Page 52 of Alastair

I sharply exhaled, realizing a moment too late that I’d been holding my breath.

His eyes opened.

I froze. By the look of it, so did he. For several painful heartbeats, we only stared at each other. Hard to tell which was stronger: my mortified shame at having been caught gawking at his nakedness or his shock from having been gawked at.

I broke eye contact first, averting my gaze to the sand beneath my boots. It was courser, with tiny pebbles and rocks. “You weren’t answering me.”

“So you spy on me?”

“I wasn’t spying,” I said, my cheeks on fire. “I didn’t know you were here until…” The flames in my cheeks spread to the tips of my ears. Then, more confidently, I looked at him. “Put some clothes on. We need to talk.”

Chapter Eight

Lazarus

When I’d opened my eyes to see Alastair staring at me, the cylinders in my brain had stopped firing, cutting off the flow of information to the rest of my body. My heart stilled in my chest, and my breaths froze in my lungs.

“Put some clothes on,” he said, face flushed but voice steady. “We need to talk.”

Alastair turned his back to me without me having to ask.

I waded in the water until I reached the rock where I’d laid out my pants and boots. No towel. The swim had been more of an impulsive decision after dealing with Uriel earlier in the day to discuss the recent attacks, then the light badgering from Michael once I returned to the island. I had wanted a moment to myself—to let nature soothe my troubled mind. The waterfall had reminded me of home.

Also like home? Being interrupted while enjoying said waterfall.

Only I’d never imagined it would be Alastair.

“What do you want to talk about?” I asked once dressed. Instead of putting on my boots, I carried them as I approached him. The soft sand beneath the soles of my feet was pleasant. “Make it quick.”

“Why? Have somewhere to be?”

“My business is no concern of yours.” I tried to keep the strict tone I normally used with him. It helped hide the stir of vulnerability I felt when in his presence. “If you’ve come to waste my time, you can leave.”

“Cut the tough-guy act.”

“Pardon?” I met his eyes, pretending I didn’t notice the way the fading sunlight shone on his blue irises, bringing out the specks of silver.

“You heard me.” Alastair’s jaw clenched. So did his fists as they rested at his sides. “It’s taken me longer than I care to admit to catch on, and I still don’t fully understand it… but—” He stepped closer. “—you aren’t really this cold. It’s an act.”

Nerves knotted in my gut. I brushed past him and released my wings. “You’re speaking nonsense.”

“Am I?”

I stopped but didn’t turn around.

“Then explain it to me, Lazarus.”

“Explain what?” I asked with a growl, spinning to face him.

“Why you risked your life to save mine.”

“Must I repeat myself? You and your brothers are the key to—”

“Winning the war. I know.” Alastair strode forward until he stood less than a foot away. “However, that doesn’t explain why you saved Daman in Hoia Baciu. That was before Lucifer was freed from his cage. Were we an advantage to have on your side while fighting Asa? Yes. But you didn’tneedus.”

“Alastair—”

“There’ve been other indications before then as well,” he cut in. “How you refused to condemn Kallias’ soul to the pit and disobeyed an order because of it. How you stepped in to kill Caim because Castor was too beside himself to do it.”