Genre: Fantasy
Series: The Kingmaker Chronicles #3
The riveting conclusion to The Kingmaker Chronicles coming January 2018!
About the Book:
GODS. I’M AN IDIOT.
Without Griffin—and apparently a few meddling Gods—to push me along, I’d still be telling fortunes at the circus, lying about my past, ignoring my future, and living as far away from my tyrant mother as humanly possible.
True understanding thuds into place. Hope isn’t just an abstract concept; it’s me. Flesh and blood me. Griffin knew it all along. Probably everyone did. I’m an idea in human form._
I have the power of the Gods at my fingertips.
The only thing ever stopping me has been me.
Pre-order Heart on Fire now!
Readers of The Kingmaker Chronicles are already
well-acquainted with Griffin, but never before have we had the chance to see
the world of Thalyria—and Cat—through his eyes. In anticipation of the final
installment of the series, Heart on Fire,
Amanda Bouchet has written this companion piece from Griffin’s POV!
So, get comfy and dig in!
What Happened
in Velos Stays in Velos…
by Amanda Bouchet
Griffin watched
Cat figure out their location from only architectural clues and the fact that
there was a nearby forest. The way she put things together using a knowledge
base most people didn’t possess amazed him.
“How do you
know so much about Velos?” he asked, curious. “The circus travels a route
farther to the west.”
“I’ve met
people, heard things,” she answered with a small shrug.
Annoyance
ground against his earlier admiration. Cat knew the truth—always—and yet she
lied to him constantly. He could see it in her face, knew when she was hiding
something. He wanted what was best for Sinta. Griffin was convinced that Cat
did, too, but for them to start making changes happen, he had to break through
her animosity first. Sometimes, he saw flashes of something else in her when
she forgot to guard her expression, something that made his chest clench. Maybe
there was still hope.
“Help me, Cat,”
he said, trying not to sound like he was begging. Weakness wouldn’t go over
well with her. She responded negatively to force—that much was clear—but she
respected strength. “Or at least tell me the truth. I know when you’re lying.”
“Oh?” She
looked like her last meal was abruptly curdling in her stomach.
“Your eyes get
twitchy.”
“My eyes do not
get twitchy!” she spat back, clearly horrified.
Did she really
not know? She had so many tells, but he almost felt like he was alone in seeing
them. No one else seemed to notice every nuance of her breath and skin.
“This one gets
narrower.” Griffin lightly touched the tip of his finger to the corner of her
right eye. Cat jolted at the contact. He wasn’t sure if that brought him
satisfaction or regret. Maybe it was some of both. He couldn’t figure out a lot
of things when it came to Cat, but he knew his own heart and body. They didn’t
lie to him. He cared about her deeply; he wanted her madly.
“It’s as if
you’re expecting the lie to hurt, but it doesn’t because it’s your own,” he
explained.
Still looking
like there was a sour grape in her mouth, she leaned away from him and started
walking again. “Thank you for telling me. I’ll have to work on that,” she said
through clenched teeth.
“Cat…” he
growled, stalking after her. “Everything would be so much easier if—”
“—you let me
go.”
Griffin shook
his head. “I can’t. You’re too valuable.”
“Aren’t you the
lucky despot? The one who caught the Kingmaker. Forgive me for not being
overjoyed about becoming your slave.”
“Not a slave.”
Impulsively, he reached out and grabbed her arm, swinging her back to him. “One
of us.”
Cat wrenched
out of his hold, looking more than incredulous. She looked furious, her mesmerizing green eyes practically on fire.
Gods, he wanted
to shake her. Kiss her. Make her believe him. It should have been obvious to
her of all people that he was telling the truth.
Once again, the
fact that he’d dragged her unwillingly from her home punched Griffin in the
stomach, making his gut twist. What in the bloody Underworld had he been
thinking? His logic and reason had seemed to melt in the heat between them and
then abandon him entirely when they’d really begun interacting. In the end,
he’d just known she had to be with him. They had to be together.
He inwardly
grimaced. As far as choices went about how to make that happen, though, there
were undoubtedly better ones. And now he was paying. Cat was making sure of
it—as she should.
“I’ll never be
one of you,” she bit out with enough conviction to almost convince him.
