Gray's Shadow (Kings of Hell MC 4)

Shadow swallowed, glad that his new body was starting to function beyond his conscious control. He no longer had to remember to breathe. That had been unpleasant.

He got up, wincing when the soles of his feet once again touched the grass.

“What did he mean then? Was Descartes also someone’s shadow?”

Gray’s gaze was colder than the grass, and it struck Shadow with such contempt he felt compelled to make his large body as small as possible by hunching his shoulders and slouching.

Gray and Knight needed the artificial light to see well in the dark, but Shadow had no such issues, and he could see his human watching him. Gray’s eyes were the color of the undergrowth beneath their feet—intensely green with flecks of yellow and brown—and set in a smooth face that Shadow found hypnotizing. Its angles were sharp as if cut with diamonds, with a narrow nose and plump lips that kept lingering on Shadow’s mind. He couldn’t look away, even when he knew Gray was watching him back

In the end, Gray sighed and lowered the artificial light, moving with so much more agility than Shadow. “There are no other living shadows. And I’m not even sure what you are anymore. Because you’re not just my shadow, and not that poor dead footman either.”

Shadow’s heart throbbed with pain, but no matter how hurtful Gray was, he couldn’t stay away from this perfect human with hair like strands of silvery moonlight. “Because of the extra arms?” Having all that extra bone distributed throughout his body had not been a pleasant experience, but he was fine now, even if oversized when compared to Gray—the perfect human specimen with a compact, proportional build. If he could have chosen his own body, he would have chosen one just like Gray’s.

“That was just creepy,” Knight said, startling Shadow when his voice came from outside the bubble Shadow’s imagination had built around him and Gray. He’d been so enraptured by the way Gray adjusted his ponytail that he’d forgotten they weren’t in fact alone. It was as if the whole world were a cold wasteland, with Gray existing as the only beacon of heat. When Gray was around, focusing on anybody else was futile, because his human body was frantic to smell, hear, and taste Gray.

“All of him is creepy. You know that he’s my responsibility but you keep enabling him. Is this a joke to you?” Gray snapped at Knight and turned so fast the empty sleeve of the jacket he was wearing floated with the movement and hit his back.

Knight opened his mouth but didn’t say anything and reached into his pocket when something beeped. The phone shone into Knight’s face, illuminating a wide grin. “Oh, Gray. You can do whatever you want with your monster. I have a booty call. Let’s go back.”

Gray’s lips thinned, but he followed Knight to the car, snapping his fingers at Shadow, who instantly moved along, even though he was confused yet again. His mind kept balancing between confidence that he understood the world around him and a profound sense of disorientation. The meanings behind most words were obvious even when Shadow knew he was technically hearing them for the first time, but others like ‘party trick’ or ‘booty call’ made his brain stall as if they were physical obstacles. Some things he understood from the context, but he wanted to be heard too! He had thoughts he wanted to voice, feelings he wanted to express.

Gray had such a symmetrical face, with a prominent chin and high cheekbones. If Shadow were to imagine a perfect set of features for himself, he’d have picked Gray’s—no questions asked. Yet why were those eyes so mean? What had he done wrong?

He reached out to grab Gray’s hand but it was slapped away. Again.

“Stop touching me? It’s weird.”

“Why is it weird?” He whispered because Gray had.

Gray frowned. “You can’t just touch people. Don’t touch anyone.”

Shadow had seen people touch so he was positive it was him Gray wanted to keep physically isolated. But the warning was unnecessary because Gray was the only person Shadow wanted to touch anyway. So warm and enticing despite his cruel attitude. And what was that scent he carried? Shadow had no idea, but it was fresh and sweet at the same time, and he wished he could keep his face where it originated.

Every time he envisioned Gray in his mind, looked at him, smelled him, or stole some touch, a shiver went down his body, warming him up and making him happy. He was still grasping at ways to describe his feelings to Gray, but they were like nothing he’d ever experienced on the Other Side. They were about connection, yet that thought was only his. Unless he spoke about it, no one else would know that such exhilaration was rushing through him.