Page 68 of Griffin Food

I remain in wolf-form. No point riding a horse when I can outrun half the bastards here. A low, satisfied rumble builds in my chest. Heat prickles beneath my pelt—the promise of violence, of purpose. Atlas could have left me behind with Rafe. Instead, he chose to include me. To trust me.

We are part of this community now in ways I did not see nor understand before. And there is a rightness to stepping forward. Of being part of something. Something I never found in Hydornia. Not fully.

Home? Not yet. There are stones to shift first, yet it remains a possibility and one I have no aversion to.

I throw my head back and howl. The cavern amplifies the sound and sends it echoing off the stone. The griffins shriek in answer. Terrible cries that make every hair on my spine rise.

The human commander signals the charge. The ground rumbles beneath us as men, horses, griffins, and a lone direwolf surge forward. I sprint out front, paws striking earth, the forest path rising to meet me.

Overhead, winged shadows sweep the treetops.

And for the first time since arriving, something inside me settles.

Not loyalty.

Not belonging.

But readiness.

And the hope that someday, Rafe will fight beside me again.

Chapter Twenty-One

Darrion

As the other griffins peel south for the community under attack, I turn and beat heavily, my destination, the upper eyrie entry. Atlas, ever wily, waited until Darkan was at the helm before issuing his new orders.

It is a short trip before I land, transition to human, and quietly fume. I am to stay behind. I never stay behind. I am the least stay-behind kind of male. Adjusting the cuffs of my silk jacket, I feel irritation pinching under my skin. This is irregular.

Darkan preens within the confines of my mind. “We must protect the omega at all costs,” he informs me.

I roll my eyes. “There is nobody here,” I point out. “The battle is down below.”

“This is a noble duty.”

A noble duty? I want to roll my damn eyes, and eyerolling is more Fenix’s domain than mine.

Atlas has left me alone with her. I am not ready for this. Don’t trust myself fully. Not with her scent thick in my lungs and Darkan prowling beneath my skin. The back of my neck itches. I’m his godsdamned second. A battle is going on, and I cannot even listen in, for Atlas has shut me out of the pride link. If he needs me, he will call. Until then, all I get is silence.

I hate the silence. And I hate how her scent still clings, sweet and soft and maddening, making me restless. I cannot get the image of what Atlas did to her this morning from my mind.

With a growl, I head back toward the heart of the eyrie, but on the way, I catch a hint of her scent.

I frown. This corridor does not lead back to the kitchens, which is where she should be.

I pivot, sharply. My stride lengthens as I head up toward the upper entrance where I landed no more than moments ago.

When I step out of the corridor into the vaulted chamber, the object of my burgeoning obsession is standing at the cliff edge.

A growl rips from my chest before I can stop it.

What the fuck is she doing?

Battling down a reprimand, I stalk her slowly—and cautiously—because the last godsdamned thing I want is to startle her and send her tumbling to a rocky death.

She turns, gasps before I’m yet within grasping distance. “I just heard that they⁠—”

“Left,” I finish for her, edging in, still fucking anxious that she is so close to a deadly drop.