Almost.
Griffin dragged
a hand through his hair, tugging it back. “You’re too stubborn for your own
good.”
She glared at
him. She was something fierce.
Emotion tore
through his chest. Would she ever forgive
him?
The five of them—Beta
Team, Cat, and him—eventually reached the market rows, and Griffin pulled four
silver coins from his money pouch.
Flynn’s eyes
brightened as he rubbed his hands together. “Payday!”
Flynn, Carver,
and Kato each took the coin Griffin owed them, leaving one in the palm of his
hand.
“Cat.” Griffin
extended the coin to her, an uncomfortable hesitancy making his heart pound.
“Your pay.”
As he expected,
Cat refused the money. He wouldn’t push her. He wasn’t out to prove she was
part of their team with one gesture. It was a long-term effort, one that meant
a great deal to him.
He put the coin
away. “I’ll hold it for you. I know what you want. You complain about it often
enough.”
She looked up
sharply, and then her eyes narrowed. Did
she like it when he teased her?
Cat moved along
next to him while he bought her some fruit he thought she would like as well as
some bread and cheese. Not goat cheese. He knew better than that. Griffin tried
to keep the rope from pulling taut, but it wasn’t always easy. He hated to
remind her it was there. Not that she ever forgot. He just didn’t want to make
things worse between them.
He located a
soap seller next and tried to find something nice-smelling to replace Cat’s
shrinking bar. He’d been using hers, and there wasn’t much left.
The turn of his
thoughts reminded him of bathing so close to her, only a few feet apart. Gods,
he wished he could see her. Just a glimpse. Just the slope of her bare shoulder
while her hair was slicked back and water slid down the column of her throat…
Taking a deep
breath, Griffin tried to control the jagged, unsatisfied heat prowling through
him like a caged beast.
Cat rolled her
eyes. “You’re worse than a woman. Just take the yellow one. It’s always the best.”
He reached for
a block of bright-yellow soap, picked it up, and sniffed. “Lemon.” He closed
his eyes and inhaled again, imagining breathing against Cat’s smooth skin.
“Smells like you.”
“And you,” she shot back, her color rising.
“My soap should have lasted another month.”
Ignoring the
bite in her tone and doing his best to redirect his blood to his brain, Griffin
handed over payment to the vendor. “We’ll take two,” he said in a voice like
gravel.
“There is no we,” Cat muttered irritably as they
continued down the row of market stalls. “Don’t act like I have a say in any of
this.”
Now that wasn’t true. Griffin turned,
frustrated again. Yes, he’d willingly pay for his highhanded stupidity. He’d
pay forever if it kept Cat with him, but short of letting her go just to watch
her walk away from him, from Sinta, and from everything they could accomplish
together, he’d give her anything she asked for. And she damn well knew it.
“You could have a say,” he growled at her.
“And you could bloody well choose your own soap!”
“I did! I told
you to take the yellow one.”
“And I did!”
Cursing under his breath, Griffin stalked toward the next vendor, somehow
forgetting about the magic rope. The bloody thing pulled taut, and he
accidentally jerked Cat right into someone who suddenly stumbled in from the
side. The man looked innocuous enough, but off-balance and dazed. High from some
spell, no doubt.
Griffin was
about to intervene when Cat gasped and reached out to the stranger with a
visible shudder. Her face lit up as she grabbed the man’s shoulders and pulled
him even closer.
Griffin
scowled. What in the Underworld was she up to now?
***
“Cat?” Griffin
stepped closer to her. “Cat! What are you doing?”
Laughing, she
finally released the stunned-looking man. She turned and stumbled straight into
Griffin, sucking in a sharp breath when he caught her bare arms to steady her.
Her eyes flared, then softened.
“You’re pink!”
She giggled, the sound seeming strange and unnatural coming from her.
Griffin
frowned, which apparently made her laugh harder. Her eyes unfocused, Cat
splayed her hand over his chest. He thought it was for balance. She probably
wouldn’t have touched him otherwise. He still reveled in the warm, light weight
of her fingers. He’d longed to have her hands on him.
Cat stared at
his chest. She seemed fascinated. She slowed her breathing to match his.
