Page 120 of Alastair
“Always,” I responded, taking in his appearance. His hair was fixed in a sophisticated yet casual style with the top combed back, and he wore a long-sleeved navy-blue sweater with a white collared shirt beneath it. Fitted dark wash jeans complemented his long legs. “You look…”
“Handsome?” He closed the distance between us. “Breathtaking? Butter me up a little. Pride demands compliments.”
I lightly grazed the backs of my knuckles over his cheek. “I will if you’re good.”
“I suppose I need to be extra good, then.” Alastair ran his hands up my bare chest before resting them at my nape. “One day, I’ll get you into a suit. Hey, don’t glare at me like that. You can’t walk around shirtless forever.”
“I can and I will.” I caught him around the waist, and he rewarded me with a crinkly-eyed smile that hit me right in the heart. “However, for you… I will consider this request.”
“So formal.” His fingers played with the back of my hair. “You need some of Raiden’s eggnog. Dargan and Evangelos can’t get enough of it, so it’s angel approved.”
“You seem different tonight.”
“Do I?” He smiled again. “How so?”
The reason for the change struck me. And it was like a dagger to my heart. “You seem happy.”
His pale blue eyes searched my face. “Unlike you. You look like you’re seconds from falling apart.”
Little did he know I’d already fallen apart. Many times. But I kept pulling myself back together again. Something I would no longer be able to do the moment his soul exited his body and went into the sword. The moment he left me.
“Forgive me if I’m not in the holiday spirit. I find little worthy of celebrating today.”
“Why not? Today was a success,” he said, eyes bright. Pride more than likely aided in his good mood, pleased by that success. “Asa gave us Night Fall. All we need now is to prepare the spell. I’ll speak to Clara about it tomorrow.”
“Will she be performing the incantation?”
“Yes.” That excitement in his eyes dimmed a little. “Well, that’s my hope. I haven’t asked her yet. In the vision, I heard chanting. It was her voice, so I’m confident she’ll agree.”
“She’s a powerful witch. If anyone can do it, it’s her.”
He smirked. “She’d love to hear you say that.”
“I forbid you from telling her,” I grumbled.
“Face it.” Alastair nestled in closer to my chest. “You’re one of her boys. You’re family.”
Family. The word touched me much deeper than I expected. But as I held Alastair, I realized that’s what we were. He was my fated mate, but his brothers meant so much to me as well. And, yes, the witch too.
“I understand now why Clara came into our lives,” he added, his voice softer. “Everything that’s happened has been leading to this final confrontation with Lucifer.”
“The final confrontation.” As a strand of his bangs slipped from its hold, I brushed it aside, my heart squeezing. “I wish it would never come.”
I saw it, then, a slight quiver of his chin. A cracking of his mask. “Don’t think about tomorrow or any of the days that follow. I want to spend this Christmas with those I love, happy and not stressing over what I can’t change.” He pushed his face to my neck. “Stay in this moment with me, Laz.”
“I’m here.” I rested my cheek on his head. “Nowhere else.”
“Hey, you two,” Castor said from the archway. “Stop with the lovey-dovey shit and come make your plates. Ray won’t let anyone eat until you do.”
Being spoken to like that came as a slight shock. In the past, the Nephilim brothers had either said nothing in my presence, watched their tone if they did, or told me off on a few occasions.
But now? Castor spoke to me like I was just another of the mates.
“You’re smiling,” Alastair said with an awed expression.
My palm slid against his as I linked our fingers. “Maybe I’m happy too.”
That crinkly-eyed smile returned. “I’m glad.”
