Page 32 of Alastair
Bellamy’s eyes remained hazel as our gazes locked. For the past forty or so years, they had changed to the same shade as Joseph’s eyes. But now, Lust struggled to read me. A sign that my fractured heart had mended—that I’d moved on from the man I’d once loved. It should’ve come as a relief or affected me in some way.
Instead, I felt nothing. I had lost so many lovers in my lifetime. The heartache always faded after a while.
“I saw an opportunity and took it,” I responded.
“Yeah? And how well did that turn out?” Bellamy shoved me away and ran a hand through his blond hair. “You nearly got my mate killed! You put yourself at risk. Fuck knows what happened to Laz. He’s probably lying in bloody pieces in the snow right now.”
“Stop talking,” I growled, surprised by the sudden anger surging in my chest. Beneath the anger lay something else too. Something much more bitter. Painful.
“Why? Is the truth too big of a pill to swallow, you prideful prick?”
“Watch your tone.”
“Is that an order?” Bellamy’s nostrils flared.
“You’d know if it was.”
Clara exited the bedroom holding an empty vial—an elixir she’d given Phoenix to help him rest after the damage Lucifer inflicted on his mind. “Both of you need to take a breather. Demon boy is asleep and will be just fine.” Her face fell, and she worried her bottom lip. “Any news on Lazarus?”
Despite Lazarus’ prickly demeanor and coldness, Clara had developed a soft spot for him. Whether he wanted to be or not, he had become one of her “boys” right along with the rest of us.
“No,” I answered. “He won’t respond to me.”
“My role in this war has come to an end. I leave the rest to you.”
His words refused to leave my head. If he died, his blood would be on my hands. Carrying the weight of that guilt would crush me. It already was.
“We left him alone with Lucifer,” Bellamy said. “He’s not walking away from that.”
Castor stood against the wall, arms crossed. “Who knew that asshole was the self-sacrificing type? I guess his true colors showed in the end. In his own way, he really did care about us.”
Past tense. Lazarus was already dead in their minds.
“We killed him,”Pride whined from inside me.
I had lost comrades before. So why the hell did the thought of losing Lazarus hurt this damn much?
The air became thick, and the walls started to close in around me. Pressure built in my skull. My hands shook. I had to get out of there. With my chest tight and blood ringing in my ears, I stormed down the hall and dashed outside, sucking in a lungful of fresh air once on the front porch.
“Al?” Raiden called through the open door. He was in the kitchen, preparing a late lunch for everyone. “You okay?”
My wings burst from my shoulder blades, tearing my shirt to shreds. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I didn’t want them to see me so out of control. The panic clawing inside me and the deep ache in my bones took away my ability to mask my emotions.
I was breaking apart.
I lifted into the air and flew toward the cloudless blue sky. At that exact moment, snow was falling in Echo Bay. The place where our mansion once stood had become a graveyard of memories, of burnt rubble and snow covered ash. Would it become Lazarus’ tomb as well?
As he drew his final breath beneath a darkened winter sky, would I be able to hear the thunderous boom of his soul exiting his body from my place under the sun thousands of miles away?
The flapping of wings sounded as something large barreled toward me from the ground. Black feathers tinged in red glimmered from my peripherals.
Galen didn’t say a word as he caught up to me, and he kept his eyes forward. The bond between us was closer, much like the one Daman had with Bellamy, and Raiden had with Castor.
“I’m fine.”I used telepathy, not trusting my voice enough to speak.
“No, you’re not. So shut the fuck up and let me fly beside you.”
Galen didn’t sugarcoat anything. He was blunt and far from the comforting type. But I could always rely on him, even if I was too stubborn to admit it aloud.