“Poseidon’s balls! What in the Underworld
did you do to me?” The man who’d stumbled into Cat didn’t look dazed anymore;
he looked infuriated.
Cat blinked. She
blinked again, tilting her head to one side. She stayed right next to Griffin,
her hand still on his chest.
The man
staggered, fighting tremors and hiccupping down a series of short, disjointed
breaths. His overly lean, unhealthy frame spoke of dependence and bad choices.
Griffin tensed in case the addict got any stupid ideas about accosting Cat—who
had clearly done something to him with her magic.
“That dose was
supposed to last all day!” the man snarled. “I paid good silver for it. Give it
back!” He lunged at Cat.
Griffin wrapped
his arm around Cat’s waist and swept her out of the man’s path. The addict
howled, and she laughed, leaning into Griffin in a way that warmed his entire
side. Enraged, the addict drew a knife and waved it in Cat’s direction, a
crazed light sparking in his already frantic eyes.
No one
threatened Cat. Griffin shot out his hand and knocked the knife from the other
man’s grip. It wasn’t hard; the addict already shook. He had no intention of
stopping there. He leapt forward and wrapped his hand around the man’s throat.
He held on to Cat as well. There was no way he was letting her go.
Her gaze
bright, almost rapt, Cat stared fixedly at Griffin’s arm until he tossed the
man to the ground. Kato, Flynn, and Carver formed a perimeter, keeping everyone
else away and the addict in. Cat clapped and smiled, wiggling in apparent
delight.
“Dose of what?” Griffin demanded in a hard voice.
He needed to know what was wrong with her, and he needed to know now.
Cat shivered,
and he couldn’t help gripping her tighter. He was self-aware enough to know he
didn’t pull her closer solely for her protection.
Banking on
sheer intimidation as the best way to handle the addict, Griffin drew a knife
and threw it with precision, sticking it a mere inch from the man’s ear. “The
next one lands somewhere that hurts,” he snarled.
The addict
paled, his mouth going slack as his eyes darted to the blade next to his face.
“Brutal,” Cat
commented. She didn’t sound averse.
Griffin glanced
at her. “No one touches you.”
She bit her
lower lip, looking adorably confused. “You’re touching me.”
Griffin’s eyes
fixed on her mouth. “I’m the exception.”
She seemed to
stop breathing, to maybe even like what she heard. Hope jerked in his chest.
Smiling, Cat swayed toward him, and his fingers tightened on her hip. It took
an almost herculean effort to resist hauling her up against him and kissing her
like he’d wanted to since the moment he’d first laid eyes on her, weeks ago.
Griffin briefly
closed his eyes. Cat wasn’t herself, and he wouldn’t take advantage of her.
Focusing on the
addict again, he ground out, “I’m waiting.”
Cat turned back
to the man at their feet as well and pointed her finger. “Answer or die!”
She did menace
with absolute believability, and the man’s face went cloud-white. Cat burst out
laughing.
“Euphoria,” he
finally answered, pushing himself up to sitting. “Paid five silvers for it, and
the little leech stole it with one touch.”
The addict spat
at Cat, and a low growl rumbled in Griffin’s throat. He wasn’t in the habit of
beating on people weaker than himself, but right then, he was sorely tempted.
“You bumped into me,” Cat announced, although she didn’t look entirely certain. She
peeled Griffin’s arm off her waist and then stumbled away, unsteady on her
feet.
The rope
snapped tight, and she swayed. Following her, Griffin put his hand on her lower
back to steady her, and the slight, momentary hitch in Cat’s stride was the
only indication that she’d felt him behind her. She ignored him otherwise.
“What about the
addict?” Carver asked, handing Griffin back his knife.
“Leave him.”
Griffin stayed close to Cat as he sheathed the blade. “Make sure he’s not
following.”
Cat hummed as
she walked, almost dancing. Without her usual dark cloud of cynicism and understandable
fury in place, there was a brightness to her that riveted him. Griffin wanted
to enjoy it, enjoy her, but he was
too worried about what she’d done to herself—and how it would end. Highs
inevitably came with lows.
She stumbled,
dizzy and distracted, and he easily caught her around the waist. Gods, he loved
the feel of this woman in his hands. He wanted her under him. Over him.
