Page 79 of Griffin Food

“Well, you shouldn’t have done.”

She turns to face me. “Rafe, please.”

“I don’t want her to fucking see me like this.”

The red-headed griffin, Fenix, folds his arms. “It was not your decision, human.”

A deep growl erupts from my chest. It is not the first time I have made this sound. More often, it is during rutting. But I’ve heard that the omegas who mate with betas can change them somewhat. I believe this must be happening to me.

“Please,” she begs. “I cannot bear to see him chained. Won’t you let him stay with me in the nest tonight? He needs rest. We all do.”

“No,” Atlas says, unmoved. “Not tonight. I conceded this much, said that you might see him yourself, and that he is unharmed and well.”

“He is not well,” she says adamantly, fire flashing in her eyes.

I tighten my arm around her, feeling her tension radiate into me. They are all fucking idiots of the highest order if they thought it was a good idea for her see me broken thus.

Atlas steps forward. Lark curls his lips, although he doesn’t issue a growl. Atlas continues to draw closer until he is standing no more than a pace away from us.

“What has begun cannot be stopped,” he says. He said something similar just before he walked away, leaving me here.

“We have all had a stressful day,” he continues. “You need rest, Violet. Fenix will escort you and Lark back to your nest. Know that I will not keep you from your mate. You may see him again. But the timing is delicate, and even for you, some rules cannot be broken.”

“What rules?” she demands.

“The rules of the Goddess herself,” he says. “The rules of nature. If you do as I ask, if you return to your nest, take comfort with your mate, Lark, then I will consider letting you see Rafe tomorrow.”

His tone brooks no argument. I have already surmised that griffins are apex predators, and Atlas is at the top of them all. He makes no concessions save those he chooses to make. Nor does he offer false comfort. He is not unnecessarily cruel, more steadfast in what he deems to be right. I can disagree with him even as I respect him. I can hate him and admire him at the same time. These feelings are not mutually exclusive.

Just as I can love the woman clinging to my arms, not wanting to let her go, and yet likewise know she should take comfort with Lark in our nest.

“I could stay here with him. I could make my nest here.”

“This is no place for you, lass,” I say. Her lips quiver. I fucking hate being the one to support him and to have to tell her this, but it’s true. I’d be a selfish bastard to want her to sleep here and nest with me in this cold training pit. I would give this woman the moon if only it were possible. And my life. It’s a given that she has already claimed everything I am.

“You will return to your nest. Where you will try your best to rest,” Atlas says. “For Rafe.”

He holds out his hand, just as he did before in her nesting chamber the morning after her heat was done.

It is symbolic. He is not a man who forces or demands. He is quiet authority, and I am coming to understand, that ultimately, he will always get his way. There can only be one leader, and that position is taken.

He waits. Patient. He does not waste words that do not need to be said.

She sobs and clings a little tighter. I don’t set her away. She will decide. And she will decide to take his hand soon enough. And then she does. The slight easing away is followed by a beat where she clings again and presses her lips to my throat—and then, as her face turns away, she reaches out a single trembling hand to meet Atlas’s.

I swallow thickly as his fingers close around hers, and he draws her away. Not into his arms—no—but instead guiding her as Fenix steps forward. Her hand is passed from me to Fenix. He is stoic as he claims her small hand within his.

She glances back at me once, her eyes brimming with tears that spill down her cheeks. “I love you, Rafe. Whatever happens, whoever you are—” A sob catches in her throat. “I don’t need more than you already are. You are perfect to me.”

Gods, her words are near enough to bring me to my knees.

She leaves. Her footsteps light on the floor. Lark remains a moment, his wolf eyes on me, before he turns and pads after them.

The door closing upon them is ominous. Leaving me alone with Atlas and Darrion.

He wants to say something. I don’t know what it is, but that he waited for her to go fills me with fresh dread. Reaching into a pocket, he draws out a strip of leather. Attached to it is a ring.

He turns it over in the light and then holds it out to me. My brows pull together. The chain holding me rattles as I reach for it.