Chapter 37 #2
Darkan banks sharply. I get a terrifying view of what lurks below. People. Tents. Dozens upon dozens of tents nestled in the forest around the edge of a lake.
The griffin to our right issues a dread-inspiring battle cry, one reminiscent of the night we were snatched.
“Hold tight,” Darkan informs me.
He dives and cuts sharply to the left, wings folding. A great bolt whistles past us. His wing has formed up beneath us, offering protection. Below, the soldiers swarm to reload and position rows of ballistae that line the lake shore.
Another giant bolt shoots through the sky.
Their wings are beating hard, now. Deep, powerful strokes that take us away, climbing fast.
As I peer down upon the swarming camp to see a woman step out to the front, taking her place between two giant ballistae.
She wears a white fur cloak, her long, dark hair whipped by the wind.
At her side stands a powerful male. Beyond them, the standard of our house, and another of the High King himself.
“My sister,” I say, cold settling in the pit of my stomach when I think of that village where we dipped our wings, not so far away.
“Far closer than we suspected,” Darrion says.
Tears sting the back of my eyes. We are still climbing hard and fast, ahead, the upper eyrie landing is coming into view. My ride is over. Ruined.
Not only my ride.
“She is here. She has come to ruin everything.”
“And with many men. We were patrolling too deep,” Darrion says bitterly. “They are already on our doorstep… I’ve sent word to Atlas. He is on his way back.”
Darkan opens his beak and issues a defiant screech.
I have a bad feeling we’re going to be in trouble. And yet I cannot deny that by accident we have uncovered a grave threat.
When we arrive at the eyrie, we find a scene of chaos. Griffins are landing everywhere, great streams of them pouring in from all directions.
We land. I don’t even get a chance to unclip the harness for strong human hands, familiar to me, given how often and frequently he has put them upon me, taunted me with them, and fed me from a fork.
They belong to Atlas.
Here on the cliff edge, dripping with barely contained rage, he unbuckles me, and he snatches me down, where he turns me this way and that for any sign of damage.
Done with his preliminary assessment, he plucks my goggles, cowl, and finally wrestles the jacket and gloves off and tosses them to the floor.
By this time, Darkan has disappeared, and Darrion is standing there, face grave.
“She suffered no injury. She suffered no harm,” he says calmly.
I feel the explosion go off inside Atlas.
I don’t even notice Rafe until he snatches me out of the way. A loud, meaty thud follows as Atlas’s fist connects with Darrion’s jaw, snapping his head around from the blow.
Lark, who’s still in wolf form, issues a low warning growl.
“Stay the fuck out of this,” Atlas swings to face Lark. “You’re supposed to be a fucking guardian. And you let them go?”
Lark lowers his snout and side-eyes me. I want to go to him, but I’m trembling up a storm, and Rafe has a tight hold.
Another half dozen griffins arrive, shifting as they land. Fenix strides to the front. “What the fuck happened?” he demands. His eyes slide from me, where I cling to Rafe, back to Atlas, and then on to Darrion.
Atlas stabs a finger in Darrion’s chest. “He took her out for a flight.”
Fenix winces. “Fuck.”
“I asked him to,” I blurt out.
“Well,” Fenix says, amusement and maybe a little pride in his eyes. “She is naturally curious. It was always going to happen.”
“Their army is camped around Green Lake,” Atlas says, wiping the amusement right off Fenix’s face and landing the gravity of what happened with blunt force. “They are no more than a week away from the base of the mountain.”
“And close to the communities there,” Darrion adds somberly. “They fired upon us. Two bolt shots. They did not get close. But that they fired at all grieves me.”
“You put her in fucking danger,” Atlas says.
“It was my idea,” I say more boldly now.
Atlas turns and prowls right up to me until I’m pinned against Rafe with nowhere to go. Rafe settles a hand comfortingly at the back of my neck. It steadies me.
“I have just found you,” Atlas says, voice breaking. “You are the other half of my soul.”
There is a brightness glistening in his eyes, and my lips quiver as I take this in. It is not only about rage. But about worry, and dare I consider, about love.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, then I lift my voice, for as foolish as the ride might have been with hindsight, it revealed much.
“But I am also not sorry, for if I had not gone on that ride, if I had not demanded Darrion take me—begged him—which is all but emotional blackmail when I just told him that I claimed him as a mate, then we would not have found my sister and her army so close. And not only her army. Her standard flies. The High King’s as well.
If the High King is there, you can bet other kingdoms under his dominion will likewise be present…
And, as Darrion pointed out, we have just flown over a community not far away from where they camp. ”
The terror mounts up inside me for us and for that peaceful village, and a sob bursts out.
Atlas cups my cheek and presses a kiss to my forehead. And I’m right there between the two men I love, while three more stand by and watch.
“Our plans need to change. That is all,” Atlas says, voice calm now. “This is not the beginning of our defeat.”
And then he steps back, and a cold mask takes over his face.
“What of the other prides? Will they join us?” Darrion asks.
“Yes, some,” Atlas confirms, “but not all.”
“Let me go to the others,” Darrion says. “Let me negotiate for you.”
“You’ve done enough.” He motions to Vander and another griffin guard. “Take him to the cells. He will spend the rest of the day and the night there as penance.”
Darrion nods stiffly. Accepting.
“What?” The word is torn from me, high and anxious.
“He put your life in danger,” Atlas says. “He should have asked me first. He broke the chain of command. Something he has only ever done once before. And if he has any sense, he will never do it again.”
“We all need to just calm down.” Fenix steps in, spreading his arms as he stands between the two men. “This is an unprecedented situation, and he has not fucking fed. That’s bound to make him a bit volatile.”
Darrion raises a brow.
Atlas growls. “It is you who is the volatile one. Darrion may hide behind no such excuse. And he won’t be feeding anytime soon if he doesn’t toe the line.”
He turns to Vander.
“Put both of them in the cell.”