The Griffin, the Tiger, and Their House Cat Omega (Omegas of Animals: SD #12)

Chapter One

Allen

When I finished with the last email on my list and fulfilled their requests, I leaned back in my chair rubbing at my temples. I stretched out my arms and legs, sighing out loud. It had been a long day. I’d been at my desk six hours straight with no break.

I got up and headed to the kitchen to make my favorite end-of-the-day drink: orange juice on the rocks.

Just then, I heard the crunching of footsteps in the snow just outside the window. A man wearing a black parka and sweatpants, shoulders hunched for warmth, approached my door.

Dad coming to check on me.

I went to the door and opened it before he could even raise his arm and knock. “Hey, Dad. Your timing is perfect. I just finished work for the day.” I did most of it from home managing the accounts of other griffin shifters. A glorified freelance accountant, that’s what I was. I had my license. I could go anywhere. But I was encouraged to remain among my pack members very untrusting of outsiders. Especially with things pertaining to money, investments, and taxes.

“Allen. It was so quiet all day back here. I knew you were working, but I didn’t even see you come out for a break.”

“It’s cold out there.”

Dad laughed, brushing a little ice off his shoulders and stomping his boots before walking into my cabin. He was a handsome guy. Long legs and dark hair. I liked to think I was just like him in attitude and tone. Plus—I hoped—maybe handsome as well.

“And,” I added. “I like to work in complete silence.”

Dad huffed. “Just seems a little lonely to me. You need to get out more. You’re almost twenty-eight years old. And handsomest of all my sons. You shouldn’t be alone.”

“I’m your only son. And I’m not alone, Dad. I’ve got you.”

Dad undid his jacket and hung it up on the hook by the door. He was the one who got me addicted to orange juice on the rocks, so I made him one as well, and we settled on my couch.

“It’s just too quiet out here for a young boy like you,” Dad said. “I keep saying you should move back into the main house.

“I like it out here,” I said.

On the end table, my phone chimed. I picked it up and saw a text from Christopher.

Im free tonight. I’ve got a couple of steaks. EZ to just heat up the barbie and plop them on even though it looks like it’s going to snow a lot later.

Quickly, I texted back, Sorry, can’t. Having dinner with Dad tonight. Everything is already made.

I didn’t add Maybe next time , or How about later? Or other things one might say to a part-time lover. Plus, I outright lied about dinner. I really wanted to cut things off completely but didn’t have the courage to say it to his face. Or in text.

Christopher was nice. And a griffin shifter. A safe bet. But I didn’t love him. He wanted more, and it wasn’t fair to him or to me to make him think this might lead to a family someday. Plus, I was restless for something different, something new.

Christopher texted back immediately, Say hi to your dad for me.

I knew him well. We’d gone to high school together. That overly polite, succinct reply meant that he was quite disappointed, if not downright pissed. I’d been putting him off for weeks.

I set my phone aside without replying.

I looked up at Dad who was watching me through slitted eyes.

“That was Christopher,” I said. “He says to tell you hi.”

“Are you going out tonight?”

“Nope. I told him I was having dinner with you.”

“Wait, do we have plans?”

“Not yet. But if you want to go down to the Gold Mine, I’ll buy. I’m craving one of their juicy mushroom burgers with a side of loaded mashed potatoes.”

Dad smiled. “Sounds great, but why are you avoiding him? Christopher’s a good lad. He’s a healthy omega and he’d make a great father to your children.”

“Dad, he’s not the one.”

Softly, “Son, you’re unlikely to ever meet the one. You know that.”

Of course, I knew. When a griffin shifter turned thirteen, he or she was mandated to attend a weekend retreat. They had them every summer at the end of June. Except it wasn’t really a retreat, it was a series of lectures on griffin shifter history, ancestry, even mythology. There, the secrets of our culture were revealed, and we were forced to take oaths to protect them. Or die.

Griffins were a legend. We were known as fictional creatures made of the entwined DNAs of two different beasts: the eagle and the lion. What we were was impossible in the eyes of men and other shifters. We defied science and logic. While two shifters of different breeds could mate and produce children able to shift into two different animals, never in the history of shifter-hood had any animal combined to make a new creature. In the far distant past, we’d been hunted as evil abominations. We went into hiding. Our habits and culture had roots that went back that far. Some ancient world rules still applied.

The most devout law of all was that no one, shifter or human, could ever know griffins truly existed. The secret was so well guarded, defying the law meant pain of death. We thirteen-year-olds were scared to death. Scared to go out into the world. Scared to take a human or shifter mate who was different from us. What if they found out?

The only loophole in the law where we could reveal ourselves to a non-griffin was if that person was our true fated mate.

Sure, griffin shifters mated outside the pack. But they had to keep the secret even from their mate and their own offspring unless those offspring were griffin shifters themselves.

Rarely did people go outside the pack to have families. They didn’t want to risk it. And because our numbers were dwindling, that meant no griffin shifter in recent history had even found their fated mate. We’d given up. I’d given up even before I bothered to look.

My own mother had disappeared from my and my father’s lives by the time I was three. It was common in griffin culture for separations and divorce. If griffin shifters did go out into the world, they masqueraded as human, denying their beast selves for the rest of their lives.

We were dying out as a species. All because of a secret that was our most frightening law.

“Well,” Dad said, “if Christopher’s not right for you, is there anyone else?”

I shook my head no.

“At least, you deserve to get out in the world a little more than you do. Aren’t you ready for a vacation?”

“Yeah. I’ve been thinking about it.”

“You’ve got time off coming to you. Pearl can take care of your accounts while you’re gone.”

“I’ll look into it.”

With a heavy sigh, Dad said, “I sure wish you’d move back to the main house. It’s lonely up there.”

“What about Benjamin?”

“Benjamin’s great.” Dad’s eyes twinkled.

He was one of the handymen Dad hired for various jobs around the place. Also, he and Dad had a thing on the side. I didn’t feel too sorry for him. He wasn’t truly alone. I hadn’t moved out to the back cabin on the property just for my own privacy. Dad needed privacy, too.

“Then no complaints, okay?” I chided.

“It’s not the same as having real family close by.”

I gestured toward the front window. “I am close by. There are only a few pine trees between me and the big house.”

Dad looked around. “It is quite a cozy, sweet little cabin.”

“I love it.”

“All right then, Allen.” Dad gave me a friendly slap on the shoulder. “Let’s go get juicy burgers. That sounds really good. The cook made pasta or something, but it can wait until tomorrow.”

After dinner, I lay on my couch staring at the fire while the TV chattered overhead. It was lovely here. Peaceful. I didn’t mind being alone, either. I was a privileged ass who had everything, basically.

And yet, I was so restless and bored I was going out of my mind.

It was time for something new.