Heart on Fire
The riveting conclusion to The Kingmaker
Chronicles coming January 2018!
GODS.
I’M AN IDIOT.
Without Griffin—and
apparently a few meddling Gods—to push me along, I’d still be telling fortunes
at the circus, lying about my past, ignoring my future, and living as far away
from my tyrant mother as humanly possible.
True understanding thuds
into place. Hope isn’t just an abstract concept; it’s me. Flesh and blood me.
Griffin knew it all along. Probably everyone did. I’m an idea in human form._
I
have the power of the Gods at my fingertips.
The only thing ever stopping me has been me.
Pre-order
Heart on Fire now!
USA Today
bestselling author AMANDA BOUCHET
grew up in New England and studied French at the undergraduate and graduate
levels, first at Bowdoin College and then at Bowling Green State University.
She moved to Paris, France, in 2001 and has been there ever since. She met her
husband while studying abroad, and the family now includes two bilingual
children, who will soon be correcting her French. Connect with her at www.amandabouchet.com.
Experience
The Kingmaker Chronicles from the start!
A
Promise of Fire
Breath
of Fire
Rafflecopter
Giveaway
Enter to win an advance reader copy of Heart on Fire by Amanda Bouchet!
Embed
Link
Readers of The Kingmaker Chronicles are already
well-acquainted with Griffin, but never before have we had the chance to see
the world of Thalyria—and Cat—through his eyes. In anticipation of the final
installment of the series, Heart on Fire,
Amanda Bouchet has written this companion piece from Griffin’s POV!
So, get comfy and dig in!
What Happened
in Velos Stays in Velos…
by Amanda Bouchet
Griffin watched Cat figure out their
location from only architectural clues and the fact that there was a nearby
forest. The way she put things together using a knowledge base most people
didn’t possess amazed him.
“How do you know so much about
Velos?” he asked, curious. “The circus travels a route farther to the west.”
“I’ve met people, heard things,” she
answered with a small shrug.
Annoyance ground against his earlier
admiration. Cat knew the truth—always—and yet she lied to him constantly. He
could see it in her face, knew when she was hiding something. He wanted what
was best for Sinta. Griffin was convinced that Cat did, too, but for them to start
making changes happen, he had to break through her animosity first. Sometimes,
he saw flashes of something else in her when she forgot to guard her expression,
something that made his chest clench. Maybe there was still hope.
“Help me, Cat,” he said, trying not
to sound like he was begging. Weakness wouldn’t go over well with her. She
responded negatively to force—that much was clear—but she respected strength.
“Or at least tell me the truth. I know when you’re lying.”
“Oh?” She looked like her last meal was
abruptly curdling in her stomach.
“Your eyes get twitchy.”
“My eyes do not get twitchy!” she
spat back, clearly horrified.
Did she really not know? She had so
many tells, but he almost felt like he was alone in seeing them. No one else
seemed to notice every nuance of her breath and skin.
“This one gets narrower.” Griffin
lightly touched the tip of his finger to the corner of her right eye. Cat
jolted at the contact. He wasn’t sure if that brought him satisfaction or
regret. Maybe it was some of both. He couldn’t figure out a lot of things when
it came to Cat, but he knew his own heart and body. They didn’t lie to him. He
cared about her deeply; he wanted her madly.
“It’s as if you’re expecting the lie
to hurt, but it doesn’t because it’s your own,” he explained.
Still looking like there was a sour
grape in her mouth, she leaned away from him and started walking again. “Thank
you for telling me. I’ll have to work on that,” she said through clenched
teeth.
“Cat…” he growled, stalking after
her. “Everything would be so much easier if—”
“—you let me go.”
Griffin shook his head. “I can’t.
You’re too valuable.”
“Aren’t you the lucky despot? The
one who caught the Kingmaker. Forgive me for not being overjoyed about becoming
your slave.”
“Not a slave.” Impulsively, he
reached out and grabbed her arm, swinging her back to him. “One of us.”
Cat wrenched out of his hold,
looking more than incredulous. She looked furious,
her mesmerizing green eyes practically on fire.
Gods, he wanted to shake her. Kiss
her. Make her believe him. It should have been obvious to her of all people
that he was telling the truth.
