Page 11 of Daman

“Fuck off, reaper.” Bellamy stretched out more than necessary, taking up more room on the couch. “Don’t you have a soul to torment or something?”

“I could torment you.”

“Tease.” Bellamy winked at him.

Rolling my eyes, I took a drink.

“Are you really getting married next week?” Taeden rooted himself on the floor between my legs.

“Yep.” I slid my fingers through the light brown strands of his hair.

The reaper smiled back at me. “Can I fuck you one last time before you go?”

“Tempting offer,” I said, letting my hand fall away from him. “But no.”

Even though marrying Warrin was strictly for the alliance, I didn’t feel right fucking around on him. My moral compass was screwed up. Being a wicked bitch to people was fine, but I drew the line at cheating.

I tipped my drink back, downing it in a single gulp.

“Better slow down,” Bellamy said. “Or you’ll have one hell of a hangover tomorrow.”

I didn’t listen.

The next morning, I groaned at the light coming through the window and rolled over on my stomach, putting the pillow over my head. Hangovers for Nephilim didn’t last long. We couldn’t get sick like mortals, and our bodies healed quickly. My head usually pounded for half an hour before it finally eased. Those thirty minutes were torture though.

“Kill me,” I said as my bedroom door creaked open.

“Never.” Gray pounced on my back. “Come downstairs. Raiden made breakfast.”

“He always makes breakfast. I’ll pass.”

“But…” Gray shifted his weight and lifted my pillow so he could peer down at me with his big brown eyes. “This is the last time we’ll get to eat breakfast together for a while.”

“Are you pouting? Seriously?”

When he nodded, his wild blond hair softly bounced. “If you say no, I’ll start crying too. Do you really want that to be the last thing you see before you get on the plane? My tears?”

“You’re such a drama queen.” I shoved the blanket off and got out of bed. After pulling on a pair of sweats, I followed him into the hall.

Green garland was draped on the railing of the staircase, and a fifteen-foot tree greeted us in the foyer with white lights and red decorations. Alastair preferred an eloquent Christmas look, while Gray was all about quirkiness and crazy colors.

The living room had been turned into a mix between Santa’s workshop and candy land. A toy train circled the white tree in front of the bay windows. Colorful lights danced along the branches, and it was decorated with candy canes, vibrant green shimmery garland, and pink and blue ornaments. It was topped with a huge fake peppermint candy.

Stockings hung from the mantel above the fireplace, one for each of us. Gray had covered them in glitter and doodled cutesy things he liked, like kittens and stars. His had a sloth on it.

Something in the tree branches caught my eye, and an unexpected laugh bubbled from me. The green dick statue Gray had brought home from Simon’s antique shop was nestled in the tree with a red bow on the tip.

“I’m waiting for Simon to notice it.” Gray grinned.

“He’ll smash it to pieces.”

“He wouldn’t dare hurt Dino-Pete. No matter what Simon says, he loves him.”

“Mhm. Sure.”

“Morning, jerk,” Bellamy greeted me as Gray and I entered the dining room.

“Right back at you, pretty boy.”