Page 16 of Alastair

The muscle in Alastair’s jaw twitched.

“It’s always the right time for food,” Raiden said. “When you’re happy, sad, stressed, or preparin’ for a battle. Good food helps you think better. Makes your belly happy too.” He glanced back at Nico. “Ain’t that right, kid?”

Nico nodded.

Titan softly sighed. “What have I told you about eavesdropping?”

“You said it’s rude,” Nico responded.

“Uh-huh.” Titan gave him a blank stare.

With a sheepish grin, Nico slowly retreated from the window.

“I’ll send a few of my warriors to help your vampire allies in Echo Bay,” I told the boys. “If Purah is still in town, they’ll find him too. He can’t target more cities if he’s dead.”

With one final glance at Alastair, I released my wings and shot back up into the air. Once out of his line of sight, I expelled the shaky breath I’d been holding. Being around him was becoming harder as of late, as if the seal I’d placed on my soul to block my bond to him was fading, taking my self-control and every bit of common sense with it.

In all the years I’d lived, there’d only been one thing I desired. And it was the one thing I could never have. So I had locked it away. Pretended it didn’t exist.

Itcouldn’texist.

Oliver was waiting for me when I returned to the celestial realm. As my second-in-command, he was well disciplined and a strong fighter, but he had a rare gentleness. His power revolved around the earth; having the ability to send and receive messages through the trees, uproot the ground, and create massive walls that acted as shields. He could also help life grow and flourish, providing nourishment to plants and flowers. Crops too.

When mortals had prayed to the gods in ancient times for a healthy harvest, it had often been Oliver who’d answered those prayers. His soul weapon was a silver flute with gold inlay that, when played, awoke the energy in the earth around him.

“Gather a small force and send them to Echo Bay,” I told him. “Purah is up to his old tricks again.”

“Yes, sir.” Oliver bowed his head before rushing off.

I continued toward the training grounds. Michael would undoubtedly be there. When he wasn’t pestering me or stuck in council meetings—he loathed them—he practically lived and breathed training. Arriving at the field, I spotted him up ahead, wielding his fiery sword.

Flames licked along the blue-tinted blade as he sliced through the air and sent out a rippling wave of fire. The blast hit the target, sending it up in a blazing inferno.

“I’ve made my decision,” I said from behind him.

Michael looked at me over his shoulder, sweat dampening his brow. “And?”

“I’ll do it.” I steeled myself against the sudden bout of nerves swirling in the pit of my stomach. “I’ll stay with the cursed sons until the war comes to a close.”

I didn’t have much of a choice. Alastair’s earlier behavior—how close he’d come to putting himself in harm’s way—was proof that even after thousands of years, he still needed me there to keep him in line.

“Good.” Michael flashed a crooked smile. “Because I already told Uriel you would. He’s making arrangements as we speak.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“I love you too, brother.” Michael sheathed his sword and faced me. “That love is why I knew your decision before you even made it.”

“Go bathe. You reek of dirt and sweat.” I turned away, hearing his light chuckle as I left the field.

Chapter Three

Alastair

“What Lazarus doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” I said, grabbing two celestial steel daggers and sliding them into my combat boots. My sword was at my hip.

“Your funeral.” Phoenix crossed his arms as he lounged against the wall. “I don’t feel right keeping this from Bell. He and I don’t keep secrets between us.”

We were in Baxter’s study, if you could even call it that. He had very little in the way of literature, unless you counted his collection of retro porn magazines and erotica books. Which I didn’t. He had a desk, comfortable armchairs, and a fireplace though, which reminded me of home.