Once again, the fact that he’d
dragged her unwillingly from her home punched Griffin in the stomach, making
his gut twist. What in the bloody Underworld had he been thinking? His logic
and reason had seemed to melt in the heat between them and then abandon him entirely
when they’d really begun interacting. In the end, he’d just known she had to be
with him. They had to be together.
He inwardly grimaced. As far as
choices went about how to make that happen, though, there were undoubtedly
better ones. And now he was paying. Cat was making sure of it—as she should.
“I’ll never be one of you,” she bit
out with enough conviction to almost convince him.
Almost.
Griffin dragged a hand through his
hair, tugging it back. “You’re too stubborn for your own good.”
She glared at him. She was something
fierce.
Emotion tore through his chest. Would she ever forgive him?
The five of them—Beta Team, Cat, and
him—eventually reached the market rows, and Griffin pulled four silver coins
from his money pouch.
Flynn’s eyes brightened as he rubbed
his hands together. “Payday!”
Flynn, Carver, and Kato each took
the coin Griffin owed them, leaving one in the palm of his hand.
“Cat.” Griffin extended the coin to
her, an uncomfortable hesitancy making his heart pound. “Your pay.”
As he expected, Cat refused the money.
He wouldn’t push her. He wasn’t out to prove she was part of their team with one
gesture. It was a long-term effort, one that meant a great deal to him.
He put the coin away. “I’ll hold it
for you. I know what you want. You complain about it often enough.”
She looked up sharply, and then her
eyes narrowed. Did she like it when he
teased her?
Cat moved along next to him while he
bought her some fruit he thought she would like as well as some bread and
cheese. Not goat cheese. He knew better than that. Griffin tried to keep the
rope from pulling taut, but it wasn’t always easy. He hated to remind her it
was there. Not that she ever forgot. He just didn’t want to make things worse
between them.
He located a soap seller next and
tried to find something nice-smelling to replace Cat’s shrinking bar. He’d been
using hers, and there wasn’t much left.
The turn of his thoughts reminded
him of bathing so close to her, only a few feet apart. Gods, he wished he could
see her. Just a glimpse. Just the slope of her bare shoulder while her hair was
slicked back and water slid down the column of her throat…
Taking a deep breath, Griffin tried to
control the jagged, unsatisfied heat prowling through him like a caged beast.
Cat rolled her eyes. “You’re worse
than a woman. Just take the yellow one. It’s always the best.”
He reached for a block of
bright-yellow soap, picked it up, and sniffed. “Lemon.” He closed his eyes and inhaled
again, imagining breathing against Cat’s smooth skin. “Smells like you.”
“And you,” she shot back, her color rising. “My soap should have lasted
another month.”
Ignoring the bite in her tone and
doing his best to redirect his blood to his brain, Griffin handed over payment
to the vendor. “We’ll take two,” he said in a voice like gravel.
“There is no we,” Cat muttered irritably as they continued down the row of
market stalls. “Don’t act like I have a say in any of this.”
Now that wasn’t true. Griffin turned, frustrated again. Yes, he’d
willingly pay for his highhanded stupidity. He’d pay forever if it kept Cat
with him, but short of letting her go just to watch her walk away from him,
from Sinta, and from everything they could accomplish together, he’d give her
anything she asked for. And she damn well knew it.
“You could have a say,” he growled at her. “And you could bloody well
choose your own soap!”
“I did! I told you to take the
yellow one.”
“And I did!” Cursing under his
breath, Griffin stalked toward the next vendor, somehow forgetting about the
magic rope. The bloody thing pulled taut, and he accidentally jerked Cat right
into someone who suddenly stumbled in from the side. The man looked innocuous
enough, but off-balance and dazed. High from some spell, no doubt.
Griffin was about to intervene when
Cat gasped and reached out to the stranger with a visible shudder. Her face lit
up as she grabbed the man’s shoulders and pulled him even closer.
Griffin scowled. What in the
Underworld was she up to now?
***
“Cat?” Griffin stepped closer to
her. “Cat! What are you doing?”
Laughing, she finally released the
stunned-looking man. She turned and stumbled straight into Griffin, sucking in
a sharp breath when he caught her bare arms to steady her. Her eyes flared,
then softened.
