Page 27 of Beyond the Storm

I snorted. “Down, girl.”

She made a face at me. “You have no room to talk. That sweet boy in your arms has you wrapped around his cute little finger.”

She wasn’t wrong.

“Raiden called earlier,” I said. “He wants me and Gray to visit. You and Sirena should come too.”

Clara’s smile turned all mushy. “She’d love that. She misses the island life.”

Since the end of the war, Sirena had lived with Clara, but the two of them had visited her island in the Caribbean several times. They had discussed eventually moving to the island, or at least creating a second home together there, so they could travel back and forth whenever the urge struck. They’d make it work. I had no doubts.

“We’ll be back down soon,” I told her before leaving the kitchen.

I took the stairs to the second floor and went into our bedroom. Gray had decorated it with anime posters, shelves of plushies and manga, and his beloved collection of dick-o-saurus figures. Some might say he was childish, but it was a part of him I adored. Mainly because I understood the reason behind it. He had suffered through so much darkness in his long life. It was why he surrounded himself with cute things. They made him happy. And him being happy was all I wanted.

I placed him in bed and pulled the blanket up around him and his new sloth plush. He cuddled it. After taking off my shoes, I crawled in beside him, lying on top of the blanket. Instantly, he forgot about the stuffed animal and hugged me instead.

“Mason,” he mumbled in his sleep. His fingers gripped the front of my shirt.

“Rest, angel.” I caressed his jaw. “I’m not going anywhere.”

I never would.

***

Stars glimmered in the night sky. The clouds from earlier had cleared, giving us a perfect view.

After dinner, we had packed a blanket and some snacks before going to one of our favorite places: the lighthouse. Gray had then flown us up to the roof, where we’d set out the blanket and lain on top of it. He reclined on his back beside me, pointing out constellations. Well, not real ones. He created his own.

“That one looks like a walrus,” Gray said.

“What about that one?” I motioned to a different part of the sky that, to me, just looked like random speckles.

He tilted his head from side to side, brow wrinkled. “A potato.”

“And what did this potato do to earn his place in the sky?”

“Does a potatoneeda reason to be a hero?” Gray reached into the bag of chips and shoved a handful into his mouth.

“You’re eating his brethren right now.”

“They’re yummy too. Salty potato goodness.” He grinned before eating more. “Thank you for your sacrifice, little dudes. May you journey to Valhalla in style.”

“In style?”

“On the back of a rainbow-colored sloth wielding a battle-axe,” he said without missing a beat. His quick wit was yet another thing I loved about him. Sometimes, when he got excited, he talked ninety to nothing and jumped from one topic to the next so fast it gave me whiplash. But I loved that too.

My phone dinged from beside me, and I glanced at the screen. A text.

Storm:Checking in. All went well. Back at the motel now.

Releasing a sigh of relief, I typed back a reply. Crazy how I hadn’t realized I’d been worried until I got the “okay” from him.

Me:Good to hear. Now relax with pizza and beer. You’ve earned it.

Storm:Hell yeah I have. You with your boy?

Me:Yeah. He’s reading over my shoulder.