Page 23 of Griffin Food

The dark fever that consumes me on occasion.

The intellectual scholar who views the world through a lens.

As I stare out of the leaded window into the dark cobbled streets of this quaint village nestled in the foothills of a mountain, poised to realize a dream, I feel the past reel me in.

Regrets? For certain. Yet my obsession is as potent tonight as it was when I slipped from my familial home in the dead of night.

I can never go back.

My hand trembles as I fiddle with the thin silk ribbon in my diary before I gather the lamp and head for the bed, pulling the thick covers back and slipping inside.

Adventure.

I left my home and everyone I knew, choosing self-preservation at the risk of finding myself mated to an alpha, or worse, in some dungeon at my sister’s behest. Yet regrets fester, telling me that this path I chose is coming to an end in more ways than my elusive goal to finally see a griffin.

What after?

I wish I could bury my omega side and let my appetite for knowledge win the battle once and for all, find a quiet position in a great library somewhere, and dedicate the rest of my life to research.

Is that possible?

I don’t really remember what happens when I go into a false heat, other than I trust Rafe and Lark, and they have always kept me safe through those times. Afterward, it’s much like waking from a dream, which soon fades and does not trouble me at all.

Yet something is building inside me, an urgency, an inner voice that tells me that my heat episodes are getting worse and that my next one will be harder still.

Nature always finds a way—I read that in a book somewhere once.

I harbor a terrible feeling that my adventures and travels, so far from all I know, which at their heart are my attempt to run away from inevitability, will come crashing down on me.

How do I stop?

How do I get off the ride and escape this terrible premonition?

I know only that I must fight it for as long as I can. Tomorrow sees the culmination of a dream, following lore and rumors, traveling here and there, following trails that more often end in disappointment.

This time, I’m certain, in a way I have never been before, that I shall finally get my wish and see a griffin.

Rafe

A year, halfway across the known world, and through a portal into another one.

I would follow Violet into the maw of hell itself—there have been a few hairy occasions when I felt much like I did…

What is that noise? “Are you jerking off, asshole?”

The sticky noises continue.

I grimace.

“Did you see when she bent over this morning, putting her diary in her saddlebag?” Lark says from his bed on the other side of the room. “Gods, that woman has fine buns. Firm, pert, and begging for a man’s hands to hold as he plows her. All that horse riding makes for a fine ass.”

I grunt and roll over, putting my back to him, disgusted as my cock wakes up and jerks. “I don’t need the fucking commentary.”

“It won’t take long,” Lark says confidently. “I mostly think about her sucking my cock. That has always been one of my favorites. Pretty cheeks hollowed, and eyes closed in bliss. She barely even gags unless you go really deep. As for swallowing, there is never a doubt that the lass is greedy for it. I came on her tits once, and she nearly shredded me with her nails, bemoaning how I was wasting what was hers.”

I twist onto my belly and thrust my face into the pillow, trying to block the fucker out.

“There you go, lass. I’ve got something to fill your belly.”