“You’re pink!” She giggled, the
sound seeming strange and unnatural coming from her.
Griffin frowned, which apparently
made her laugh harder. Her eyes unfocused, Cat splayed her hand over his chest.
He thought it was for balance. She probably wouldn’t have touched him
otherwise. He still reveled in the warm, light weight of her fingers. He’d
longed to have her hands on him.
Cat stared at his chest. She seemed
fascinated. She slowed her breathing to match his.
“Poseidon’s
balls! What in the Underworld did you do to me?” The man who’d stumbled
into Cat didn’t look dazed anymore; he looked infuriated.
Cat blinked. She blinked again,
tilting her head to one side. She stayed right next to Griffin, her hand still
on his chest.
The man staggered, fighting tremors
and hiccupping down a series of short, disjointed breaths. His overly lean,
unhealthy frame spoke of dependence and bad choices. Griffin tensed in case the
addict got any stupid ideas about accosting Cat—who had clearly done something
to him with her magic.
“That dose was supposed to last all
day!” the man snarled. “I paid good silver for it. Give it back!” He lunged at
Cat.
Griffin wrapped his arm around Cat’s
waist and swept her out of the man’s path. The addict howled, and she laughed,
leaning into Griffin in a way that warmed his entire side. Enraged, the addict
drew a knife and waved it in Cat’s direction, a crazed light sparking in his
already frantic eyes.
No one threatened Cat. Griffin shot
out his hand and knocked the knife from the other man’s grip. It wasn’t hard;
the addict already shook. He had no intention of stopping there. He leapt
forward and wrapped his hand around the man’s throat. He held on to Cat as
well. There was no way he was letting her go.
Her gaze bright, almost rapt, Cat
stared fixedly at Griffin’s arm until he tossed the man to the ground. Kato,
Flynn, and Carver formed a perimeter, keeping everyone else away and the addict
in. Cat clapped and smiled, wiggling in apparent delight.
“Dose of what?” Griffin demanded in a hard voice. He needed to know what was
wrong with her, and he needed to know now.
Cat shivered, and he couldn’t help
gripping her tighter. He was self-aware enough to know he didn’t pull her closer
solely for her protection.
Banking on sheer intimidation as the
best way to handle the addict, Griffin drew a knife and threw it with
precision, sticking it a mere inch from the man’s ear. “The next one lands
somewhere that hurts,” he snarled.
The addict paled, his mouth going slack
as his eyes darted to the blade next to his face.
“Brutal,” Cat commented. She didn’t
sound averse.
Griffin glanced at her. “No one touches
you.”
She bit her lower lip, looking
adorably confused. “You’re touching me.”
Griffin’s eyes fixed on her mouth.
“I’m the exception.”
She seemed to stop breathing, to
maybe even like what she heard. Hope jerked in his chest. Smiling, Cat swayed
toward him, and his fingers tightened on her hip. It took an almost herculean
effort to resist hauling her up against him and kissing her like he’d wanted to
since the moment he’d first laid eyes on her, weeks ago.
Griffin briefly closed his eyes. Cat
wasn’t herself, and he wouldn’t take advantage of her.
Focusing on the addict again, he
ground out, “I’m waiting.”
Cat turned back to the man at their
feet as well and pointed her finger. “Answer or die!”
She did menace with absolute
believability, and the man’s face went cloud-white. Cat burst out laughing.
“Euphoria,” he finally answered,
pushing himself up to sitting. “Paid five silvers for it, and the little leech
stole it with one touch.”
The addict spat at Cat, and a low
growl rumbled in Griffin’s throat. He wasn’t in the habit of beating on people
weaker than himself, but right then, he was sorely tempted.
“You
bumped into me,” Cat announced,
although she didn’t look entirely certain. She peeled Griffin’s arm off her
waist and then stumbled away, unsteady on her feet.
The rope snapped tight, and she
swayed. Following her, Griffin put his hand on her lower back to steady her,
and the slight, momentary hitch in Cat’s stride was the only indication that
she’d felt him behind her. She ignored him otherwise.
“What about the addict?” Carver
asked, handing Griffin back his knife.
