Page 137 of Griffin Food

I have been in the Sundial Chamber on occasion—usually for ceremonies, though it is open to anyone who wishes to enter. It is beautiful but mostly empty, save for the great sundial that dominates the north side. Regular citizens of the eyrie sometimes visit for the views. As a griffin shifter, views are hardly rare in my life, and the eyrie itself is full of beautiful places—my new quarters within Atlas’s suite are palatial and comfortably appointed.

And yet the Sundial Chamber is special. I understood that even before the picture. Perhaps today more than ever.

Yet the burgeoning anticipation inside me is accompanied by trepidation.

Rafe.

What if he is dying?

My hands curl into fists.

He cannot fucking die. There was a time when I put him down as an annoying male, but he has come into his own. He is good to Violet and for her—that tells me all I need to know.

I am still festering inside when the entrance to the Sundial Chamber comes into view. We do not reach it for a servant cuts us off, and in a no-nonsense manner orders us to an adjoining bathing chamber where we are to cleanse.

I take this in my stride. Atlas remains quiet, and so does his griffin, Aldric.

“Resonant bonding,” Fenix says under his breath, and with no small measure of dark glee.

My heart thunders in my chest. Rafe? The potential power boost? Maybe both. “Do you think that will work?”

“If it doesn’t, the human will die,” Darkan offers helpfully.

Great. No godsdamned pressure then!

Strip and bathe efficiently. It’s fair to say my mind is at sea. Only when I emerge and dry do I notice that my clothes have disappeared, replaced by a black silk robe. A little flashy for my style, but I approve of the material quality as I slide the simple robe on. It falls all the way to my feet. My hair is damp but drying quickly, and I rake my fingers through it, letting it fall as it will.

I am unexpectedly nervous, and I do not consider myself a nervous man.

Shoulders back, I push out of the chamber and nearly collide with Fenix, who is similarly adorned.

“What the fuck is this about?” he says, gesturing between us.

I presume him to be talking about the clothing, although it could be the forced cleansing. Given I have no answer to either, I don’t bother to reply. Then we exit the bathing suite where the vast assembly of people brings us to an undignified halt.

Darkan begins humming in my mind.

Ahead, lining the corridor all the way to the great double-doored entry to the Sundial Chamber are people: servants, wing members, and finally wing leaders, decked out in their finest dress uniforms.

I shouldn’t mind a dress uniform over this silken garb…

The door opens behind us, and a freshly cleaned-up, black-robed Lark steps out. He tugs at the lapels of his robe and gives the two of us a quizzical look. Then he nods at the people in the corridor before he claims the place to my left. “It’s about to go down, then?”

My lips curl into a strained smirk. “It would seem that it is.”

We walk together down the corridor with Lark to my left and Fenix to my right.

The servants bow.

The griffin wing members bow.

And then finally we come to the wing leaders, who likewise bow.

Vander and another wing leader step forward to open the big double doors. We enter. My breath catches. There, before a low platform, stands Violet, a vision in white silk. At her side, holding her hand is Atlas, dressed like us in black.

I barely notice my Pride Leader. My eyes are all for the woman I love. Her hair is a riot of red-gold curls that cascade over her left shoulder. Her pretty eyes are bright, though there is a knot of worry between her brows.

My countenance softens, for all she feels, I feel it too. And there beside the dais, covered in a simple silk cloth, lies Rafe. Utterly still.