25

I snuggled up to Grayson and kept glancing between the seats at the stranger sitting behind us on the plane. Grayson had introduced him as Cyril Connaissances. A lycan sent by Caspian.

He was busy with his cell phone the whole time, as if he had reception here. He didn't seem to look at either of us once. On the contrary, he sat there as if we weren't there.

The silence on the plane, on the other hand, spoke volumes. Nobody had said a word since they joined us. Grayson had asked me to sleep several times, which I couldn't do afterwards.

I looked at the lycan once again and couldn't let it rest. I had so many questions. We were in a metal can four thousand meters above sea level, where would he go if I went to him.

He looked at me before I was even up. He tilted his head back so his black curls fell out of his face. He had gray eyes that were alert, knowing, but missing something.

"Where are you going?" Grayson gently grabbed my hand and ran his fingers through it.

"Ask a few questions," I replied, looking in Cyril's direction. He had put his phone down, his hands in his lap, and seemed to be waiting for me.

His gray eyes were as calm as the mist that lay in the woods on an autumn morning. Like a veil they hid what was going on inside him.

"Cyril, right?" I asked, sitting next to him. He turned to me, but there couldn't have been more distance between us.

"What do you want to ask me, Tara?" he asked me without any emotion on his face or in his voice. I had never heard anyone speak without a shred of emotion.

"Why are you coming with us?" He could have stayed in the background, waiting somewhere and watching, but here he was. He was on the plane with us and I didn't want him here.

"That's my job," he said coolly.

"An order, so so," I mumbled hastily to myself. "What does such an order involve?" I looked at Grayson and started to worry. A lycan sat next to me, on behalf of the king, my Erasthais, whom I didn't want and the man who stole his way into my heart just a few meters away from me.

"To kill if it protects the king," he answered me dryly. He said it so matter-of-factly, as if I had asked about the color of the sky.

"Certainly not," I gasped.

"Every single one who hurts you." He pulled his phone out of his pocket and ignored me. He scrolled across his display as if the call was over and I wasn't sitting next to him anymore.

"Certainly not," I hissed at him and slapped it out of his hand. He slowly raised his face and looked at me blankly.

"What do you want?" he asked me coolly. I couldn't think as fast as the words were racing in my head.

"May I ask something?" I asked him and to my surprise he nodded. He leaned far into his seat, which buckled under his weight, and crossed his arms over his chest.

He was an impressively handsome man with his dark brown hair, thick black lashes over his gray eyes. But this beauty was shrouded in cold, as if trying to hide something.

I looked at Grayson, who was sitting in his seat and hadn't moved an inch. I realized more than anything that crazy as it was, he was the one I was worrying about the most right now.

Cyril followed my gaze and looked at the seat Grayson was sitting in. I remembered that lycans could feel what was going on inside you and just didn't know how to hide the chaos inside me. My heart was beating so loud my head was pounding.

"I see," he said without my saying anything. "On the other hand, answer me a question and I will comply with your request." I hadn't asked about anything yet, but he seemed to know everything.

For a second I even thought there was a smile hiding under his cold, rigid features. The longer I looked into his face and the gray in his eyes, the more uncomfortable I became. Caspian and Grayson both said they were capable of manipulating emotions and affecting what we perceived. That's it.

"Sure," I answered quickly.

"Why don't you trust Luna?" He looked at me intently, his gray eyes studying me with curiosity for the first time. It was almost as if he was looking to me for an answer. A confirmation of his own answer, which he had found for himself behind the gray creep of his eyes.

"It's like an arranged marriage," I choked out. I was a little sorry I said that. There were so many mates who were happy together. Wolves just waiting to find their perfect match. On the other hand, I wanted to decide for myself who that was for me.

I looked at Grayson, who still didn't move in his seat. This stubborn man who has always been by my side for the past few months. Even though he hadn't said it until yesterday, he cared for me from the start.

"Interesting," I heard Cyril say and my head snapped back at him. I did it so fast I had to rub the back of my neck to check I wasn't twisted.

"You should go back now," he demanded, pointing at Grayson and bending down to pick up his cell phone that was lying on the floor. I got up and stood speechless in front of him for a while. There was so much I wanted to ask him about Caspian, but instead of knowing anything, he no doubt now knew all about my feelings for Grayson.

"You know more than I'm telling you, don't you?" I asked him. He lifted his head and dropped his phone on his lap. The gray veil in his eyes lifted and glistening, green eyes came to light. It was like the sun making grass glow in the dark.

"I know everything I need to know." He grabbed my hand and kissed it like a subject would probably do with King Caspian and briefly held his forehead against it before letting it fall.

"You should go," he nodded to Grayson and when he looked back at me his eyes were gray and expressionless again.

Somehow I suddenly couldn't control myself and stroked his brown hair while I sank down in front of him. My hand slid down his arm and only stopped when I gripped his hand tightly.

"Thank you," I whispered, squeezing his hand.

"For what?" he breathed without looking at me. His thick, brown curls hid his face and I couldn't see his eyes. I just wish they were grass green.

"For not judging me, for accepting that I --" I glanced at Grayson, still not daring to say it. Even if he did, he should be the first to hear it.

"Happiness is not bound by time, not for us Tara. Be happy." Cyril withdrew his hand and turned away from me. I stood next to him for a while, but he didn't move anymore.

I climbed back into the seat next to Grayson. "I know you're pretending to be asleep," I said, crawling under his arm, which he immediately pulled tight around me. Not tight enough, I found, and slid even closer to him.

Grayson didn't say a word, but his fingers, tracing circles down my back the whole time, told me he was with me, every second. I slid onto his lap and buried my head in his neck. I enjoyed how he wrapped his arms around me and pressed me tightly against his body.

I glanced at Cyril a few more times during the flight, but he never once looked my way. Whenever I stared at Grayson, he pretended to be asleep, or maybe actually was.

I didn't want to be anywhere but in Grayson's arms. Every now and then I blew one of his curls off my face, but he didn't even shrug the shoulder on which my head was resting.