Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Rafe
The moment she returns to the camp, I know something is wrong.
She is dripping wet, for a start, like she has doused herself in the river. At first, I think her heat has started, but something is off.
Lark stills. While I’m attuned to Violet’s shifting mood before her heat, when it gets really close and her scent changes, Lark always clocks that first. He shakes his head slightly and frowns—not that then.
She sits down beside the fire, looking anywhere but at us. Then her eyes latch onto my hand where I was sharpening my sword, and she swallows.
“Something you want to tell us, princess?”
“No.” Her voice is a little high and shaky. “I don’t believe there is.”
“She has remembered,” Lark says bluntly, tossing the rabbit he was about to skin to the floor.
Her eyes flash to his, wounded, yet full of fucking heat. My dick goes from semi to full mast in an instant.
I set my sword aside and rise slowly. I don’t want to spook her, but there is no avoiding this. Her chest heaves as I draw closer; my own breath is unsteady. I crouch before her and tip her chin. “Look at me.”
She shakes her head; her cheeks are flushed a deep red in the waning light.
“Violet. Tell me. Right now. Plain words.”
“I-I remember.” Her haunted eyes lift to meet mine. “I’m s-so sorry. So a-ashamed. I c-can’t believe I made you… ordered you to—”
A terrifying screech pierces the evening air.
Then another, louder, sharper, closer. It’s not a natural sound. It is ungodly in nature.
Lark draws his sword. I spin around, snatching up my sword, eyes scanning the treetops.
“Goddess help us,” Violet murmurs weakly. “Is that a—”
“Griffin!” Lark snarls.
A screech rends the air. I cannot see them, yet the hairs rising on the back of my neck know what makes the sound: a griffin, a creature of myth and legend, and a nightmare for us.
I taste bitter inevitability at the back of my throat. We’re fucked. I can’t reconcile just how badly. A thousand and one crossroads, every step, every decision bringing us here. We’re barely a day out of Acton Trussell, and they’ve found us.
The tremble in my hand steadies as I tighten my grip on the hilt of my sword. I share a look with Lark. The sharp cries, full of violent promise, circle above, drawing closer.
I’m just a man. A soldier. What chance do I have?
A crash, and the treetops rock above. Branches snap, and leaves rain down. But they cannot break through easily. The thick forest cover gives us a chance. “Run!” I roar.
Lark takes the lead, grabbing Violet’s hand. I come up the rear. Another piercing cry tells me they are onto us. “Keep running!”
We race on, the narrow animal track weaving left and right. My mind desperately stumbles over possibilities where we outrun them, find a place to hide, and work our way back down the mountain.
Could we reach the village?
Would the villagers help us if we did?
No, they would not. Likely, they would hand us over. And if we tried to slip past the village, they might mount their own search for us, eager to aid their protectors.
Protectors? As if. I sense nothing protective from the monsters’ screaming above.
For all the bastards in the village claimed griffins were noble of purpose, deep-rooted, bone-deep instincts tell me this will not end well.
We have wandered into a territory ruled by the highest order of predator and brought an omega to them like a fucking gift.
They won’t let two beta men stand in their way.
“Fuck!” Lark cries, coming to a skidding stop.
Ahead is a sheer rock face. We have just run ourselves into a dead end.
Another screech, right overhead, followed by the great rending sound of splitting wood.
A small hand slips into mine. “Rafe, I’m s-scared.”
I yank Violet aside just in time as a hunk of tree crashes down, blocking the route to the small path we entered.
Violet screams.
A massive, russet griffin head shoves through the gap in the canopy. The branches rock beneath his weight. It clacks its beak, strange golden eyes whirling before it issues a deafening scream.
“Get behind us!”
Lark and I are seamless, placing her behind us in the shadow of the rock face.
Another sharp cry to our left heralds a second griffin forcing his way through the branches, this one gray. The trees shudder. More leaves and torn branches pelt down. And then, with a thud and an ear-splitting cry, the russet one drops into the clearing before us.
“Gods,” Lark mutters.
It is huge. Bigger than a bear shifter. Dreadful to behold, yet hauntingly beautiful.
Another crash, and the gray one lands with a thump that rocks the ground. The third one is right behind him, dropping in an ungainly heap before he rolls and rights himself, shaking out feathers and lashing his tail from side to side.
Griffins. Umber brown. Dark charcoal gray. Deep russet red. They form a semicircle, hemming us in.
The gray, and largest of the trio, locks his whirling eyes on me. He opens his beak and issues a mighty screech. His talon lashes out. I raise my sword, but he bats it from my hand like it’s a twig, sending it flying.
The other two lunge. Lark’s cry is high and wounded, but I don’t dare take my eyes off the big gray bastard whose giant talon is coming for Violet. Menacing. The size of my chest.
I have nothing to defend myself or the woman I love. Not a fucking hope. But I’m the one thing between them and her, so I issue a roar and lunge to block his path.
The outstretched talon curls into a giant fist and knocks me off my feet, sending me crashing to the ground.
The red one is on me. His talons pin my arms to the earth before he opens his beak and roars in my face.
Violet screams.
Heedless of the pain, I fight for freedom. The sharp claws lacerate my arms as I struggle, but the pain means nothing when I need to reach her. I have to protect her.
Another mighty screech. A balled claw comes for my face.
My head rocks from the blow. Sparkling lights blur my vision before I fall limp and senseless.