“Leave him.” Griffin stayed close to
Cat as he sheathed the blade. “Make sure he’s not following.”
Cat hummed as she walked, almost
dancing. Without her usual dark cloud of cynicism and understandable fury in
place, there was a brightness to her that riveted him. Griffin wanted to enjoy
it, enjoy her, but he was too worried
about what she’d done to herself—and how it would end. Highs inevitably came
with lows.
She stumbled, dizzy and distracted,
and he easily caught her around the waist. Gods, he loved the feel of this
woman in his hands. He wanted her under him. Over him. Everywhere.
“You’re high on euphoria.” He slid
his hands up her ribcage to better balance her as she swayed. “A strong dose,
calibrated to a man twice your size.” Their eyes met, and Griffin felt her
soft, dreamy gaze straight down to his groin. “How did that happen?”
Cat beckoned, and he lowered his
head. Their faces brushed, and he wished he could turn and capture her lips with
his. It was torture to hold back, especially when Cat pressed into him, seeming
to enjoy the contact.
“I can steal magic,” she told him in
a conspiratorial whisper. “If you had any, I’d steal yours.”
Griffin kept a steady expression,
even though her words shocked him. He’d never heard of that. He’d known Cat was
valuable, powerful, but good Gods,
was there nothing she couldn’t do?
Without his immunity to harmful
magic, he could never hold on to a Magoi like Cat—magic rope or not. Although
the rope certainly helped.
Helped keep her, he thought grimly. It didn’t help their relationship.
Her sudden smile nearly winded him.
“I can give it away, too.” Cat laid
her hands on his chest and then shuddered. She frowned, seeming baffled.
“You don’t want any?” She pushed on
his chest again before dropping her hands. “There’s something very strange
about you.”
The realization appeared to delight
her. Laughter bubbled up straight from her belly. Griffin felt his own mouth
twitch.
Her amusement cut off abruptly, and she
scooted out of his arms, reaching for Kato. Kato’s eyes glazed over the instant
she touched him. He grinned like a fool.
“Everything’s pink!” Kato turned,
lost his balance, and knocked over an entire table of leather goods.
“For the Gods’ sakes!” Griffin
muttered. Now there were two of them.
The irate vendor started grumbling
curses, so Griffin handed over some money. Nothing was broken, and the silver
coin would more than pay for the mess.
He turned to someone who still had
his wits intact. “Flynn! Take care of him. Take him back to the inn. Make sure
he doesn’t do anything stupid or kill anyone by accident.”
“Oh, no!” Cat sang out in a loud
voice. “We mustn’t kill by accident. Only on purpose.”
“My sentiment exactly.” Griffin
gripped her hand and led her away from the growing crowd of staring people.
Cat giggled. Carver kept pace behind
them.
“Where are we going?” Cat asked,
starting to dance in circles around him. Griffin turned as well to keep the
rope from tangling—not that he’d mind if it drew her right up against him.
Her hands suddenly flew up, and she
started almost frantically taking apart her braid.
“We have one more thing to buy,”
Griffin answered, wondering if he should help her with whatever she was doing.
“I knew it!” She seemed to forget about
her now-disheveled hair and clapped, beaming. “What?”
“A drying cloth.”
Her face fell. Griffin knew a drying
cloth wasn’t very exciting, but she needed one, so there was that.
Cat’s head swiveled around, and she
walked off to the right, taking Griffin with her.
Her expression brightened once more.
“A sword! I want a sword. Can I have a sword?”
The way her eyes glittered when she
looked up at him punched a hole of happiness straight through his ribs. Right
then, he knew he could deny her nothing—except the freedom she wanted most.
“You can’t even lift a sword.” He
followed her toward the table of blades anyway. Maybe the vendor had something
small.
“I can. Watch me.” She reached for a
huge monstrosity of a weapon. It looked big, even to Griffin’s eyes.
“That’s odd. Someone must have glued
it.” She bent over the sword for a closer look and ended up hitting her face on
it.
Griffin’s heart spasmed. Was she hurt?
“Ow!” Cat popped up, rubbing her
nose and nearly falling over backward. His hand shot out to steady her, but
this time, she didn’t need him.
