, but . . .”
“You’re worried it’ll cross his mind again?”
William nodded, his throat making an embarrassing sound as he tried to hold back his tears. He was so furious at the universe for what had happened to Oliver, he had to make a conscious effort not to dig his fingers into Adathan’s back as he tightened his embrace.
Why did the kindest souls always have to suffer the most?
“It must hurt,” Adathan said as he stroked William’s hair. “To know that someone you hold dear suffers so much, he considered leaving this world.”
William nodded again. “Yeah,” he whispered. He closed his eyes, the languid dance of Adathan’s fingers in his hair making him ache for more—for what Adathan would never have to offer. “And I can’t do anything about it.”
“You can, and you are.”
William huffed, but he couldn’t find the energy to protest. He couldn’t find the energy to do much of anything. He just wanted to stay like this and let his tears leak out until he had none left.
So he did.
William closed his eyes and let the warmth of Adathan’s embrace lure him in, the tension in his shoulders and jaw easing slightly with every rise and fall of Adathan’s chest. He exhaled a long breath, focusing on the sensation of Adathan’s heartbeat against his cheek as his internal storm slowly died down. Of all the ways he hadn’t expected this day to end, crying in another man’s arms was undoubtedly at the top of the list.
Ashe Green 