Page 106 of Griffin Food

“Excellent.” Atlas is all business as he begins issuing instructions for his day.

My eyes slide to Rafe, who winks at me. And then I catch Darrion staring at me like I’m a curiosity someone has just dropped into his lap.

Don’t think about laps!

He’s wearing a burgundy silk jacket today, with a high collar and beautiful leaf embroidery along the lapels, cuffs, and coat tails in silver thread. It looks striking against his ash blond hair, his dark wings magically fitting through a manifested opening in the material. Beneath the jacket is a crisp white shirt, parted a little to expose the strong column of his throat.

I’m staring. I only realize it when he slips the jacket off his broad shoulders.

My eyes widen, and my breathing goes a little erratic.

Atlas is still talking, and Fenix has gotten involved, too, talking across me. I cannot hear a single thing they’re saying, for I’m staring at Darrion as he slides the jacket completely off and then holds it out to me.

I look from the jacket to him and back again.

The conversation trails off.

My heart beats a crazy ba-dump.

And it’s just there, begging me to take it. It would look so pretty in my nest. And I know it carries his scent. I can smell it from here.

Fine. I want the stupid jacket. I will have the jacket. It is my right. Am I not a Griffin Queen? It is nobody’s business but my own—and Darrion’s, who is offering it.

I take the jacket from him and, as surreptitiously as I can—given four men are watching—draw it close to my chest. Gods, I just want to bury my nose in it.

The conversation resumes. I catch the faintest hint of a smile on Darrion’s face before his attention is redirected as Atlas addresses him.

“Darrion, I would like you to oversee the eyrie watch today.”

His eyebrows raise just a touch. “You would not like me to accompany you? Or patrol?”

My ears prick. That sounded close to insubordination, and my eyes flash to Atlas to see what he will do.

“No,” Atlas says bluntly.

Maybe he’s annoyed about the jacket? Yet all I sensed was mild amusement when I took it from Darrion. Nothing more.

It sounds like he is giving Darrion a less important job, or what Darrion sees as a less important job.

“She needs protection,” Atlas says, tone implacable. “And in this heightened time, I trust no one more than you, my second, to keep a vigilant watch.”

Oh, this is about me.

Darrion inclines his head.

And then they are all leaving, all except Lark, who is still in wolf sentry mode by the door as they head out.

“Go wherever you wish,” Atlas says as he pauses at the door. “Remember, this is your home now. Posey will be along presently with your breakfast. If you wish to visit the library and familiarize yourself with it before Master Pugstone arrives, Posey will take you after breakfast.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

Darrion

I’m to stay behind and watch the omega. Again.

The damn mutt has already got it covered.

There is a battle coming, perhaps the biggest we have known in many years, and I, as second, should be negotiating. Negotiating is where I excel.