Chapter 46
Chapter Forty-Six
Fenix
“We are to head back to the eyrie urgently.” That is all Galeor says to me before he abruptly cuts off our flight trajectory and beats his wings like the devil himself is upon our backs.
My wing forms up around me. I sense their questions even as I have questions of my own.
No answers are forthcoming.
I think about asking Atlas directly what the fuck this is about. But I’m fucking nervous. What if it’s Rafe taking a turn for the worse? What if it’s something fucking else?
Only none of the griffins’ project worry.
In fact, they are doing something I have never heard them do before: they are humming. A low drone that carries a sense of anticipation.
Excitement.
What the fuck is that about?
Galeor gives me nothing. But he does beat his wings with vigor.
Ahead, the eyrie upper entry comes into view. Griffins fill the sky, circling as they come into land.
So many.
All of them… I believe it is all of them.
High, riding the thermals, a wing of our closest allies, the Shadowborn Pride.
Something is about to happen.
Something extraordinary.
Darrion
I land a few wingbeats behind Fenix and transition to human in one of my best long-jacketed, silk suits. I adjust the collar irritably. My clothes feel strange upon my body. Maybe I’ve spent too much time in the air.
He gives me an undecipherable look.
“What’s all this fuss about? Darkan was being particularly cagey.”
Darkan, in true style, turns his back on me and begins preening his already impeccable feathers in my mind.
“How the fuck would I know?” Fenix says, scowling at me. The influx of griffins forces us to move away from the edge. “You do something to piss Atlas off I don’t know about?”
“No,” I say, sounding defensive and annoyed when I have no reason to sound defensive. “I believe we should both shoulder the blame for what happened in the cell.”
“You are to report to the Sundial Chamber,” Darkan announces imperiously. “Prepare yourself.”
My heart skips a beat. A certain image featuring said room my mind.
“Is this what I think it is?” Fenix asks, suddenly all fucking perky.
“I dare say, we shall see.”
My boots ring against the corridor flagstones.
I have been in the Sundial Chamber on occasion—usually for ceremonies, though it is open to anyone who wishes to enter.
It is beautiful but mostly empty, save for the great sundial that dominates the north side.
Regular citizens of the eyrie sometimes visit for the views.
As a griffin shifter, views are hardly rare in my life, and the eyrie itself is full of beautiful places—my new quarters within Atlas’s suite are palatial and comfortably appointed.
And yet the Sundial Chamber is special. I understood that even before the picture. Perhaps today more than ever.
Yet the burgeoning anticipation inside me is accompanied by trepidation.
Rafe.
What if he is dying?
My hands curl into fists.
He cannot fucking die. There was a time when I put him down as an annoying male, but he has come into his own. He is good to Violet and for her—that tells me all I need to know.
I am still festering inside when the entrance to the Sundial Chamber comes into view. We do not reach it for a servant cuts us off, and in a no-nonsense manner orders us to an adjoining bathing chamber where we are to cleanse.
I take this in my stride. Atlas remains quiet, and so does his griffin, Aldric.
“Resonant bonding,” Fenix says under his breath, and with no small measure of dark glee.
My heart thunders in my chest. Rafe? The potential power boost? Maybe both. “Do you think that will work?”
“If it doesn’t, the human will die,” Darkan offers helpfully.
Great. No godsdamned pressure then!
Strip and bathe efficiently. It’s fair to say my mind is at sea.
Only when I emerge and dry do I notice that my clothes have disappeared, replaced by a black silk robe.
A little flashy for my style, but I approve of the material quality as I slide the simple robe on.
It falls all the way to my feet. My hair is damp but drying quickly, and I rake my fingers through it, letting it fall as it will.
I am unexpectedly nervous, and I do not consider myself a nervous man.
Shoulders back, I push out of the chamber and nearly collide with Fenix, who is similarly adorned.
“What the fuck is this about?” he says, gesturing between us.
I presume him to be talking about the clothing, although it could be the forced cleansing. Given I have no answer to either, I don’t bother to reply. Then we exit the bathing suite where the vast assembly of people brings us to an undignified halt.
Darkan begins humming in my mind.
Ahead, lining the corridor all the way to the great double-doored entry to the Sundial Chamber are people: servants, wing members, and finally wing leaders, decked out in their finest dress uniforms.
I shouldn’t mind a dress uniform over this silken garb…
The door opens behind us, and a freshly cleaned-up, black-robed Lark steps out. He tugs at the lapels of his robe and gives the two of us a quizzical look. Then he nods at the people in the corridor before he claims the place to my left. “It’s about to go down, then?”
My lips curl into a strained smirk. “It would seem that it is.”
We walk together down the corridor with Lark to my left and Fenix to my right.
The servants bow.
The griffin wing members bow.
And then finally we come to the wing leaders, who likewise bow.
Vander and another wing leader step forward to open the big double doors. We enter. My breath catches. There, before a low platform, stands Violet, a vision in white silk. At her side, holding her hand is Atlas, dressed like us in black.
I barely notice my Pride Leader. My eyes are all for the woman I love. Her hair is a riot of red-gold curls that cascade over her left shoulder. Her pretty eyes are bright, though there is a knot of worry between her brows.
My countenance softens, for all she feels, I feel it too. And there beside the dais, covered in a simple silk cloth, lies Rafe. Utterly still.
He has changed yet again. Even in repose, I can tell he’s a big bastard now.
But it’s time for him to come back to us…
I become aware that the three of us have stopped, that the wing leaders are fanning out around the room.
Above us, the vast glass dome bathes the room in light.
On the opposite side, the sundial casts a single long shadow all the way to a central silk-covered raised platform beyond Violet and Atlas.
From behind comes a soft thud as the main doors shut.
Then silence.
I step forward, Lark and Fenix flank me until I stand before my Griffin King and Queen. It is the most natural thing in the world to drop to one knee and bow my head.
Fenix follows.
Then Lark.
Atlas releases her hand and joins us where he too bows. “Do you accept me, Atlas Aldric, Griffin Pride Leader, as your king and mate?”
“I do.” Her voice is soft yet carries.
I swallow past the sudden tightness in my throat. “Do you accept me, Darrion Darkan, Pride Second, as your mate and consort?”
“I do.”
“Do you accept me, Fenix Galeor, Pride Third as your mate and consort?”
“I do.”
“Do you accept me, Lark Bo Varden, Guardian and direwolf shifter, as your mate and consort?”
“I do.”
We rise as one. My heart is thudding in my chest. I swear I can almost taste her essence in the air.
And then a great whirring noise begins, followed by a mechanical clack-clack-clack. We look up where the domed ceiling splits in two, folding slowly open—I did not realize it opened. It should be cold, but the glass walls beneath create shelter from the wind.
A hum begins, carried on the light breeze, growing louder.
Griffins.
Not our griffins, who are locked inside us, but the sleeping griffins, roused. They circle overhead and then, one by one, settle on perches on the open roof edge, and which clearly were built there with intention.
This was assuredly not in the book…
One. Two. Three… more and more, they cluster, filling the circle, creating a low resonant hum.
My wings flare into being. The robe I had worn shreds instantly, disappearing into the ether. A strange, alien sensation manifests at the base of my spine.
“What the hell?” Fenix mutters beside me.
I lift one wing and peer behind, grinning when I spot my lashing tail.
“I had heard this could happen with the bonding,” Atlas says mildly.
He looks at something over my shoulder and does a double take.
Belatedly Aware of a presence looming to my left, I turn slowly, steeling myself, and look up at the vast shaggy beast that is neither wolf nor man but something in between.
I arch one brow. “Well played, mutt.”