Page 45 of Griffin Food

I sit up gingerly. Lark cracks open one eye. I gesture for him to stay and force myself to stand.

I’m shaking all over from that little effort. Food and drinks are still set on one side, covered. I’m powerfully thirsty, but my attention does not linger upon the pitchers for it is snagged by an opening in the wall. It is wide but maybe only a handspan high, resembling a window; instead of showing the outside, beyond it is a corridor.

I turn slowly. The room is circular, and along the entire circumference of the wall are open windows that reveal stone walls and flickering sconces beyond. The wooden door is still in place and closed.

The window-openings were not there before… or perhaps they were covered. It’s not like I was overly focused on the chamber when we arrived.

Voices near, footsteps approaching. My hackles rise, and my eyes search the room for anything that resembles a weapon. Nothing. I put my body between the sounds and my mates… mates? My tension surges when two faces appear at a window. I do not recognize either man, but instinct tells me they are griffins. Their eyes slide to peer beyond me to where Violet lies blissfully unaware, then swing back to me.

Low words are exchanged, and they move on.

Understanding blooms. My heart is blighted. We are like animals in a pen for our masters to watch at their leisure.

I’m still caught, fucking fuming, when the wooden door behind me creaks. I pivot to face it as it swings open. Lark and Violet start, scrambling to their feet, and I put myself between them and this new threat.

The big bastard—the leader—steps inside, followed by the other two, whom I recognize as his second and third.

“Good. I was told you were awake. I am Atlas Aldric, Pride Leader. This is my second, Darrion Darkan.” He indicates the male with ash-blond hair and an air of superiority, then the final man with red hair and restless hazel eyes. “And my third, Fenix Galeor.”

They are very fucking formal.

Atlas smiles. It does not reach his eyes. “You may address us by our given first name. Our second names are those of our bound griffins.”

Bound griffins? How the fuck does that work? Are they not one and the same?

“Now, let us talk,” he continues.

“Talk?” Lark’s tone is sharp. He gathers Violet close, and tucks the pelt around her more tightly, scowling. “Fuck off and give us our clothes. What kind of twisted fuckers would take them anyway?”

The taking of our clothes is probably the least twisted thing that they’ve done, but I don’t bother to point that out.

Darrion cracks his knuckles. “Insolent pup.” He turns to Atlas. “Let me see to his attitude readjustment.”

Atlas

I sigh heavily. I had hoped to avoid further conflict. We need to separate Violet from her wards, at least for now, and I can see that I shall have a godsdamned mutiny on my hands.

I cannot even blame our guests this time when Darrion is all surly aggression.

“We took your clothes away because they were filthy and covered in blood,” I say reasonably. “But perhaps we should proceed directly to a full explanation of your situation.”

No one speaks. Darrion and Fenix know better than to interrupt me. Darrion has already overstepped himself, but I will deal with him later.

The two men are wary. Their world has just been turned on its head. I caught their names during their capture and the heat. The broader-chested, older of the two is Rafe. His much younger counterpart goes by Lark. They are both holding secrets, maybe from themselves, or maybe only from their ward.

I shall need to deal with that promptly, too.

The young omega, Violet, is wide-eyed and pretty as she peeks at me between the walls of her two mates. She smells of them, which is displeasing, but beneath that, I can smell her slick heat, and it makes focusing difficult.

Still, I have ever been known for my iron will. While her ravishment is inevitable, I can yet temper myself. She does not know us, probably fears us, and the necessary steps we must take will likely increase that before we can gain her trust and submission.

But I want her. It is like a compulsion writhing under my skin, watching the mute shifter, Lark, fist her cunt had damn near tipped me over the edge. Her scream of pleasure while he was all up inside her, ruining her needy cunt had me spewing my seed like a green whelp. That I was not the only griffin present taking my cock in hand while I watched offers no comfort.

My wings have shifted. I don’t know when it happened, but they spread wide behind my back.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I ask of my griffin.

“We are displaying our assets,” Aldric announces imperiously. “We are the Pride Leader. Our wings are broader, more lustrous, than any other. We must present ourselves for her approval.”