3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Lumen

I wake before the sun is up and find Slate sitting at the kitchen table, staring at the wall.

"You've been here all night?" I ask.

"Lexia said she wanted me to stay."

"So you stayed, even though you didn't want to?"

He frowns. "Who said I didn't want to?"

"It's written all over your face, grey."

I go to the cabinets to look for something to cook, and after a moment of pulling out ingredients, I pause and turn to look at Slate. "Did you say something?"

He turns his head toward me, raising a brow. "No, I said nothing."

"That's what I thought…" I lean against the counter, facing him. "Why?"

"Why what?" he asks.

"Why didn't you say anything? Since we've met you, you've had a comment about everything. Why not now?"

He pinches the bridge of his nose before running his hand down his face.

"Honestly? I'm not sure."

I narrow my eyes and move to him, getting right in his face. "If you're up to something—"

"I'm not," he snaps, putting his palm on my chest and pushing me away.

"Well, if you are—"

"I'm not," he growls, getting to his feet. "I have no idea what you people want from me. I act myself, I get snarky comments. I try being nice, you complain I'm up to something. I stay here, and you think, what? I'm plotting against you? Will I ever do anything right?"

I cross my arms, watching him carefully. Since he showed up, I haven't trusted him. Vesperon feels the same way. And though we felt that way toward one another when we first met, it is different with Slate. Vesperon and I are enemies because of what we are. It has nothing to do with who we are. But this grey? That is different. They cannot be trusted. They have no purpose in the world. They care about nothing. They have nothing to lose.

"You can't blame us for being wary."

"Actually, I can. I am here, aren't I? If I didn't want to be, don't you think I'd be gone?"

"But why are you here?"

"Because I'm supposed to be!" He throws his arms up, letting them fall to his sides. "I am needed for this prophecy. I am needed here to help you three figure out this mess before the world ends."

"See, but that's the problem, Slate. You're here because you feel obligated to be, not because you want to be. You're not all in. How far are you willing to go for this? Will you put your life on the line? Are you willing to risk your life for our mate? For me? For the shadow? Because I know you do not like him. I know you do not like any of us."

"That isn't true." He shakes his head.

"It is true. Just admit it. Greys are solo creatures. They don't have mates. Well, I guess that's a lie. They rarely have mates, I should say. You don't want to be a part of this."

"It's not that I don't want it," he says firmly, hands balling into fists. I can see I'm breaking through his barriers. It's not that he's quite angry, but he's upset. He seems unsure about something. Confused?

"Then what?"

He paces, a hand running through his dark hair. He looks like he's ready to break down and cry or explode. I can't tell which. I expect him to disappear. To run away, like he did the last time we questioned him. I can already tell it won't be easy to get through to him. He isn't used to working with others. Isn't used to being a team player.

Though Vesperon and I work alone, we still work as a team. We are part of something much bigger than ourselves and have accepted that. It isn't the same for Slate. He doesn't know how to play well with others. How to rely on them, need them, trust them… and that's dangerous for us.

"What is it?" I press when he doesn't respond.

He mutters something to himself, still pacing and tugging on his hair.

"Slate," I demand. "What is—"

"I don't know how to do this!" he shouts, whirling toward me with wide eyes.

Oh. Well, in that case…

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe getting through to him will be easier than I thought.

I close my eyes, taking a deep breath and releasing it. When I open my eyes, he's still staring at me, but I haven't a clue what he's thinking. My head is telling me to yell at him to stop being a difficult, arrogant prick and just be nice. But that won't get us anywhere. Not in our relationship, and definitely not with this prophecy.

Confidently, I walk toward him, putting my hand on his shoulders.

"None of us do, I can assure you of that. But Slate, you need to want this. And you need to want it for the right reasons. You can't be here just because you're supposed to be." I press my hand to his chest. "You have to want to be here because of this. For us—your mates. Yes, for everyone else in this world too, cause the world is ending, blah blah blah. But none of that will matter if you aren't fully in it."

"It's… a lot." His words come out gravelly, and I can tell he's biting back emotion. He's probably never felt like this in all the years he's been alive.

"Yeah, it is," I agree. "But you have us to lean on to help you get through all of it. We are going to figure this out together. You aren't alone. We're all dealing with very similar things. It's not like we've done this before."

"I've never had someone rely on me for anything. I'm going to fuck this up."

The desperation in his eyes makes me feel for the guy, but I won't lie to him just because I feel bad.

I nod. "Yeah, you probably are." He frowns. "But guess what? There's this thing called an apology, and another thing called forgiveness. Ves may seem like a hard-ass, but he's as soft as a marshmallow. Whatever Lexia wants, he'll do."

"And you?" he questions, raising a brow.

"My mates will always come first. Is that something you think you can do?"

He lets his head fall back and rubs his hands over his face. When he looks at me again, he seems a little more put together.

"I think so."

I pat him on the cheek in a friendly manner. "That's all that matters. Now come help me make breakfast, or you're not eating."

He meets me at the counter, and we get to work on preparing breakfast for everyone.

"I need you to promise me something," he says as he drops a dirty bowl into the sink.

"Okay?" I say as I grab a sheet pan to spread the bacon on.

"Don't ever make me eat anything that Vesperon makes."

I bark out a laugh, nearly dropping the pack of bacon. "Why do you think I'm down here now? He wouldn't know good food if it slapped him in the face."

"It's terrible," Slate comments, making a disgusted face. "Did you hear what he did to the popcorn?"

"How do you mess up popcorn?" I ask, tossing the empty bacon packet into the trash.

"By adding peas and corn to it."

"No," I gasp.

"Yes," Slate says seriously.

I huff out a laugh, not surprised by this at all.

"That should be illegal," I comment.

"Maybe we should tell him it is," Slate suggests, and I laugh again.

I guess this grey isn't so bad after all. He just needs to know that he's wanted.