Page 45 of Galen
Castor frowned.
“And just look at Alastair,” I continued. “When Joseph finally passes, it will crush his spirit. Again. Why would I wish that upon myself?”
“I don’t know.” A sad smile touched his lips before he returned his gaze to the sky. “Sometimes I think it’s worth it though. The pain. All the men I’ve loved have touched my life in ways I’ll never forget. I think of one man each time I look at the moon. Another one when I hear his favorite song. Losing them hurt, but loving them? It brought light to my dark world, if only for a moment.”
“I will never love Simon,” I said. I wouldn’t let myself. “He’s no different than any other human I’ve fucked. This discussion is pointless.”
“Right. Because you mark all of the men you screw in the club too. Totally normal.”
“I’m not in the mood for your smart-ass comments, Greed.”
Castor smirked. “You know, I always wondered why we were given the ability to mark our mates. It seems rather beastlike.”
“Because wearebeasts.”
At least, I felt like one. A memory began to surface, and I tried to shove it back behind the wall I’d erected in my mind. A wall that kept back all the shit I wanted to forget. A piece of it slipped through the cracks anyway.
I remembered beating against the bars of a cage, tasting blood as I roared and shouted obscenities.
“The world will burn!” I screamed. “I’ll kill them all!”
My six brothers stood on the other side of the bars, their eyes glistening as they stared at me.
“I have no choice but to kill him,” Lazarus said, stepping toward the cage, a sword of fire appearing in his hand.
“No!” Alastair grabbed the angel. “Don’t do this. I beg of you.”
“What choice have I?” Lazarus jerked free of my brother’s hold. “His mind is gone. He’s nothing more than a blood-hungry beast.”
“Galen,” Alastair said, rushing toward me. Tears wet his pale cheeks. “This isn’t you. Snap out of it.”
I slammed my body against the bars in front of him, snarling.
“Galen?” Castor touched my arm.
I looked down at his hand, confused for a moment. The metallic taste of blood faded away, as did the red spots in my vision. The echoes of my screams silenced. It was only a memory. Yet, the feelings it stirred up felt so real.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I…” I glanced around, feeling an icy sensation fill my chest.
And then I jumped off the cliff, free falling before letting my wings catch on the breeze. My chest brushed the water’s surface before I shot up higher into the air.
Castor didn’t come after me, but I sensed him poking around in my head as he tried to get a read on my thoughts. I flew faster. The more distance I put between us, the harder it would be for him to get inside my mind unless I spoke directly to him.
I just wanted to be alone.
Without intending to, I ended up going to Simon’s antique shop. I perched on the rooftop and listened to the sounds of the city. Sirens, car doors slamming, humans leaving bars as last call came. I leaned over the edge of the roof and opened the window before climbing inside Simon’s loft. Castor and I had fixed the broken window, and we’d cleaned the trail of blood leading from his living quarters down the stairs.
The memory of Simon so close to death would always be seared into my head. When I’d picked him up and he’d nuzzled my chest, a soft whine coming from his throat, my heart had cracked wide open.
I should’ve known right then to keep my distance from Simon. Even without knowing a thing about him, I’d been drawn to him. Connected on a level I didn’t understand.
“What are you doing to me, Simon Parks?” I walked through his loft and sat on the edge of his bed, gliding a hand across his pillow. “You’re nothing but a weak human.”
A human I’d marked as mine.
By the time I returned to the mansion, it was almost 4:00 a.m. And god help me, I went to Simon’s room. He slept in his bed, lightly snoring. His sandy-brown hair fell into his eyes, and I moved it aside before leaning down and softly kissing him on the forehead.
