I blinked. “Of course not,” I said carefully. “I never laugh at you, Gall.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Something was happening in him. Something strange. I held his gaze, frowning, and tried to understand how it was that Lucifer seemed to reach him.
“When did Lucifer say that to you, Gall?”
Gall’s brows drew down to shadow his golden eyes. “You never call him Grandfather. Always Lucifer.”
I didn’t miss that he’d dodged the question.
Gall was very many things that I admired, but keen eyed for manipulation was not one of them. I looked around the room. Had Lucifer already returned, and was merely masked from me? Or was something else going on?
“I believe any title that includesfatheris earned… not merely born,” I muttered.
“You’re just mad because I stopped calling you Papa.”
“No, that hurts me, Gall, but I’m not angry. I’m worried.”
In the past, the Gall I’d known only had two responses to being told I was worried: If he felt my concern was valid, he felt shame, or grief that he caused it, and would apologize, or try to make amends. If he didn’t, he rushed to brightly reassure me with any reason he knew, that I didn’t need to fear.
This time, however, neither of those things happened.
“I’m worried, too,” he said sharply.
I nodded. “I know. We can both feel those feelings—”
“Stop talking to me like I’m a child!” he growled, his body tensing.
I braced, ready to struggle with him again. “I’m not, Gall. I’m just—”
“You are! You think I’m a kid. A nothing. I’m aking.I’m a mate! I’m… I’m a man—a warrior.” He grabbed his warrior’s length and shook it, reminding me.
I was saddened—Lucifer had somehow grown Gall’s warrior’s length. It should have been a bare two inches, still sticking up from the back of his head. “I know you’re a warrior, Gall. I was there… remember? I love that you and Istral have found each other. I’m very proud of the way you take care of her.”
He blinked, then his expression grew dark. “And?”
“And, what?”
“King. I’mking!You never call me King, or Sire, or anything! Just my name!”
“For the same reason you don’t call me General, or Sire—I’m a king also, Gall. But we are intimate. We know and love each other. We don’t have to use titles—”
It was the wrong thing to say. His hands slapped to my chest, and he shoved me off my balance, so I stumbled back a step.
He wasstrong.
“You arenotking!”
“I’m the crowned King of the Shadekin—the Fetch. Didn’t he tell you that, Gall?” It was a misstep. I knew it the moment the words were out of my mouth. Gall despised having his ignorance pointed out. He would be agitated by it on the best of days.
Before I could find the words to correct myself and reassure him, he leaned into my space, snarling through his teeth.
“What aboutyourmate?”
“What about Yilan?” I asked carefully, wanting to remind him how much Yilan loved him, but Gall only stepped right up, toe to toe with me and his eyes narrowed.
“What if Grandfather hadyourmate?” he growled.
