I let out a frustrated sigh. “Holden? Matthew Holden doesn’t deserve her.” There was a ferocity behind the words.
“And why not?”
“Look at him! He’s a pathetic, blundering mortal and she… well, she’s a demigoddess.”
Silence settled between us, heavy with words that neither of us wanted to voice.
“So, who deserves her then, Gray?” Erik eventually asked as the sun started to rise over the horizon.
A single answer, one word, sprung to mind, but I swallowed it. Turning to him, I said, “You tell me, Erik. This is your department, no? You know whether she’s meant to be with Holden.”
“Even if they aren’t meant to be together, many people make mistakes before finding their life partner. Even immortals get it wrong sometimes,” he reasoned.
“Hunter doesn’t count.”
Hunter’s affairs were illustrious and well known. Erik should count himself lucky to have found Sloan.
“They might bond,” Erik said hopefully.
Wrong thing to say, because I went ahead and uprooted an entire tree at the end of the garden at the thought.
The thought of them bonding stirred jealousy in me to the same degree as when Archer kissed her cheek. Visions of Holden sitting at dinner with her brother and Sophie drifted into my mind. Scott resting against him as she laughed, openly and freely, in her element surrounded by her family. By people she loved and allowed to have her heart.
How the fuck had Holden cemented himself by her side?
“Grayson, this needs to stop,” Erik said firmly. “She needs to find happiness.”
“Let her then,” I spat the words into the early morning as pain shot through my chest. “I couldn’t care less what she does.”
I was sitting in a beautiful park, the delicate scent of flowers drifting in the gentle breeze. Glancing around, I was alone, and getting to my feet, I realised I was back in Elysia. They led me along the paths, the surrounding heavens eerily silent.
Why was I here?
“Hello, angel.”
I spun around, heart thudding nervously, to find Archer standing there, smirking.
“Archer, what are you doing here?”
“This is my home.”
He stretched a hand out towards me, and I walked in his direction and took it. It felt solid and warm in my own.
“And I wanted to see you,” he said, green eyes fixed on mine.
“You wanted to see me?” I repeated, confused by the statement.
“You intrigue me, Quentin. There’s something about you I can’t quite put my finger on. I don’t just think it’s me that sees it. They all seem protective of you.”
Archer reached up and tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear, and his knuckles brushed against my cheek gently.
“What is it about you, Quentin?” he asked, looking at me curiously.
“I work with them,” I answered.
“There’s more than that.”
He leaned towards me and looked me in the eye. I wanted to snap them shut, worried he’d read every single thought that ran through my mind.