She frowned ferociously at the blood
on her fingers, but Griffin breathed a sigh of relief. The cut was a small
thing.
Cat eventually shrugged and then
wiped the red smudge from her hand, laughing again. The euphoria must still
have been strong in her system.
Brushing flyaway hair out of her
face, Griffin leaned in for a closer look. The nick had already stopped
bleeding.
In a move that startled him, Cat’s
hands shot up and gripped his face back. Griffin’s heart stopped dead in his
chest. She held on, her grasp tight at first. Then it loosened, and she trailed
her fingertips down his cheeks.
Heat rushed through him. He wished
he’d shaved for her. He didn’t dare breathe.
“Hmmm.” Her eyelids seemed to grow
heavy, her lashing dipping to shade her beautiful eyes. “Scratchy.”
Griffin swallowed hard. Cat was
touching him, and circumstances made it so that he couldn’t reciprocate.
He captured her hands in his and
slowly lowered them. He couldn’t help the light caress he gave her knuckles. He
didn’t do it consciously.
“The cut’s nothing.” Hardly
recognizing his own voice, he released her. If he’d held on to her much longer,
his skin would have caught fire.
With what felt like an Olympian
effort, Griffin turned away from Cat and nodded to a small blade at the end of
the table. The merchant handed it over, and he tested it, only partially to
distract himself. If it wasn’t a quality blade, it wasn’t for Cat.
The sword turned out to be sturdy,
well-crafted, and straight. “We’ll take it,” he announced. “And your smallest
sword belt with dagger loops.”
Cat looked thrilled, and Griffin
felt his chest expand.
“You’re buying me a sword? And a
belt for my knives?” Grinning, she astonished him by leaping on him.
Griffin caught her as her arms and
legs clamped around him. His heart thudded hard, his lungs seized, and his
whole body ignited. She felt painfully perfect in his arms.
Unable to resist, he angled his head
toward her and inhaled deeply. Cat smelled like frosted lemons—fresh and tangy,
with a hint of acidity. He loved her bite. He was fairly certain he loved her.
As he breathed her in, his chest
pressed against hers. The contact was exhilarating. His long, slow exhale
shuddered over her neck, and Cat shivered in his arms.
Breathy laughter fluttered against
his ear. “Ack! That tickles!”
A strained chuckle was Griffin’s
only response.
He forced himself to unlock his
greedy arms from around her and set her back on her feet. He knew Cat—an undrugged Cat—wouldn’t want to be in his
embrace.
Staying close to him of her own
accord, she smiled up at him in a way she never had before, like she meant it,
rather than like she wanted to chew him up, spit him out, and then stomp on him
until he was good and bloody.
Was this how things between them could
be if she trusted him? If he’d convinced
her that night at the circus fair instead of capturing her?
The thought made his chest ache, and
Griffin cleared his throat, chasing out regret and need with a gruff sound.
He’d figure out a way to win her over. He had to.
“The sword’s really for me?” Cat
asked.
He hadn’t fully let her go since she
hadn’t stepped back, and his fingers pressed lightly into her sides. “You said
you wanted one.”
Cat’s smile grew brilliant. “In that
case, I want two! One for each hip.”
He chuckled in spite of everything,
imagining it all too well. The problem was, Cat was dangerous enough already.
“Let’s start with one,” he answered,
drawing her a fraction closer.
Her breath caught, and it was agony
not to lower his head and kiss her.
To avoid temptation, Griffin turned
and paid for the sword.
Cat hopped along next to him when he
began walking again. “Can I have it? Can I? Can I, please?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“You can have it when I can trust
you.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
Griffin’s eyebrows flew up in surprise. “That’s it?”
“What’s it?” She flapped her hands,
swatting at something. “Did you see that?”
He frowned. “See what?”
“The bee. The Centaur bee. The pink
one.”
Glancing briefly toward Olympus for
guidance—and to keep from laughing—Griffin took Cat’s hand and led her through
the market. It would have been easier if she hadn’t been dancing—not that he
would ever stop her.
When she looked up at him again, the
joy in her eyes almost blinded him. “Thank you.”
Her simple words punched the air
from his lungs. “You’re welcome,” he answered gruffly.
