Page 46 of Alastair
“Says the one salivating at the thought of human food,” I countered. “Careful not to gorge yourself too much, or your belt will no longer buckle.”
Michael threw his head back with a hearty laugh. “I quite enjoy this uninhibited side of you, Lazarus. You must speak your mind more often.”
“My awesome personality is rubbing off on him,” Castor said.
“You should join us for breakfast,” Alastair said to me, holding my gaze only a moment before breaking it. Those blue eyes soon returned to me though, as if whatever made him divert them in the first place wasn’t nearly as strong as the pull not to look away.
That very well could’ve been all in my head. Wishful thinking. No.Notwishful thinking. Because I didn’t want that from him. He was only being civil because I had gone to his aid in Echo Bay.
Confused—and yet, oddly warm all of a sudden—I shifted my weight to my other heel. “I’m not hungry.”
“Then don’t eat.” Alastair’s delicate facial features complemented his toned body, lean yet solid. “Drink a cup of tea with me, and we can discuss our next course of action.”
Every muscle in my body begged me to say yes. Reason stopped me. Spending more time with Alastair was the equivalent of being chained to a wooden board and spun in circles as an enemy lodged celestial steel daggers at my head. One was bound to hit, and when it did, destruction would follow.
Actually… staring into his eyes in that moment? I’d rather take my chances with the daggers.
“Nope. No shop talk when food’s on the table.” Raiden shook his head. “That shit can wait until our bellies are happy.” He grabbed Titan’s hand and released his black wings. Orange reflected in the feathers. “We gotta go wake the kid. He’ll be pissed if he misses out on french toast.”
Castor chuckled. “If you go into those barracks talking about food, you’ll have Nico’s entire unit of hungry boys on your doorstep.”
That thought didn’t seem to trouble Raiden whatsoever. He smiled. “A full house and mountains of food sounds like a good time to me.” He then snapped his fingers at us. “I expect everyone to be at our house in one hour. No excuses. Come on, Ti.”
The two of them then took flight, their hands still joined as they flew toward the military housing.
Gray kept staring at me, then hid his face in the crease of Mason’s arm when I looked at him. His mate noticed and put himself more in front of Gray, gaze hardening as it met mine.
Gray’s unease around me had slightly lessened over the past year and a half as the situation with the war had caused us to interact more than we’d had in centuries. But the fear from when I’d taken him from Belphegor so long ago, and the years of tough training following it, had made me a sort of villain in his eyes.
Not that I could blame him.
I had followed Uriel’s orders. Blindly. It wasn’t until the boys had reached adulthood that I’d seen the harshness of my methods. Methods I’d believed were necessary to toughen them to the world. Sometimes, I regretted not showing them more compassion. However, hating me had been the fuel they had needed to persevere, if only to spite me. It had also brought them closer together. Strengthened their bond.
If I had to be the bad guy for that to happen, so be it.
“Leaving so soon?” Michael asked as I turned from the group. “Was the promise of an apple treat not enough to tempt you?”
“My presence would only ruin everyone’s appetite,” I said before lifting off the ground. Gray’s behavior was a reminder of that.
“If you change your mind, you know where to find us,”Alastair said.
As much as I wanted to respond, I didn’t. I flew farther out of reach and shoved thoughts of him aside. I had to. Air rippled through my feathers as I glided on the breeze. My wings took me higher in the sky toward the portal of the celestial realm.
Uriel probably wanted an update.
And I… well, I needed an excuse to put distance between me and a certain Nephilim.
Chapter Seven
Alastair
The setting sun made the sky look like it was on fire. Clouds caught the fading light in shades of red and orange, with a dark blue and gray wall above them, growing larger as the sun inched toward the horizon. Like ash chasing the flickering glow of flames.
I stood on the beach and breathed in the saltiness of the sea. The water was calm that evening, the tide a gentle ripple against the white sand.
Much had happened that day. After our morning training, Michael called a meeting between us and the allied commanders. Sirena and the water dragon leader, King Tatsuya, had met us at Baxter’s villa, and I had video called Warrin’s brother, King Nikolai—who was currently in the ice dragon kingdom.
After showing amazement over my phone and asking a million questions about the video calling function, Michael then further introduced himself to them and discussed the war, getting everyone on the same page. He was approachable yet also held an unmistakable air of authority that seemed to come effortlessly to him. Confident without giving the impression of haughtiness. He spoke, and people listened.
