Page 117 of Griffin Food

“The door is open.”

Violet

I glance down and frown. There is no padlock, only a simple bolt that can be easily slid across. Their placement here, the escort, was not penal. It is steeped in the ritual and structure of their ways. They choose to stay here because they believe the punishment was just. They accept their leaders’ terms willingly, for that is how they have order.

My respect for all three of the men rises as this settles in. Natural tensions exist between them: three men and three griffins, all strong personalities vying for order amid, at times, conflict arising from their complex, nuanced life journeys.

I am a destabilizing force.

But I don’t want to be that anymore. I want to be the conduit, the piece that binds them back together. The way I did with Lark and Rafe, for they are now an equal part of this, too.

They are waiting, I realize. Waiting for me to decide what to do.

The offer is made. The door unlocked. I ask myself why I came down here, past the stern guard, Vander and his companion with their curious expressions. Not for a chat. Not even to see how they were faring. Deep down, I knew Atlas, the epitome of control, would not have done anything untoward. In fact, everything is as I might have expected, had I spent a moment in consideration.

Which leaves me with no alternative but to self-reflect on my actions in leaving my quarters and entering the cells, drawn here by unseen forces and no small amount of restless lust.

I swallow. Aware of the slick weeping between my thighs as I anticipate the invitation given.

“The door is open,” he said.

It is my choice what I do with this information.

My choice altogether.

And I have already chosen.

“You asked me about Fenix’s proclivity… weakness… fixation if you wish to call it so,” Darrion says, humor lacing his voice. “I believe you are about to find out. Do you trust us, mate? Do you trust us to take care of you, even here in this filthy cell? Do you enter this willingly, knowing we shall do no more than your sweet body can take, and in doing so, give you pleasure so deep you won’t remember this cell at all. Only us.”

I would not be here if they did not have my complete and absolute trust. I’m a little scared, truth be told. No, it’s more nervous anticipation. The good kind of scared. The kind I have experienced a lot of since I accepted my fate as a griffin mate and future Queen. “I do.”

Without further hesitation, I slide the bolt across, open the creaky metal door, and step inside.

Lark sits down.

Sometimes it is hard to recall the playful teasing male that lurks inside the wolf, the one who does wicked and intensely pleasurable things to me. He is going to watch. And perhaps a little of his wicked side has rubbed off on me, for I find I rather like that he will.

Fenix

She steps inside the cell, turns, and slides the bolt back across. Darrion and I rise in unison.

As the saying goes, that escalated fast.

Such a sweet, tasty little morsel. And how I desperately want to taste again. I can feel the saliva pooling in my mouth. The anticipation.

And yet I do not lead here. I am third. I accept that I am third.

But that isn’t even what this is about.

She has come here, and I understand that it was more about Darrion than me, for he has yet to taste of her.

I have to say, I approve of his gown. He has very discerning fucking taste, blessing us with the perfect wrapper that we might peel her out of it for our pleasure.

Galeor is crooning softly, tail lashing lightly from side to side. “We were gentle with her last time. Yet look at her eyes, how they blaze, taste her scent in the air. She is ready for us. Ready for what we need.”

Gods, my hands are sweating and shaking a little.

She just gazes up between the two of us. And then she holds out two hands.