Page 122 of Griffin Food

“All of you…” Pugstone fumbles with the book, and it snaps shut on whatever he was about to show me. “But assuredly not unprecedented. Not at all.” He flips pages, shaking with giddy excitement.

I share a brief look with Darrion, Fenix, Rafe, and Lark while Pugstone mutters to himself.

Violet. No, I cannot linger on her pretty, blissed-out, floaty expression at the risk of shoving the books aside and fucking her over the table.

“Yes!” Pugstone says, jubilant. “Here it is. I sensed Violet’s situation, having two other suitors, might be extraordinary, so I took the liberty of researching. More of a curiosity when I first read about it many years ago, now. And, of course, there was no presumption you might find a mate even in my lifetime…”

“Pugstone,” I snap. “We are all very tired. Please get to the point.”

“Sorry, my lord. It is right here. All of it. Resonant bonding and amplification. Arimeed, the Valiant grandsire of Aribold the Great, shared his mate with his two lieutenants.” He taps the page, then twists the tome on the table for my viewing. “Feeding magnification. Pride-wide.” His eyes slide to Rafe and then Lark. “In your case, even more potent, I should not be surprised.”

My eyes are locked on the image. Three griffins in their half-shift form are worshipping a Pride Queen on the platform centering the Sundial Chamber. Light explodes from their rapturous union, striking the glass dome above as though the heavens themselves are answering the call.

“So pretty,” Violet says dreamily.

Five sets of predatory eyes and one curious set belonging to a scholar swing Violet’s way to find her mesmerized by the image in the book.

And quite an image it is.

One, I’m now overwriting with Violet in the center, and myself, the griffin penetrating her. So potent is the image, I damn near spring a talon.

Somebody clears their throat.

Rafe, I realize when I finally revive my wits.

“Violet needs to rest,” he says.

I nod. “Yes. Her nest, I think, would be best.” We are all tired, strung out. This is a lot, and we are at war. “Lark, go with them. Darrion, Fenix, select quarters for yourselves within the suite as befits your place as mates to the Queen. Master Pugstone. The hour is late… Early. Get some rest. Tomorrow, we will need this given your fullest attention.”

Chapter Forty-One

Rafe

Shaken by what has come to pass, I carry Violet to her nest. I feel as though I view myself from above, an omnipresent observer looking down upon a rough soldier—in his arms is a woman who has claimed his heart and life.

I place her in the center on top of Darrion’s jacket.

Lark, already naked, wades straight in, drawing her close as I step back. Even though he’s not in wolf form, he makes the low, rumbly purr that carries her swiftly back into sleep.

I make impressively short work of stripping out of my clothes, given my hands are fucking shaking. An eruption has been set off inside me. Something inexplicable. Not quite malaise. More awareness unfurling.

Gods, this is a lot for a simple male like me to grapple with.

With a last, lingering glance at the nest, I head into the adjoining bathing room where I splash cool water on my face.

The man who stares back at me in the fancy, gold-framed mirror is a little weathered by the years. He is also glowing. I run my fingertips down my cheek before turning my hands over in front of me.

I did not expect this. Not whatever happened between them, and certainly not that it would extend to Lark and me.

Especially not me.

I’m just a beta male, after all. Ordinary. Since Lark’s transformation, and then Atlas chaining me up, life has taken one hectic turn after another. There hasn’t been time to contemplate my fate. Or lack of it.

And I’ll be honest. All of this is more than a man like me could ever hope for.

I stand straighter, let my shoulders roll back, and meet the eyes of the man who stares back at me in the mirror.

I’m a lowly soldier. Not even for the likes of a princess. Never mind an omega princess who will one day be a Griffin Queen.