“Not you,” she declared in an exasperated tone.
Griffin was content to not comment
and watch her dance some more. She stumbled over Carver’s feet. Quick, as
always, his brother helped her back up before he could reach for her, and
Griffin’s hands clenched with the need to steady her himself.
In thanks for Carver’s aid, Cat
dipped into a deep and graceful curtsy that looked like it could have been
executed in any royal court. He was surprised she managed it so well, given her
current state. The ease with which she moved smacked of years of practice and
raised questions he knew she wouldn’t answer.
Carver bowed back awkwardly enough
to make Cat laugh until she could barely breathe. They weren’t used to such
pomp in the south. Court etiquette was something he and his family still had to
figure out—preferably fast.
Feeling a rush of worry for his
family right now trying to integrate into royal life in Sinta City without him,
Griffin guided Cat toward a table covered in drying cloths. Cat jumped, trying
to catch the hanging ones while he looked through the selection on the table,
suddenly ready to be done with the market in Velos and get back on the road.
“This one,” he said, selecting a
yellow one about the same shade as Cat’s usual soap. She’d like that, wouldn’t
she? It was almost like having a set.
“Is that for me?” she asked.
Griffin nodded, his stomach sinking
at how disgusted she looked by his choice.
“Not that one. It looks like Cerberus
threw up on it.” She glanced from side to side. “I want that one!”
She seemed ecstatic about a flashy
red cloth big enough to cover four of her, so he put the yellow one back and
bought the red.
He couldn’t think of anything else
she—or anyone—needed, so Griffin steered Cat back toward the inn. Without
warning, she sat down in the street, yanking the rope tight between them and
pulling him to a sudden stop. Griffin let out a grunt of surprise.
Cat looked up at him, her nose
scrunching. “Serves you right. You could just untie me. Or let me go.”
There was the usual Cat. Her tongue
was still sharp, even if her mind was fuzzy. “And miss all this fun?” he teased.
Her laughter shook her all over.
Griffin smiled back, wishing things could always be this easy and enjoyable
between them. Maybe they would have been if he hadn’t been such a colossal arse
the night they met.
He opened his mouth to apologize for
capturing her, to solemnly ask her forgiveness, for another chance, for a
better them he was desperate to have,
when Cat’s head snapped around, and she jumped up, already running.
Bollocks! He’d missed his opportunity. He
knew himself; there was a good chance he wouldn’t take it again. Cat’s barbed
tongue could make even him hesitate, and she’d be back to her normal self soon.
And in the end, he wasn’t sorry they were together. He’d never be sorry for
that. Griffin ran after her.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
Carver jogged next to them on Cat’s other side.
She didn’t answer but then veered off
and ran up the steps of a bathhouse, crashing through the doors and nearly
plowing into a couple. She reached for the woman but then pulled back before
Griffin had to intervene. She kept going.
Chortling with glee, Cat raced
toward what Griffin suspected was the men’s pool from the artwork on the walls.
She didn’t seem to notice the increasingly explicit mosaics lining the
corridor.
They arrived at a tall door that Cat
tried unsuccessfully to open. She repeatedly groped for and missed the very
prominent latch.
Griffin reached around her to open
the door, not sure he shouldn’t have been barring the way instead. “I get the
feeling you’ve never been high before.”
She glanced up at him. “Have you?”
He shook his head. Never—and he
didn’t plan on it.
“Looks like fun,” Carver chimed in,
rather idiotically in Griffin’s opinion. It looked like a dangerous loss of
control to him.
Cat teetered toward Carver. “Want
some? It’s fabulous!”
Carver grinned. “No thanks. Offering
anything else?” he asked so smoothly that Griffin had to do a double-take
before the urge to punch his brother hit him.
Cat laughed, blushing prettily. Then
she sighed. “Don’t flirt.”
“Why not?” Carver asked, completely
ignoring Griffin’s hard stare.
“Don’t you know? Poseidon sent your
incredibly annoying brother to me with an oracular dream. Once-in-a-lifetime
thing. Except for most people. Most people never have one. Anyway”—she rolled
her eyes—“he probably thinks it means
something.” She snorted like that was beyond ridiculous when it was likely the
most important thing that had ever happened to him. “I’d rather eat goat balls.