I’m plucked from the ground. Massive wings beat the air, snapping branches as we rise.
I’m nothing but a battered mass of pain and misery hanging in a talon, clinging to consciousness by sheer will.
That they bested me with such ease leaves an aftertaste of bitter shame.
I blink, watching the ground grow smaller.
Two griffins are rising beside us. The gray one carries Violet, and beyond him, the brown one has Lark.
The wind is icy cold. My body shudders. Pain and hopelessness drag me under into darkness. My last fleeting thought is that I have failed.
Violet
The ground drops away as we soar into the darkening sky. My mind is gripped by the terror of the scene that just unfolded, of being airborne, and the unknown fate that lies ahead.
Shivers wrack my body, my teeth chattering furiously. I screw my eyes shut, my fingers gripping the huge claws that hold me securely but with gentleness.
Atlas. The Pride Leader has me in his grasp. Having seen his image in Master Pugstone’s book, I recognized him instantly when he dropped through the forest canopy into the clearing.
The memory of Lark’s prone body—and the blood—is fresh and raw, counters all sense of nobility I hoped to find. There is no gentleness here, nor a hint of honorable intent. These are unfeeling beasts, and my foolish quest has delivered two men I love into their clutches.
I never told them I loved them. And how tragic is that? Why did I wait? Why did I chase this stupid dream when I had a dream right in front of me? They have cared for me for all this time, loved me, and loved my body, and I didn’t even know. Why is it only now, when it is all too late, so obvious?
A deafening screech—my eyes pop open to find a craggy peak looming. I brace for impact, but the landing is surprisingly soft before I’m lowered to my feet.
My legs cut out, and I drop to my knees. One giant claw snags my collar when I try to scramble away.
Around me, filling the broad stone ledge, are griffins in every color of the rainbow. I try to count them, but there are too many, too huge—a jumble of feathers, beaks, and lashing tails before my eyes rest upon Lark, face down on the floor.
“Lark!”
Lark groans and pushes up. A black griffin slams one giant spread talon over the center of his back, pinning him to the stone floor.
Rafe is dropped beside him. Still conscious, he roars and charges for me the moment he’s free.
He makes it no more than a step before the russet griffin knocks him to the floor, leaps to pin him, and raises a bloody claw over his throat.
“Don’t!” I scream.
The russet griffin freezes with his bloody claw poised to strike Rafe.
His head swivels, and his whirling amber eyes land, not on me, but on the griffin behind me who holds my collar.
They look at each other for a long moment while my chest heaves and my breath saws unsteadily in and out.
Something seems to pass between them, and the razor-sharp claw retreats from Rafe’s throat.
A violent cramp hits me low in the belly, ejecting a cry from my lips. I double over.
Stillness. All eyes turn my way.
The pressure on the back of my collar disappears.
A whooshing sound fills my ears, and the air behind me shifts.
Goosebumps erupt across my feverish skin.
Another savage cramp ejects a moan from my lips.
My eyes remain locked on the stone floor as light footsteps circle me, and broad male feet enter my vision.
My senses are going haywire, and steeling myself, I follow the line of strong calves and thick muscular thighs, slamming past the male cock that hangs long and thick, ridges of abdominals, and a broad male chest.
Dark hair with hints of storm gray is whipped by the strong breeze, and a cold expression that brings a tightening to my chest—Atlas’s human form is every bit as arresting as his griffin.
I whimper and avert my eyes, battling to erase the memory of the strange ridges on his beastly cock.
He crouches before me, the whooshing sounds of griffins shifting to their human form reverberating around the cavern-like entry.
I start when his fingers snag a lock of my hair and lightly tug.
The air crackles. Giant wings—griffin wings—snap into being and curve around me, creating a barrier between us and the rest of the chamber and shielding me from the wind.
Only now do I realize how I was shivering, chilled despite the heat radiating from my core.
“Heat,” Atlas says implacably.
I nod. There is no disguising what I am, nor what is happening to me.
“How many heats have they tended you through?” he asks.
Gods, he knows. How can he know?
“I-I’m not sure,” I stammer, low, for his ears only. “Four, maybe five. I don’t remember what happened after… Please don’t hurt them. I-I love them. Please, if you have any mercy, let them go, let them live.”
“Barely acquainted and already bargaining with a Pride Leader, little red,” he says, tugging lightly upon the lock of my hair again. He sounds amused rather than angry with my request. “Are you going to be a good girl if I do not hurt your mates, hmm?”
Mates?
“Yes,” I say quickly, daring to glance up.
I get lost in his stern face and his strange, whirling eyes.
He almost smiles, then seems to catch himself, and darkness takes its place.
He releases my hair. “I shall not hurt them unduly, but I cannot let them go. Not when you have bonded. Not when their seed has already been spilled inside your cunt.”
He rises, and his wings snap out of existence.
“Let her go,” Rafe snarls.
The huge male with ash-blond hair cuffs him. “Speak when you are spoken to, human, lest I shift and tear out your innards before your stolen prize. They will make a paltry feast, but I will do it anyway.”
“Don’t hurt him,” I beg of Atlas. “You promised.”
He arches one brow, and it shuts my stuttered protest right up.
My body is on fire. Sweat is soaking my clothing and making me shiver violently under the icy breeze that buffets me once more.
“They will have to do,” Atlas says with a nonchalant shrug. “Bring them to the chamber.”