Page 54 of Alastair
Alastair’s hand fell away from my wrist. “There’s more you aren’t telling me. I can feel it.”
“Would it be so awful for him to learn the truth?”Michael had asked me once.
“Yes,”I had answered without a doubt in my mind.
But in that moment, with Alastair so close and staring at me with pleading eyes, I wasn’t as certain. I followed orders and cast aside all desires, all emotion, and lived my life for the good of my realm. So why did I suddenly find myself at a crossroads, struggling between choosing the righteous path or the one that had the potential to lead me to ruin?
It could also lead me to happiness.
But what would that possible happiness cost me?
“Say something.” Alastair’s voice was so thin. Fragile. “What else are you hiding?”
“And if I say I’m hiding nothing?”
“I’ll call you out for the liar you are,” he countered.
“You forget who you’re speaking to, boy.”
“Oh?” That challenge he mentioned earlier glimmered in his eyes. Something else did too—like a wicked delight. He was enjoying this back-and-forth between us. “That snarl and authoritative tone might’ve made me back down in the past, but it won’t work on me now. I see softness in your eyes now. I didn’t see it before.”
“What you see is annoyance. I have the mind to bend you over my knee and spank you like the brat you are.”
Alastair chuckled.
“This is funny to you?”
He moved in closer. “What’s funny is how hard you’re trying to change the subject.”
I studied him. “You won’t let this go, will you?”
“Not a chance. I’ll figure it out. One way or another.”
I believed him. My silence would mean very little now that he’d gotten it in his head that I was hiding something. Alastair was the type to keep prying until he figured it out. Which would not only make my job more difficult while watching over them during the war but also test me beyond my limits.
Because I was already so close to breaking. So close to ripping open my chest and letting him see the raw, potentially devastating things I’d kept locked away for thousands of years.
I turned away and rose into the air. The flapping of my wings stirred the leaves in the closest tree. I then glanced down at him. “Are you coming?”
His wings sprang from his shoulder blades. He flew beside me in silence as we soared above the trees toward the bungalow.
I didn’t look at him—didn’t acknowledge him at all. My heart was moments from bursting from my chest. One look into his eyes would be the thing to ignite that explosion. The sun touched the horizon now, minutes from disappearing from sight. We landed in the sand and approached the front door.
“Come inside,” I said, and my hand stilled on the handle. “But be warned. You won’t like what you hear.”
***
The kettle whistled on the stove. Alastair removed it from the heat and measured out the tea leaves. I had suggested he make some for us, mainly to bide my time. After keeping the truth from him for so long, he had finally started to suspect. My confession that I cared for him and his brothers only worsened that suspicion.
Now, it was like Pandora’s box. The lid had been lifted just enough to release the chaos within. And there was no putting it back inside.
“Cream?” he asked.
“Please.”
Alastair stopped stirring, and his spine straightened. “That’s a word I’m not used to hearing.”
“Forget I said it, then.”
