Chapter 35 Griff #2
The footsteps upstairs have stopped again, but I can hear voices now.
Low, male, discussing something in tones too quiet for me to make out words.
Savannah is pressed against my side, naked from the waist up and trembling slightly.
Whether from cold or fear or the lingering effects of her heat, I can't tell.
"Here," I say, shrugging out of my own shirt and handing it to her. "Put this on."
She takes it gratefully, pulling it over her head. It's too big for her, hanging past her thighs, but it'll keep her warm. And covered. The last thing I need is to be distracted by the sight of her skin when I might need to fight.
"How many did you say?" I ask Xavier quietly.
"Three or four. Hard to tell with the storm." He's moved to a position where he can watch both the door and the window. "Could be more by now."
Great. Just fucking great.
There's a new sound from upstairs. A door opening, followed by heavy footsteps on what sounds like wooden stairs. They've found the basement entrance.
Savannah's hand finds mine, her fingers cold despite the heat still radiating from her skin. "Griff," she whispers.
"I've got you," I tell her, and I mean it. Whatever happens, whoever comes through that door, they'll have to go through me first.
The footsteps are getting closer. I can hear them clearly now, and I sense that there is more than three of them.
How many, I’m not quite sure. They're moving with purpose now, which means they've likely figured out someone's in distress.
These are probably wedding guests who think they're helping, not realizing they're making things worse.
Neither option is particularly comforting.
Xavier has positioned himself to the left of the door, back against the wall. I've moved Savannah behind the couch, where she'll have some cover if things go bad. My knife is in my hand, balanced and ready.
The footsteps stop right outside the door.
For a moment, everything is silent except for the storm raging overhead and the sound of our breathing. Savannah's heartbeat is so loud I'm surprised the whole building can't hear it.
Then someone tries the door handle.
It doesn't turn - Logan made sure the locks were solid - but I can hear them testing it, pushing against the frame. There's a low conversation, too quiet to make out, followed by what sounds like someone examining the hinges.
"They're going to try to force it," Xavier whispers.
I nod. It's what I would do in their position. The door is solid, but it's not impenetrable. Give them enough time and determination, and they'll get through.
The question is whether Logan's distraction will work before they do.
There's a sudden sound from outside - shouting, distant but clear. Multiple voices, calling to each other. Then the sound of running footsteps, moving away from the building.
The testing of our door stops.
More shouting from outside, this time closer to the building. I catch fragments: "There!" and "Moving east!" and "After him!"
Then the footsteps above us are moving again, fast this time, heading for what I assume is the exit. Doors slam. Voices fade.
We wait in tense silence for another few minutes, listening. The building seems empty now, but appearances can be deceiving.
"Think they all followed him?" Savannah asks quietly.
"Maybe," Xavier says. "But we're not taking any chances."
He's right. Even if most of them followed Logan's trail, there's no guarantee they all did. Smart money says at least one stayed behind to watch the building.
"What now?" Savannah asks.
"Now we wait," I say. "Logan said to give him an hour."
She nods, settling back against the couch. But I can see the tension in her shoulders, the way she keeps glancing at the door. The brief spike of adrenaline has pushed her heat back for the moment, but I can smell it starting to build again. Her scent is getting stronger, more complex.
We're going to be in trouble soon if Logan doesn't get back.
"Griff?" Savannah's voice is softer now, and when I look at her, I can see the flush starting to return to her cheeks.
"Yeah?"
"When this is over... when my heat is finished and everything goes back to normal..." She pauses, biting her lower lip. "What happens then?"
It's a fair question. We've all been so focused on getting through the heat, on keeping her safe and claimed, that we haven't talked much about what comes after. What it means for the three of us to share an omega. What it means for the pack dynamic.
What it means for me.
"I don't know," I admit. "But whatever happens, you're ours now. That doesn't change when your heat ends."
She nods, but I can see the uncertainty in her eyes. And I get it. This is all new territory for her too. She's never been claimed before, never been part of a pack bond this complex.
Hell, none of us have.
"Are you worried?" she asks.
I'm terrified that when the heat fades and the biological imperative is gone, she'll realize she doesn't actually want this. Doesn't want me. That Logan will always be her first choice, and I'll go back to being the grumpy bastard on the sidelines.
But I can't say that. Not when she's looking at me with those trusting eyes, not when she's wearing my shirt and still carrying the mark of my teeth on her neck.
"No," I lie. "I'm not worried."
She studies my face for a moment, and I have the uncomfortable feeling that she can see right through me. Savannah has always been too perceptive for her own good.