Everywhere.
“You’re high on
euphoria.” He slid his hands up her ribcage to better balance her as she
swayed. “A strong dose, calibrated to a man twice your size.” Their eyes met,
and Griffin felt her soft, dreamy gaze straight down to his groin. “How did
that happen?”
Cat beckoned,
and he lowered his head. Their faces brushed, and he wished he could turn and
capture her lips with his. It was torture to hold back, especially when Cat
pressed into him, seeming to enjoy the contact.
“I can steal
magic,” she told him in a conspiratorial whisper. “If you had any, I’d steal
yours.”
Griffin kept a
steady expression, even though her words shocked him. He’d never heard of that.
He’d known Cat was valuable, powerful, but good
Gods, was there nothing she couldn’t do?
Without his
immunity to harmful magic, he could never hold on to a Magoi like Cat—magic
rope or not. Although the rope certainly helped.
Helped keep her, he thought grimly. It didn’t
help their relationship.
Her sudden
smile nearly winded him.
“I can give it
away, too.” Cat laid her hands on his chest and then shuddered. She frowned, seeming
baffled.
“You don’t want
any?” She pushed on his chest again before dropping her hands. “There’s
something very strange about you.”
The realization
appeared to delight her. Laughter bubbled up straight from her belly. Griffin
felt his own mouth twitch.
Her amusement
cut off abruptly, and she scooted out of his arms, reaching for Kato. Kato’s
eyes glazed over the instant she touched him. He grinned like a fool.
“Everything’s
pink!” Kato turned, lost his balance, and knocked over an entire table of
leather goods.
“For the Gods’
sakes!” Griffin muttered. Now there were two of them.
The irate
vendor started grumbling curses, so Griffin handed over some money. Nothing was
broken, and the silver coin would more than pay for the mess.
He turned to
someone who still had his wits intact. “Flynn! Take care of him. Take him back
to the inn. Make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid or kill anyone by
accident.”
“Oh, no!” Cat
sang out in a loud voice. “We mustn’t kill by accident. Only on purpose.”
“My sentiment
exactly.” Griffin gripped her hand and led her away from the growing crowd of
staring people.
Cat giggled.
Carver kept pace behind them.
“Where are we
going?” Cat asked, starting to dance in circles around him. Griffin turned as
well to keep the rope from tangling—not that he’d mind if it drew her right up
against him.
Her hands
suddenly flew up, and she started almost frantically taking apart her braid.
“We have one
more thing to buy,” Griffin answered, wondering if he should help her with
whatever she was doing.
“I knew it!”
She seemed to forget about her now-disheveled hair and clapped, beaming.
“What?”
“A drying
cloth.”
Her face fell.
Griffin knew a drying cloth wasn’t very exciting, but she needed one, so there
was that.
Cat’s head
swiveled around, and she walked off to the right, taking Griffin with her.
Her expression
brightened once more. “A sword! I want a sword. Can I have a sword?”
The way her
eyes glittered when she looked up at him punched a hole of happiness straight
through his ribs. Right then, he knew he could deny her nothing—except the
freedom she wanted most.
“You can’t even
lift a sword.” He followed her toward the table of blades anyway. Maybe the
vendor had something small.
“I can. Watch
me.” She reached for a huge monstrosity of a weapon. It looked big, even to
Griffin’s eyes.
“That’s odd.
Someone must have glued it.” She bent over the sword for a closer look and
ended up hitting her face on it.
Griffin’s heart
spasmed. Was she hurt?
“Ow!” Cat
popped up, rubbing her nose and nearly falling over backward. His hand shot out
to steady her, but this time, she didn’t need him.
She frowned
ferociously at the blood on her fingers, but Griffin breathed a sigh of relief.
The cut was a small thing.
Cat eventually
shrugged and then wiped the red smudge from her hand, laughing again. The euphoria
must still have been strong in her system.
Brushing
flyaway hair out of her face, Griffin leaned in for a closer look. The nick had
already stopped bleeding.
In a move that
startled him, Cat’s hands shot up and gripped his face back. Griffin’s heart stopped
dead in his chest. She held on, her grasp tight at first. Then it loosened, and
she trailed her fingertips down his cheeks.
