Page 8 of Daman
“Come here, smalls.” Raiden bent down so Gray could climb on his back, and then he carried him from the dining room.
Gray reminded me of Lycus. Both were small-framed with wild blond hair. Both had a sweet nature. Although it had been thousands of years since Lycus had died, I sometimes caught myself thinking of him. Remembering. He’d been like a little brother to me. Taken from the world too soon.
He was the first person I’d cared about that I had lost. The first of many. After a while, I’d learned to shut myself off from everyone. I had built a wall around my heart. It was easier not to care.
“Any news from Baxter?” Galen asked. Baxter was the leader of a group of Nephilim in Athens. Our allies in the war against the son of Lucifer.
I turned from my spot at the patio door and looked at them. Bellamy met my gaze from beside Castor, his eyes flickering between various colors.
With his power, his eyes shifted to whatever color the viewer found most appealing—or to the color that belonged to the person they loved. But not with me. Lust had never been able to get a read on me. Maybe it was because I didn’t have a set type.
“Shades are hitting Athens hard,” Alastair answered. “But Baxter and his force have been able to keep them at bay for the most part.”
“Fucking burnt dickwads,” I muttered.
Shades were the lowest level of demons. They appeared as swirling black smoke with pale white faces and empty pits for eyes. A very thin layer of skin was beneath the smoke that constantly burned, giving them a putrid stench of burning flesh and char.
“What about Sirena?” Raiden asked, walking back into the room.
“She and her warriors have kept a close eye on the surrounding islands and haven’t seen any signs of demons for about two weeks.”
“That’s good, at least,” Castor said, one arm going across the back of Kyo’s shoulders. “I guess even demons need a holiday every now and then.”
A beeping came from the kitchen.
“My pie!” Raiden dashed through the archway and toward the oven. Moments later, he sniffed. “Man, that smells like heaven. Good thing I made two. This one’s all mine.”
“You gluttonous motherfucker,” Castor called out to him. “You better leave some for the rest of us. I love apple pie.”
As they bickered, a knot formed in my gut. I would be leaving the mansion soon. For how long? I didn’t know. The ice dragons had agreed to ally with us in the fight against Asa on the condition that I married Prince Warrin. In a few weeks, I’d leave Echo Bay and travel to a snowy village in Russia to marry a complete stranger.
Once again ripped away from my home.
“It won’t be for forever,” Alastair said. He had read my mind, an ability we all shared thanks to our deep bond. “This isn’t the last Thanksgiving you’ll get to spend with us.”
“Whatever.” I averted my eyes from his. “I don’t care.”
A total lie. Despite my sour attitude, I loved each of my brothers. I didn’t want to leave them. That thought stayed in the back of my mind as we helped Raiden set the table and sat down to eat.
Clara fed Gray a bite of green bean casserole despite his earlier protest.
He curled his nose as he chewed. But then his eyes widened. “I like it!”
“I knew you would.” She scooped some onto his plate.
Forks clinked, and conversation flowed. I sat at the end of the table, lost in my head as they talked.
“Hey.” Bellamy kicked my leg.
“What?” I looked at him. His golden hair waved to the bottom of his ears, and his sharp, angled jawline led to a pair of naturally pouty lips, the kind everyone—man and woman—lost their shit over.
“Marriage isn’t the end of the world.”
“Funny coming from you.” I stabbed at a piece of turkey with my fork. “If it’s not a big deal, why don’tyoumarry him?”
“He doesn’t want me. Shocking, I know. He must not have any taste.”
My stomach fluttered at the memory of us speaking with King Nikolai and Warrin at Castor and Kyo’s wedding in October. Warrin had looked right at me and said he wanted to marry me.
