Soul Kissed by Erin Kellison

thinking about it, Erom and the other guys might’ve easily messed with him. Mason already moved stiffly. But there were few choices open to him, and fighting back wasn’t one of them. They’d kill him.
    She dared to touch his arm. The touch brought his gaze snapping to hers, as if she were dangerous.
    She felt danger in the air, too. It was screaming in her mind. Mason!
    “Shouldn’t be this way,” she said.
    “Shouldn’t be what way?” His voice lowered. He flicked a worried glance at the boys in the water. They’d had enough of him with Liv.
    “You should be claimed,” Cari said. Not shut out of his mother’s House. It was cruel, his life. How he was treated. Someone as strong as he was should belong to a great family.
    Her heart went wild at the idea.
    “You gonna claim me, Dolan?” he joked bitterly.
    Her face heated, her voice got all tangled up, and she lost track of her words.
    “Cari, I’m sorry.” He always noticed everything.
    She shook her head and looked down toward the water. Then she changed her mind and forced herself to turn toward him.
    He had somehow gotten closer, though she couldn’t remember him moving. Whispers of the fae rose around them. Time stopped. Sparks of magic hung in the air. And he looked at her, so seriously it made her sad. But she couldn’t help it. She was about to get him in very big trouble.
    She moved closer still, until she felt his breath brush her skin. She could almost sense the future moment when that breath would be inside her, his mouth on hers.
    A question glinted in his eyes.
    She looked down at his mouth and went tingly when she saw the slight, wondering smile that appeared there. She smiled back. It was an answer. Yes. Permission. What she’d really wanted for her big birthday.
    But the kiss never happened.
    “Cari!” Liv had shouted.
    And the moment between her and Mason had exploded.
    Never happened.
    A moment. That’s all it had been. And then, soon after, all magekind had found out just how dangerous a stray could be.
     
     
    A two-and-a-half-hour drive, and Mason arrived at the deserted campground that was his rendezvous location between the Taconic Mountains of Webb House and the suburban Boston estate of Dolan. Drought had made kindling out of the underbrush, and so the park had been closed rather than risk a forest fire. That’s what all the notices said on the narrow drive to the park’s interior, though the thickets of birch and maple trees looked lush enough to him. A cluster of cabins ringed a central lodge.
    He’d just signed away his son.
    Fletcher was eight, almost nine. And he would not reach his majority in magekind until he was seventeen. The time until then was almost exactly double Fletcher’s life. The early years had gone by so fast, but Mason knew that from now until then each moment would creep by, snickering at his agony.
    Fletcher was safe; that’s all that mattered. Mason held on to that fact with everything he had left.
    Three angels, in all their eerie perfection, exited the main lodge as his car slowed to a stop. Jack Bastian was not among them, and Mason was glad for that reprieve. He didn’t want to hear one more platitude about how the Order was looking out for Fletcher, too. Light was just as opportunistic as Shadow.
    Mason got out of his car and slammed the door shut.
    A white-haired angel came forward. Though his body had the ease of youth, the man had the weight of ages in his eyes. If Mason had any feeling left, he might have been frightened. Not today.
    “I’m Laurence.” The angel didn’t try to shake his hand, which Mason knew would’ve broken him. He was not in the mood to shake hands. “These are my companions Jorge and Frederick.”
    Mason barely glanced at them. He grimaced what he could of an acknowledgment.
    “This way.” Laurence gestured toward the lodge door.
    Mason followed them inside. The place smelled of fresh wood; logs and beams made it rustic. Benches and cafeteria-style tables