Heat rushed
through him. He wished he’d shaved for her. He didn’t dare breathe.
“Hmmm.” Her
eyelids seemed to grow heavy, her lashing dipping to shade her beautiful eyes.
“Scratchy.”
Griffin
swallowed hard. Cat was touching him, and circumstances made it so that he
couldn’t reciprocate.
He captured her
hands in his and slowly lowered them. He couldn’t help the light caress he gave
her knuckles. He didn’t do it consciously.
“The cut’s
nothing.” Hardly recognizing his own voice, he released her. If he’d held on to
her much longer, his skin would have caught fire.
With what felt
like an Olympian effort, Griffin turned away from Cat and nodded to a small
blade at the end of the table. The merchant handed it over, and he tested it,
only partially to distract himself. If it wasn’t a quality blade, it wasn’t for
Cat.
The sword
turned out to be sturdy, well-crafted, and straight. “We’ll take it,” he
announced. “And your smallest sword belt with dagger loops.”
Cat looked
thrilled, and Griffin felt his chest expand.
“You’re buying
me a sword? And a belt for my knives?” Grinning, she astonished him by leaping
on him.
Griffin caught
her as her arms and legs clamped around him. His heart thudded hard, his lungs
seized, and his whole body ignited. She felt painfully perfect in his arms.
Unable to
resist, he angled his head toward her and inhaled deeply. Cat smelled like
frosted lemons—fresh and tangy, with a hint of acidity. He loved her bite. He
was fairly certain he loved her.
As he breathed
her in, his chest pressed against hers. The contact was exhilarating. His long,
slow exhale shuddered over her neck, and Cat shivered in his arms.
Breathy
laughter fluttered against his ear. “Ack! That tickles!”
A strained
chuckle was Griffin’s only response.
He forced
himself to unlock his greedy arms from around her and set her back on her feet.
He knew Cat—an undrugged Cat—wouldn’t
want to be in his embrace.
Staying close
to him of her own accord, she smiled up at him in a way she never had before,
like she meant it, rather than like she wanted to chew him up, spit him out,
and then stomp on him until he was good and bloody.
Was this how
things between them could be if she trusted him? If he’d convinced her that night at the circus fair instead of capturing
her?
The thought
made his chest ache, and Griffin cleared his throat, chasing out regret and
need with a gruff sound. He’d figure out a way to win her over. He had to.
“The sword’s
really for me?” Cat asked.
He hadn’t fully
let her go since she hadn’t stepped back, and his fingers pressed lightly into
her sides. “You said you wanted one.”
Cat’s smile
grew brilliant. “In that case, I want two!
One for each hip.”
He chuckled in
spite of everything, imagining it all too well. The problem was, Cat was
dangerous enough already.
“Let’s start
with one,” he answered, drawing her a fraction closer.
Her breath
caught, and it was agony not to lower his head and kiss her.
To avoid
temptation, Griffin turned and paid for the sword.
Cat hopped
along next to him when he began walking again. “Can I have it? Can I? Can I,
please?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“You can have
it when I can trust you.”
She nodded.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” Griffin’s eyebrows flew up in
surprise. “That’s it?”
“What’s it?”
She flapped her hands, swatting at something. “Did you see that?”
He frowned.
“See what?”
“The bee. The
Centaur bee. The pink one.”
Glancing
briefly toward Olympus for guidance—and to keep from laughing—Griffin took
Cat’s hand and led her through the market. It would have been easier if she
hadn’t been dancing—not that he would ever stop her.
When she looked
up at him again, the joy in her eyes almost blinded him. “Thank you.”
Her simple words
punched the air from his lungs. “You’re welcome,” he answered gruffly.
“Not you,” she declared in an exasperated
tone.
Griffin was
content to not comment and watch her dance some more. She stumbled over
Carver’s feet. Quick, as always, his brother helped her back up before he could
reach for her, and Griffin’s hands clenched with the need to steady her
himself.
In thanks for
Carver’s aid, Cat dipped into a deep and graceful curtsy that looked like it
could have been executed in any royal court. He was surprised she managed it so
well, given her current state. The ease with which she moved smacked of years
of practice and raised questions he knew she wouldn’t answer.