Or goat shit.” She frowned, clearly confused. “Or goat cheese!” she abruptly
shouted.
“Oracular dream?” Griffin turned the
term over in his mind and in his mouth. He hadn’t known what it was called, or
that it occasionally happened to others, but he’d known it was life-changing.
He’d known it meant he was supposed to be with Cat.
“She’s a wealth of information,”
Carver murmured.
“What? Never heard of one?” Cat
shrugged. “I’m hot.” She turned, tripped, and went down before Griffin could
catch her.
He helped her to her feet again and
then followed as she ran straight into the men’s bathing chamber. Three naked
men looked over, startled.
Cat yanked her tunic over her head.
Griffin’s eyes widened. “For the
Gods’ sakes, Cat!” He wanted to look. He knew he shouldn’t.
Everyone else needed to get out now.
She kept stripping, and something
roared inside him.
“Out!” he shouted to the other men.
What in the Underworld was he supposed to do? He couldn’t leave her alone in
here. Not looking seemed impossible, especially when he needed to keep her
safe. And because he desperately wanted to.
The need to protect her, even from
himself, battered his chest. At the savage look on his face, the three men
scrambled out of the pool and ran. They averted their gazes from Cat, obviously
knowing what was good for them.
Cat turned back to him, completely
bare. Heat built in his groin and crept through his abdomen. Griffin wanted to
reach for her, to cover her. To cover her with himself. He nearly groaned.
His brother moved in his peripheral
vision. What in the Gods’ names was Carver still doing here? A growl ground
deep in his throat.
Before his narrowed eyes could snap
to Carver, Cat reached up and swept her fingers through his hair. Her touch was
light but sure. There was no hesitation, and even some gentleness. He wished
she would never stop.
She smiled and patted his head. “Good
Beta.”
The growl meant for Carver turned
into a grunted laugh.
“Woof!” she barked back.
Gods, she was amazing. And fun. And
strong. The knowledge made him grin and hit him square in the chest—which made
his eyes automatically drop to hers.
Griffin froze, balling his hands
into fists to keep from reaching for her.
She flushed. Her nipples hardened as
he watched, and the tension inside him exploded into something nearly
unbearable—hot and urgent. Griffin felt a muscle tick in his jaw as he clenched
his teeth, fighting to tear his eyes away from her. He lost the battle, and his
eyes dipped, sweeping over her. He swallowed hard. He wanted this woman more
than his next breath. But he wanted her to like
him first.
“Untie me or get in.” Cat’s throaty
whisper, her invitation, nearly brought him to his knees.
Griffin stepped closer to hide her
nakedness from Carver. He didn’t watch Carver leave the room, but he did watch
Cat blow his brother a kiss, and Griffin practically saw red. He’d never felt
so barbarically possessive in his life.
Finally alone with her, Griffin
lifted his eyes to Cat’s. “Give me your binding word you won’t leave without
me.”
“All right,” she agreed.
Could it be that easy? “Say it,” he
insisted.
She rolled her eyes with extra exuberance
and then bowed dramatically. “I won’t leave the bathing chamber without you, O
Imperious One.”
It was hard not to laugh. His ire
deflated instantly. Cat was his only concern.
Griffin untied the rope, trying to
keep his hands to himself. He accidentally brushed Cat’s waist at one point,
though, and his fingers almost caught fire. His whole body tightened with the
need to claim Cat for his own.
The instant she was free of the
rope, Cat turned and dove into the pool. She stayed underwater for so long that
Griffin started to get anxious. He realized he shouldn’t have worried when she
popped up a moment later, whooping and laughing.
She swam forever, and Griffin
couldn’t do anything but watch and make sure she didn’t hurt herself. She
played, frolicking in a way that made him long to join her. But she wouldn’t
like that. She might like it now—she’d
even splashed him and tried to coax him in—but she wouldn’t like it later. He
wouldn’t make the inevitable end of her fun worse by joining her and giving her
something more to regret from today.
Besides, how would he keep from
touching her? From showing her how hot he burned for her? If he got in, the
whole damn pool might evaporate just from the fire inside him.
