Page 49 of Galen
An hour or so later, I returned to my room and took a quick shower before sitting by the window and peering out across the sea. I hadn’t realized how much I relied on my phone until I was forced to go almost a week without it. No checking social media, no reading ebooks, no playing that jewel-crushing game I was embarrassingly addicted to. No pulling up Google to research Nephilim.
All that aside, it was actually nice to unplug from the world for a while. And if I had to unplug, where better to do it than a fancy mansion by the sea surrounded by beautiful men?
I slid into bed around midnight, putting my glasses on the nightstand, and turned on the TV for background noise. As the narrator ofAncient Alienstalked about stone ruins found in the middle of nowhere, I shut my eyes, comforted by the familiarity of it. I could almost pretend I was in my loft.
I woke sometime later to the scent of sandalwood and something warm pressing to my temple. I cracked open my lids and saw Galen. The light from the TV lit up one side of his face. He looked exhausted even with my blurry vision.
“I apologize for waking you,” he whispered, moving away. “Go back to sleep.”
“Wait.” I reached out and grabbed his arm. “Don’t go.”
He stared at my hand before looking at me. “I shouldn’t have come in here.”
“Why did you?” I asked, my voice croaky from sleep. I became a little more alert and remembered the sensation of something warm on my temple, like soft lips. “You kissed me.”
“No, I didn’t.” His expression hardened. “You must’ve been dreaming.”
“You’re a horrible liar, Galen.”
A light huff escaped his lips before he put even more distance between us, stepping toward the door. “Go to sleep, Simon.”
“Did you mark me?”
His shoulders tensed, and he glared at me. “What?”
“Daman said you marked me. What does that mean?”
“I’m going to kill him,” he said in a deep voice. “It means nothing.”
“Am I going to turn into some kind of angel-human hybrid now? Like when a vampire bites someone? Do you have venom? Will I grow wings?”
Galen sharply exhaled and strode back over to the bed, the mattress dipping as he sat down. “No. You’re not going to turn into anything. You’ll stay human.”
“What does the mark mean then? What does it do?”
“I’m tired, Simon.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Can we talk about this in the morning?”
Before I could respond, he stretched out beside me and kicked off his shoes into the floor. I scooted over to give him more room, and he turned to his side and threw an arm across my stomach, closing his eyes. The tension left his body as minutes ticked by, and his breathing started to slow.
I settled in closer to him, pressing my face against the front of his shirt. Why did he have to smell so damn good? His arm tightened around me, and he nuzzled the top of my head before stilling again. He was asleep moments later, his soft breaths tickling my cheek.
Given how quickly he’d left my room last night after we fucked, I suspected he preferred to sleep alone. He must’ve been more tired than I thought.
Fine with me.
I breathed him in and relaxed on the exhale. A night in his arms didn’t sound so bad.
***
Something tickled the tip of my nose, and I jerked awake. Gray sat beside me on the bed, sunlight coming in through the window behind him.
“Morning,” he whispered, handing me my glasses.
I put them on and blinked a few times. Crusties were in the corners of my eyes. I’d slept hard. “What time is it?”
“Almost eleven,” Gray answered. “Raiden made waffles. I like mine with strawberries and whipped cream. A little chocolate syrup never hurt anyone either. Are you hungry?”
“Stop talking,” a cranky voice said at my nape.