Carver bowed
back awkwardly enough to make Cat laugh until she could barely breathe. They weren’t
used to such pomp in the south. Court etiquette was something he and his family
still had to figure out—preferably fast.
Feeling a rush
of worry for his family right now trying to integrate into royal life in Sinta
City without him, Griffin guided Cat toward a table covered in drying cloths.
Cat jumped, trying to catch the hanging ones while he looked through the
selection on the table, suddenly ready to be done with the market in Velos and
get back on the road.
“This one,” he
said, selecting a yellow one about the same shade as Cat’s usual soap. She’d
like that, wouldn’t she? It was almost like having a set.
“Is that for
me?” she asked.
Griffin nodded,
his stomach sinking at how disgusted she looked by his choice.
“Not that one.
It looks like Cerberus threw up on it.” She glanced from side to side. “I want that one!”
She seemed
ecstatic about a flashy red cloth big enough to cover four of her, so he put
the yellow one back and bought the red.
He couldn’t
think of anything else she—or anyone—needed, so Griffin steered Cat back toward
the inn. Without warning, she sat down in the street, yanking the rope tight
between them and pulling him to a sudden stop. Griffin let out a grunt of
surprise.
Cat looked up
at him, her nose scrunching. “Serves you right. You could just untie me. Or let
me go.”
There was the
usual Cat. Her tongue was still sharp, even if her mind was fuzzy. “And miss
all this fun?” he teased.
Her laughter
shook her all over. Griffin smiled back, wishing things could always be this
easy and enjoyable between them. Maybe they would have been if he hadn’t been
such a colossal arse the night they met.
He opened his
mouth to apologize for capturing her, to solemnly ask her forgiveness, for
another chance, for a better them he was
desperate to have, when Cat’s head snapped around, and she jumped up, already
running.
Bollocks! He’d missed
his opportunity. He knew himself; there was a good chance he wouldn’t take it
again. Cat’s barbed tongue could make even him hesitate, and she’d be back to
her normal self soon. And in the end, he wasn’t sorry they were together. He’d
never be sorry for that. Griffin ran after her.
“Where are you
going?” he asked. Carver jogged next to them on Cat’s other side.
She didn’t
answer but then veered off and ran up the steps of a bathhouse, crashing
through the doors and nearly plowing into a couple. She reached for the woman
but then pulled back before Griffin had to intervene. She kept going.
Chortling with
glee, Cat raced toward what Griffin suspected was the men’s pool from the
artwork on the walls. She didn’t seem to notice the increasingly explicit
mosaics lining the corridor.
They arrived at
a tall door that Cat tried unsuccessfully to open. She repeatedly groped for
and missed the very prominent latch.
Griffin reached
around her to open the door, not sure he shouldn’t have been barring the way
instead. “I get the feeling you’ve never been high before.”
She glanced up
at him. “Have you?”
He shook his
head. Never—and he didn’t plan on it.
“Looks like
fun,” Carver chimed in, rather idiotically in Griffin’s opinion. It looked like
a dangerous loss of control to him.
Cat teetered
toward Carver. “Want some? It’s fabulous!”
Carver grinned.
“No thanks. Offering anything else?” he asked so smoothly that Griffin had to
do a double-take before the urge to punch his brother hit him.
Cat laughed,
blushing prettily. Then she sighed. “Don’t flirt.”
“Why not?”
Carver asked, completely ignoring Griffin’s hard stare.
“Don’t you
know? Poseidon sent your incredibly annoying brother to me with an oracular
dream. Once-in-a-lifetime thing. Except for most people. Most people never have
one. Anyway”—she rolled her eyes—“he probably thinks it means something.” She snorted like that was beyond ridiculous when
it was likely the most important thing that had ever happened to him. “I’d
rather eat goat balls. Or goat shit.” She frowned, clearly confused. “Or goat
cheese!” she abruptly shouted.
“Oracular dream?”
Griffin turned the term over in his mind and in his mouth. He hadn’t known what
it was called, or that it occasionally happened to others, but he’d known it
was life-changing. He’d known it meant he was supposed to be with Cat.