"Liar," she says softly, but there's no accusation in it. Just understanding.
Before I can respond, she's moving closer, pressing herself against my side. Her skin is hot again, and I can smell the sweetness of her arousal starting to bloom.
"Savannah," I warn.
"I know," she says. "I can feel it building again. But I want you to know something first."
"What?"
She looks up at me, brown eyes serious. "I chose this. All of it. Logan first, yes, but you too. And Xavier. This isn't just biology, Griff. This isn't just the heat talking."
The words hit me harder than I expected. Relief and possession and something that might be love all tangle together in my chest, making it hard to breathe.
"You sure about that?" I ask, because I have to. Because I need to hear her say it when she's thinking clearly.
"I'm sure." Her hand finds mine, fingers threading together. "I've been sure for months. I was just too scared to admit it."
And there it is. The truth I've been hoping for and dreading in equal measure.
I don't know what to say to that, so I don't say anything. Instead, I lean down and kiss her, slow and deep and thorough. She melts into me, soft and pliant and perfect, and I can taste the heat building on her tongue.
When we break apart, her breathing is uneven and her pupils are starting to dilate again.
"How long has it been?" she asks.
I check the clock. "Twenty minutes."
"And how long until Logan gets back?"
"Forty minutes. Maybe more."
She nods, then shifts in my lap so she's straddling me. The movement makes my breath catch, especially when she grinds down just slightly.
"That's enough time," she says.
"Savannah..."
"I need you again," she interrupts. "Please. The heat's coming back, and I need... I need you to take care of it."
How am I supposed to say no to that? Especially when every instinct I have is screaming at me to claim her again, to mark her so thoroughly that no other alpha will ever question who she belongs to.
"Xavier," I say without taking my eyes off Savannah.
"I'm watching the door," he replies, understanding immediately. "Take care of her."
Permission granted. Not that I really needed it, but it's good to know he's got our backs.
Savannah is already tugging at my belt, hands urgent and demanding. The heat is hitting her faster this time, probably because her system is already primed from before. Her scent is getting stronger by the second, sweet and musky and absolutely intoxicating.
I grab her wrists, stilling her movements. "Slow down," I tell her. "We've got time."
She whimpers, a soft sound of frustration. "It's building so fast. I need..."
"I know what you need." I release her wrists and cup her face instead, thumbs stroking over her flushed cheeks. "And I'm going to give it to you. But we're going to do this right."
I pull her close and set her down hard on the couch in the basement. It’s cold and cracked, but I don’t give a damn. This is where she’s mine. I grab her hips, my hands rough and claiming, and press her body against mine. She doesn’t resist. She wants this as much as I do.
My mouth crushes against her neck, biting with purpose.
Not out of cruelty, but because I need to taste her, mark her, make sure she knows she’s mine.
The copper tang of her blood fills my senses and fires something fierce inside me from when I bit her.
I growl low in my throat and pull back just enough to stare into her eyes.
They’re wet, trust shining in them, and it twists something deep inside me.
I cup her face, thumb brushing over her cheek as I drag her shirt up and over her head. Her skin is flushed and trembling beneath my touch. I don’t waste time with light kisses. I need to feel her respond, to hear her breath catch, to see her burn for me.
“Savannah,” I growl her name like a promise and a warning. “Right now you’re mine.”
I don’t soften. I grip her hips tighter, dragging her down so she’s lying back on the couch, raw and exposed under the single, flickering bulb. The storm outside beats harder against the windows, but inside this concrete room, the only thunder is between us.
I slide inside her slowly. Every movement is deliberate and heavy with meaning. The knot presses deep inside, a burning weight that locks us together. Her body tightens around me. She clenches every muscle, and it feels like she is holding onto me just as much as I am holding onto her.
I bury my face in the crook of her neck. I breathe in the scent of her skin and the steady pulse of her heartbeat under my lips. A low, rough growl rumbles in my chest. It is the sound of claiming, protecting, and possessing all at once.
She shivers beneath me. Her voice is barely a whisper. “Griff.”
The sound breaks the silence. I tighten my hold on her. “I’m here,” I murmur against her skin. My voice is thick with something fierce and deep. “You are mine.”
Her breath catches. She presses closer to me as if she wants to disappear inside me and never come up for air. I feel the heat radiating off her. The ache pulses between us. It is wild and urgent.
Every second feels stretched out, slow and heavy, full of tension and something unspoken. Neither of us needs to say more.
We are caught in this moment. Raw. Tangled. Burning.