Page 30 of Griffin Food

I want to ask him what he meant by close, only I’m suddenly afraid of the answer.

He rises, muttering about helping Rafe prepare our packs, leaving me all alone.

I stare at the remnants of breakfast.

Confused.

Strangely lonely.

Wistful for something more than adventuring.

I frown.

My dream is close enough to taste. But what after? What will I do next?

I don’t have a clue. They will leave me… go and find new adventures. Maybe I should agree to winter somewhere after all… eke out a little more time with them before we must go our separate ways.

No, this course is already set. Besides, I cannot be selfish. They have already given more than a year of their lives to me. It is time to see my griffins. And after, although it will destroy a part of me, it’s time to let them go and find happiness of their own.

Lark

I collar Rafe just as he’s leaving the local farrier with a bit of land, who was more than happy to care for the horses while we trek up the damn mountain to see a fucking griffin.

“She’s extra fucking close,” I say.

He rolls his eyes. “You think I don’t fucking know. Stubborn brat. I’ve a good mind to put her over my knee and bring it to a head. But without proper, permanent lodgings where she can be safely closeted, that could be risky.”

I grin. “Aye, she perked right up when you mentioned putting a blush on her ass. You know, every time you turn into a dominant asshole and start issuing threats to her behind, she’s practically panting. Mayhap if we were to pull those riding pants down, her pretty cunt would be dripping wet—uff!”

He slugs me.

I stagger back.

“What the fuck has gotten your panties in a bunch?” I rub my sore jaw and scowl at him.

“Me?!” he mutters, clenching and unclenching his fist like he is thinking of thumping me again. “You can’t just go spouting about her sopping cunt without consequences. She is close. So am I. I swear the woman has broken my fucking cock. Her extra edge of defiance and the damn bratting are the first signs that her heat is imminent. It’s all I can do not to toss her to the ground in the village square and rut her like a beast.”

“Well, all right then,” I say thickly. Rafe can become a bit of a bossy bastard while she’s in heat, but it’s not like I mind… “So, we get her out of the village, find a safe place to camp, and give nature a nudge?”

We share a look. One that encapsulates a year’s unrequited longing.

We are gone for her. Both of us. Looking back, I was gone that first fucking day we met when she boldly rode a half-feral stallion out of the castle and nearly got herself killed. Tiny little thing, all feisty and defiant, but with a sweet core underneath. She’s fucking clever too, and I’m self-aware enough to know that I’m not. Then there is her curvy body that no amount of horse riding or journeying can ever take away—thank fuck. All of this is more than enough to turn a man’s head toward claiming a prize afore any other bastard comes sniffing around. I’d worship her pussy all night, every night, no problem.

Then there is that other side of her, the sensual side, the fucking siren who takes cock like a champ and whines for more—that we only see when she is in heat—and a man never recovers from it.

We both want her with the same savage tenacity. We’d both share her without missing a beat, way past any sense of decorum or propriety.

Only she’s a princess and an omega, either of which alone would be too good for the likes of Rafe or me.

Fuck that.

She has dragged us over hills and across seas, and we have followed like a couple of love-drunk saps.

Her goal is to see a griffin.

Our goal is to work out how to finally, fully awaken our princess to what we do.

Then we can breed her.