“She’s a wealth
of information,” Carver murmured.
“What? Never
heard of one?” Cat shrugged. “I’m hot.” She turned, tripped, and went down
before Griffin could catch her.
He helped her
to her feet again and then followed as she ran straight into the men’s bathing
chamber. Three naked men looked over, startled.
Cat yanked her
tunic over her head.
Griffin’s eyes
widened. “For the Gods’ sakes, Cat!” He wanted to look. He knew he shouldn’t.
Everyone else
needed to get out now.
She kept
stripping, and something roared inside him.
“Out!” he
shouted to the other men. What in the Underworld was he supposed to do? He
couldn’t leave her alone in here. Not looking seemed impossible, especially
when he needed to keep her safe. And because he desperately wanted to.
The need to
protect her, even from himself, battered his chest. At the savage look on his
face, the three men scrambled out of the pool and ran. They averted their gazes
from Cat, obviously knowing what was good for them.
Cat turned back
to him, completely bare. Heat built in his groin and crept through his abdomen.
Griffin wanted to reach for her, to cover her. To cover her with himself. He nearly groaned.
His brother
moved in his peripheral vision. What in the Gods’ names was Carver still doing
here? A growl ground deep in his throat.
Before his
narrowed eyes could snap to Carver, Cat reached up and swept her fingers
through his hair. Her touch was light but sure. There was no hesitation, and
even some gentleness. He wished she would never stop.
She smiled and
patted his head. “Good Beta.”
The growl meant
for Carver turned into a grunted laugh.
“Woof!” she barked
back.
Gods, she was
amazing. And fun. And strong. The knowledge made him grin and hit him square in
the chest—which made his eyes automatically drop to hers.
Griffin froze,
balling his hands into fists to keep from reaching for her.
She flushed.
Her nipples hardened as he watched, and the tension inside him exploded into
something nearly unbearable—hot and urgent. Griffin felt a muscle tick in his
jaw as he clenched his teeth, fighting to tear his eyes away from her. He lost
the battle, and his eyes dipped, sweeping over her. He swallowed hard. He
wanted this woman more than his next breath. But he wanted her to like him first.
“Untie me or
get in.” Cat’s throaty whisper, her invitation, nearly brought him to his
knees.
Griffin stepped
closer to hide her nakedness from Carver. He didn’t watch Carver leave the
room, but he did watch Cat blow his brother a kiss, and Griffin practically saw
red. He’d never felt so barbarically possessive in his life.
Finally alone
with her, Griffin lifted his eyes to Cat’s. “Give me your binding word you
won’t leave without me.”
“All right,”
she agreed.
Could it be that easy? “Say it,” he insisted.
She rolled her
eyes with extra exuberance and then bowed dramatically. “I won’t leave the
bathing chamber without you, O Imperious One.”
It was hard not
to laugh. His ire deflated instantly. Cat was his only concern.
Griffin untied
the rope, trying to keep his hands to himself. He accidentally brushed Cat’s
waist at one point, though, and his fingers almost caught fire. His whole body
tightened with the need to claim Cat for his own.
The instant she
was free of the rope, Cat turned and dove into the pool. She stayed underwater
for so long that Griffin started to get anxious. He realized he shouldn’t have
worried when she popped up a moment later, whooping and laughing.
She swam
forever, and Griffin couldn’t do anything but watch and make sure she didn’t
hurt herself. She played, frolicking in a way that made him long to join her.
But she wouldn’t like that. She might like it now—she’d even splashed him and tried to coax him in—but she
wouldn’t like it later. He wouldn’t make the inevitable end of her fun worse by
joining her and giving her something more to regret from today.
Besides, how
would he keep from touching her? From showing her how hot he burned for her? If
he got in, the whole damn pool might evaporate just from the fire inside him.
Another long
hour of torture later, Griffin pulled up short. He saw the exact moment Cat’s
high burned itself out and fatigue and reality came crashing back to take its
place.
She gasped,
paling to near-translucent. She started to sink.
Griffin stepped
forward, but then she seemed to recover enough to float. He hesitated. He
wanted to help her, but she probably wouldn’t want him touching her.