Another long hour of torture later,
Griffin pulled up short. He saw the exact moment Cat’s high burned itself out
and fatigue and reality came crashing back to take its place.
She gasped, paling to
near-translucent. She started to sink.
Griffin stepped forward, but then
she seemed to recover enough to float. He hesitated. He wanted to help her, but
she probably wouldn’t want him touching her.
Cat’s face went from white to red so
fast it was blinding. She bowed her head, looking defeated, and Griffin’s heart
clenched hard.
“That’s why addicts stay high,” he
said softly. “It’s too awful when it ends.”
She sniffed but didn’t look up.
“Come.” Dropping his gaze to the
marble floor, Griffin held out her new drying cloth. It was more than big
enough to cover her up and warm her.
He didn’t look directly at Cat, but
he could still tell that she crawled up the steps, shaking, shivering, and
almost too weak to make it to the cloth he held. Griffin was going to hand it
to her, but then she just oozed into the material and waited. He wrapped it
around her and began gently patting her dry.
“Why did you take it?” he asked when
she closed her eyes, looking mortified, weary, and utterly alone.
Right then, Griffin wished more than
ever that he’d earned the right to take her into his arms and comfort her. But
he hadn’t, so he wrapped the cloth more firmly around her instead. She
trembled.
“The magic wanted to be inside me.”
She spoke so softly he barely heard. “I couldn’t control it. I-I didn’t even
try.”
Was it just his imagination, or had
Cat leaned into him?
He cleared his throat.
“It wasn’t his magic. It was a
spell.” Griffin straightened, wanting a better look at her. Pale face. Grey
lips. Blank eyes. The sight of her made his chest ache.
“It doesn’t matter.” She slumped,
hardly even upright. “It’s the same to me.”
Not knowing what else to do, Griffin
made sure the cloth was secure around her before trying to guide her toward her
clothes. “Let’s go.”
Instead of walking, Cat dropped to
the floor and curled up in a ball.
Watching her, Griffin’s gut sank. He’d
put her in a position where she’d felt compelled to steal unknown magic,
undoubtedly to help her escape. Now she was sick and miserable, and it was in
good part his fault. No wonder she hated him.
Griffin gathered their belongings
and then carefully picked Cat up off the floor. She surprised him by not
protesting. She even rested her wet head on his shoulder, her breath a sweet
warmth against his neck. He cradled her against him. He’d build trust one
heartbeat at a time if he had to.
“You never smell bad,” she murmured,
barely forming words around her fatigue.
“Should I?” Griffin asked.
“It would make you mortal, like the
rest of us.”
“I am mortal. That’s why I need—”
“—your help,” she finished with a
sigh.
“This isn’t a game, Cat.”
“Just leave me here,” she said
despondently. “You can’t carry me all the way back.”
Griffin grunted. That was absurd—in
more ways than one. “And leave behind my most valued treasure?”
She hesitated. Her breath seemed to
catch. “I won’t be used.”
Ah, the usual rhetoric. He smiled
vaguely. Was she coming back to herself?
“Egeria will win you over,” he said.
And he would, too.
She yawned, bringing the tip of her
nose into contact with his neck. He wished she’d let herself come even closer,
thought maybe a small part of her even wanted to, but suddenly she stiffened in
his arms.
“It won’t get that far.” Those five
words were sharper than anything she’d said in hours.
Griffin’s mouth flattened. And so it
began again. “You’re wrong. You’re wrong about a lot of things.” And somehow,
someday, he would prove it.
“I bled on that sword and didn’t
dilute it.” The panic in Cat’s voice shot tension through his body. “They’ll
track my blood. It’s been hours. They’re already on their way.”
“Who?” he demanded.
Wilting again, she yawned,
exhaustion seeming to drown her fear. “It’s your fault. You exposed me.”
Griffin held her tighter, his heart
hammering out adrenaline-laced beats. “I’ll protect you.”
She closed her eyes, looking
alarmingly weak. Almost unconscious. “You could try,” she whispered just before
her head lolled, and her body went limp in his arms.
Grim-faced, Griffin carried her
toward the inn. He had to do better than try. The fate of Thalyria and both of
their futures depended upon it.
No comments:
Post a Comment