Chapter eighteen
Mal
Gray is as light as a feather. I love the feel of his warm weight in my arms. He was in a blissed out daze as I pulled him out of the swing, and then he fell fast asleep in the car. Now I have lifted him up in a bridal carry to get him to the basement, and he has barely stirred. A soft murmur and snuggling against my chest was his only reaction.
My heart thumps. He trusts me. This beautiful, damaged boy trusts me. I have earned the greatest treasure in all the world. But I don’t feel worthy of it.
I carry him into our basement flat and place him in his hammock. He grumbles sleepily as I undress him, but soon settles back down. His cheeks are flushed a pretty pink, but I tuck a blanket over him anyway.
His newfound strength and power is pulsing off of him. My plan worked. He is fully fed. Nourished and sated. Probably for the first time in very many years. It is something I can be proud of.
The process was fun too. Fucking him in the club whilst almost swimming in everyone’s envy was great. They all wanted Gray. But I was the only one who got to have him. He is mine and mine alone and showing everyone that was one hell of a kick.
A heavy sigh escapes me. Possessiveness is not my thing. I just want the holes I use to be tight and willing.
I run a hand over my face. I used to want that. Look at me now. Standing here watching Gray as he sleeps, utterly unable to step away.
I’m completely whipped. And I have no idea how he has done it.
I never thought I’d fall in love. I’m not even sure if that is what this is. Am I in love? Am I even capable of such a thing?
I look down at Gray. Even just the sight of him makes my heart flutter. I want to protect him and keep him safe. I want to make him happy. I need to see him smile and hear him purr. Is this what love is? Or is it some other strong emotion?
What is it about this dark-eyed demon that has stolen my heart?
Do I merely like that he needs me so much? Have I fallen for his sweetness that shines through his trauma?
Another heavy sigh escapes me. Does anyone ever truly know why they love someone? I suspect it is something that can’t be analyzed and put on a spreadsheet. It just is. It happens, and that is that.
Though there has to be something I can do about it. I may be in love with Gray, but that doesn’t mean I’m any good for him. Any sort of relationship is a terrible idea.
And that’s presuming he doesn’t tear my intestines out when he discovers that he is far, far stronger than me.
What a fucking mess.
Suddenly, an exquisite melody flows into my mind. Enchanting, peaceful and wonderful. I walk away from Gray to follow it. I need to hear more of it. I need to find the source and bathe in the sound.
I blink and shake my head. I’m standing on the edge of the pool. Blue is half submerged and glaring up at me. The little shit ensorcelled me. Fuck him.
“What did you do to Gray? He reeks of many different men!” he snarls at me.
“Nothing he didn’t want,” I smirk.
The siren’s eyes flash with blue fire. His hand grabs a hold of my ankle in a death grip. Shit. I’m about to be pulled under and drowned. Adrenaline is making me tremble, but it is otherwise impotent. It’s not going to save me. I don’t think anything can.
“He needed to feed! I’m not enough for him!” I plead and I hate how panicked my voice sounds.
Blue’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t pull me under. Not yet.
“I took him to a sex club. I didn’t let anyone else touch him. I just took their offerings and placed it inside him.”
The siren grimaces in distaste. The blue pool lights are haloing his short, choppy blond hair. It looks like he has tried hacking it off in an effort to look less alluring. It hasn’t worked. He is ethereally beautiful. And terrifying. Sirens are dangerous motherfuckers.
“Gray consented. He was okay with it. It worked.”
“You are lying!” spits Blue, and his fury is frightening.
His eyes are full of rage. I see his hatred and his anger. I see him. All of him. Down to his soul. He was terrified in the harem and now he hates all men. And the idea of being touched is abhorrent. He cannot fathom sex ever being good or pleasurable. My heart twists in pity. Poor boy. What a thing to be robbed of.