Cat’s face went
from white to red so fast it was blinding. She bowed her head, looking
defeated, and Griffin’s heart clenched hard.
“That’s why
addicts stay high,” he said softly. “It’s too awful when it ends.”
She sniffed but
didn’t look up.
“Come.”
Dropping his gaze to the marble floor, Griffin held out her new drying cloth.
It was more than big enough to cover her up and warm her.
He didn’t look
directly at Cat, but he could still tell that she crawled up the steps,
shaking, shivering, and almost too weak to make it to the cloth he held.
Griffin was going to hand it to her, but then she just oozed into the material
and waited. He wrapped it around her and began gently patting her dry.
“Why did you
take it?” he asked when she closed her eyes, looking mortified, weary, and
utterly alone.
Right then,
Griffin wished more than ever that he’d earned the right to take her into his
arms and comfort her. But he hadn’t, so he wrapped the cloth more firmly around
her instead. She trembled.
“The magic
wanted to be inside me.” She spoke so softly he barely heard. “I couldn’t
control it. I-I didn’t even try.”
Was it just his
imagination, or had Cat leaned into him?
He cleared his
throat.
“It wasn’t his
magic. It was a spell.” Griffin straightened, wanting a better look at her.
Pale face. Grey lips. Blank eyes. The sight of her made his chest ache.
“It doesn’t
matter.” She slumped, hardly even upright. “It’s the same to me.”
Not knowing
what else to do, Griffin made sure the cloth was secure around her before
trying to guide her toward her clothes. “Let’s go.”
Instead of
walking, Cat dropped to the floor and curled up in a ball.
Watching her,
Griffin’s gut sank. He’d put her in a position where she’d felt compelled to steal
unknown magic, undoubtedly to help her escape. Now she was sick and miserable,
and it was in good part his fault. No wonder she hated him.
Griffin
gathered their belongings and then carefully picked Cat up off the floor. She
surprised him by not protesting. She even rested her wet head on his shoulder,
her breath a sweet warmth against his neck. He cradled her against him. He’d
build trust one heartbeat at a time if he had to.
“You never
smell bad,” she murmured, barely forming words around her fatigue.
“Should I?”
Griffin asked.
“It would make
you mortal, like the rest of us.”
“I am mortal.
That’s why I need—”
“—your help,”
she finished with a sigh.
“This isn’t a
game, Cat.”
“Just leave me
here,” she said despondently. “You can’t carry me all the way back.”
Griffin
grunted. That was absurd—in more ways than one. “And leave behind my most
valued treasure?”
She hesitated.
Her breath seemed to catch. “I won’t be used.”
Ah, the usual rhetoric. He smiled vaguely. Was she coming back to herself?
“Egeria will
win you over,” he said. And he would, too.
She yawned,
bringing the tip of her nose into contact with his neck. He wished she’d let
herself come even closer, thought maybe a small part of her even wanted to, but
suddenly she stiffened in his arms.
“It won’t get
that far.” Those five words were sharper than anything she’d said in hours.
Griffin’s mouth
flattened. And so it began again. “You’re wrong. You’re wrong about a lot of
things.” And somehow, someday, he would prove it.
“I bled on that
sword and didn’t dilute it.” The panic in Cat’s voice shot tension through his
body. “They’ll track my blood. It’s been hours. They’re already on their way.”
“Who?” he
demanded.
Wilting again,
she yawned, exhaustion seeming to drown her fear. “It’s your fault. You exposed
me.”
Griffin held
her tighter, his heart hammering out adrenaline-laced beats. “I’ll protect
you.”
She closed her
eyes, looking alarmingly weak. Almost unconscious. “You could try,” she
whispered just before her head lolled, and her body went limp in his arms.
Grim-faced,
Griffin carried her toward the inn. He had to do better than try. The fate of
Thalyria and both of their futures depended upon it.
Meet the Author:
USA Today bestselling author AMANDA BOUCHET grew up in New England and studied French at the undergraduate and graduate levels, first at Bowdoin College and then at Bowling Green State University. She moved to Paris, France, in 2001 and has been there ever since. She met her husband while studying abroad, and the family now includes two bilingual children, who will soon be correcting her French. Connect with her at www.amandabouchet.com.
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