Darkest Temptation (The Dark Ones Saga 4) - Page 62

“Watchers,” he whispered and then uttered deep in his throat a scratchy, “My brothers.”

MASON

My jeans barely fit over my massive body. The minute I put on my old shirt, it ripped across my chest like a bad super-hero movie.

I was used to being shirtless but this felt… different. As if I was standing on holy ground and would get struck down for not having enough clothing on.

Serenity gave me a terrified look before quickly redressing. I wanted to take her fear, all of it, and make it go away.

But when I was the very thing she had been taught to fear?

Like every immortal out there?

What then?

It was a mistake; it had to be.

I felt my wolf growl within.

I was still a wolf.

I was still me.

And yet, I wasn’t.

I didn’t know how to process what was happening to my body as my thoughts went a million miles a minute only to focus once more on Serenity. “I protect what’s mine.”

A knock sounded at the door.

I was more worried that they were knocking than if they’d just appeared out of nowhere.

I gripped Serenity’s hand and walked down the stairs to the front door, then jerked it open too hard, causing it to come off the hinges.

Hell.

Ethan was gonna be pissed.

“Gadreel,” the man said. The name that fell from his lips was the same one that one of the Watchers had said to me during the car accident, as if I had someone or something trapped inside of me, and he’d been waiting for me to set it free.

I shivered and kept Serenity behind me as I stared him down, waiting for something, anything. My hesitation was short-lived when his name was pushed into my brain like someone had shoved a giant object past my eyes that read Armaros.

I gulped and then whispered, “Armaros,” testing the way it sounded in the air.

His lips parted, and then he hung his head as if he’d been waiting a million years to hear his name released into the universe.

He raised his eyes and tilted his head in a predatory way as the men behind him watched, waiting, it seemed, for him to move, to do something. “Do you… reme

mber?”

I didn’t want to remember.

I didn’t want to know.

My wolf cried out.

No. It would hurt too much.

My body had already suffered greatly; my mind was just barely hanging on by a thread. I’d lived thousands of years alone. I’d lost. I wasn’t sure I could handle someone else’s memories, the memories of what it would feel like to be one with creation — then the feel of it being ripped from my very hands.

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