Page 30 of Gray
Something else bugged me too: my brother’s arms around Mason… Mason resting against his bare chest. I ground my teeth together so hard they made a popping sound.
Once in Alastair’s study, Galen dropped Mason on the floor in front of the fire and stepped away from him, a slight snarl on his lips. Okay. He hadn’t enjoyed holding him at least. Not that I expected him to—Simon was the only one he had eyes for. But still.
I knelt beside Mason and touched his cheek. His skin was chilled from flying through the cold air. I grabbed the blanket I’d discarded earlier and draped it over him.
“Someone tell me what’s going on,” I said, looking up at Galen, then at Alastair. “Why is he here?”
Both of them stared at me with inquisitive expressions. Who wasn’t curious? Bellamy. He smirked, as if he knew exactly what was going on. Well, I wished he’d tell me because I had no freaking idea.
“Gray?”
The voice came from below me. I met Mason’s confused gaze. Gods. He was gorgeous. Long lashes, cognac eyes, and a strong jaw. A perfectly plump bottom lip. Was it as soft as it looked?
“Hi,” I said, pulling back a little to give him space. “You feeling okay?”
“I think so. Mind’s kinda foggy.”
“That’s Galen’s fault. I’ll beat him up for you later.” I glared up at my brother, who only stared at me with indifference. Butthole. When I focused back on Mason, my breath caught. His face was a lot closer than I’d expected. And he was smiling a bit.
“You have such big, brown eyes,” he said, lids still heavy. The effects of the sleeping power would wear off soon. Until then? His sleepiness made him say things he’d probably be embarrassed about once he fully woke. But damn if it didn’t make me tingly on the inside.
“Someone’s smitten,” Bellamy said.
“Shut your face, Bell,” I told him.
Mason blinked and became more alert. He sat up and looked around, gaze flickering between me and my three brothers present. “Where the hell am I? And who are you two?”
“I’m Alastair.” My eldest brother touched his chest before motioning to Bell. “And that’s Bellamy. You’re in our home.”
“Why? Wait.” He narrowed his eyes at Galen. “You did something to me.”
“Yeah, I shut your ass up.”
Mason pushed to his feet but swayed a little—still the groggy aftereffects of being put to sleep. I stood up and helped steady him. He visibly calmed as his eyes met mine. “Thanks.” His gaze flickered across my face before shifting to Galen. “That demon said you’re at war.”
It was Alastair who answered him. “We are.”
Mason steeled his expression. “Explain.”
“Don’t give me orders, human,” Alastair said, tone hard. “I owe you nothing. Neither a place to stay nor an explanation. I suggest watching that tongue of yours if you wish to keep it.”
He sounded so much like Lazarus right then.
The angel had broken each of us when we were boys and reshaped us into his warriors. Alastair had received the worst of it—beaten harder than the rest of us. He’d had higher expectations and responsibilities too. It got to the point where if one of us messed up, he was the one punished for it. Because he was supposed to lead us. Our mistakes were a reflection of that leadership, according to Lazarus.
“I didn’t ask to be brought here,” Mason countered. “And I don’t take kindly to threats.”
“Be nice to him, Al,”I projected into his mind.“You’d ask questions too if you woke up in an unknown place surrounded by strangers.”
Alastair glanced at me, and his annoyance lifted, albeit slightly. He then looked at Mason. “We’re at war with the son of Lucifer. He has an army of demons and monsters at his disposal. Some fallen angels and Nephilim as well.”
“Lucifer’s real?” Mason asked. “As in the fallen angel turned devil Lucifer?”
“Yes, but he’s no longer a threat. We defeated him thousands of years ago. But his son Asa has risen and hopes to follow in his father’s footsteps.”
“Thousands of years ago… Lucifer… a war between good and evil…” Mason blew out a breath and went over to sit in one of the armchairs. “This is a lot to process.”
I fought the urge to follow. My body ached to be closer to him. I wanted to burrow my nose into his jacket and inhale his warm scent. I rooted myself in place, though, and kept my distance.
