Page 21 of My Guardian Gryphon

“Just gave you a little pixie-upper. We can’t have the town sheriff down in the dumps with Djinn knocking at our gates every few days and his personal rat-bastard Lycans stirring up trouble. People in this town depend on you two be in tip-top shape.” She looked up at me, her hands propped on her little waist and smiled a smile that said too-bad-mister-you’ve-got-to-deal-with-your-shit-right-now-no-ifs-ands-or-buts-about-it.

My hands fisted at my sides, and I held in the growl rumbling in my chest. The pixie magick coursed through me like a firestorm, focusing my brain and my body on the one thing—the one person—who would truly lift my spirit. I’d been avoiding speaking or talking to her, and now the damn pixie had eliminated my resolve to stay away. Fuck.

I rolled my neck and grimaced, refusing to cuss out the fairy who’d stuck her nose way too far into my business.

“Raven, seriously, you can’t do shit like this.” Jared stood next to me. “Bro, you okay?”

“He needed it. The pixie dust was for helping solve a problem. It will be fine.”

“It won’t be fucking fine.” Jared’s snarl attracted the attention of most of the dining hall.

I didn’t need more of an audience. “I have to go.”

Jared lasered his gaze in on me with a look that screamed don’t-you-dare, but it was too late, I was already walking past him toward the door. Ducking my head, I slipped out under the annoying tinkle of that damn bell and cut across the circle. The castle loomed before me.

Maybe, just maybe she’d give me a chance to explain. Somehow I had to get things back to normal—whatever that really meant. I knew I could never be with her, but I needed her in my life. Even if it was just reading books and talking every afternoon like we had for the past fifteen years. Her presence. Her touch. Her scent. Her friendship.

It could be enough.

It had to be enough.

The entrance to the castle loomed ahead, large and strong and defiant, reminding me what I was about to do was stupid. I was crazy to think I could maintain status quo with Gretchen—if she would even agree to see me again, but it was all I had to look forward to, other than babysitting this town from the occasional Lycan brawl.

“Alek.” Jared’s voice boomed from across the street.

I ignored him and placed a hand on the middle panel of the heavy eight-foot door, waited for the spell to lift, shoved it open, and stepped into the castle foyer. The beam was only put into place at night. During the day, a magickal spell locked the door from anyone who wasn’t on the approved entry list.

If someone did try to enter without permission, the spell would give them a zap of magickal energy they’d have a hard time recovering from. One of Xerxes’ Lycans had snuck into town and tried it a week ago. Besides burning over fifty percent of his body, it’d completely knocked him unconscious. Rose had tried to interrogate him, but he’d been too far gone. Mikjáll turning him to ash had been a kindness.

My heavy boots thumped across the polished marble floors. Grabbing the ornate railing of one side of the double staircase, I took the steps two at a time. The closer I got, the more powerful the pull.

Gods, I missed her. Until I’d kept away for a week, I’d not realized just how much I’d already bonded to her. I didn’t know a lot about my Gryphon magick, Jared and I had both been teenagers when my father had shoved us through the open portal and said more of the family would follow behind us.

We’d waited at the entrance for nearly a week before hunger had forced us to hunt. Even then we returned to the ring of stones every day for months. No adults ever came through.

Jared and I weren’t the only ones waiting or the only ones grieving, but we’d been the only ones that stuck together. The rest of the random supernatural teenagers from the cities of Rekar and Resar—saved from slaughter—vanished to the four corners of the world. I never saw them again.

I turned a corner, not surprised that the second-floor hallway was quiet. The Drakonae were all in the cafe, except Mikjáll. I hadn’t seen him and his Kitsune rescues lately. Riza and her baby were always at his side. Sochi, Riza’s sister, had remained a little more aloof from the town.

The younger Kitsune was also pregnant and grieving through the separation from her first child, who still remained in Xerxes’ clutches. Rose was devising a plan to get the baby back, but so far we’d been unable to gather intelligence on where he’d moved his base of operations. Until a location was determined, there was nothing to be done. Our only salvation was in knowing that he needed the baby alive.

I stopped for a moment to admire van Gogh’s The Starry Night. How those sneaky Blackmoor’s had gotten their hands on it before the Riots tore through New York was beyond me, but they had.

It and many of its companions from the Modern Art Museum had found their way into a hall of this castle fortress. The stone floors were covered in Persian carpets, and the walls were draped in tapestries that looked like they’d been lifted from Camelot itself, and more paintings. They had so many paintings. It was like walking through a palace. So much history. So much wealth.

We’d all accumulated much through the millennia, but the Drakonae had a special penchant for art and history.

I pushed open one of the library’s French doors and slipped quietly inside. A soft heartbeat thudded in the back of the room, steady and familiar. My footsteps were silent on the carpets lining the floor. Reaching the end of the first row of shelves, I peered around the corner and spied Gretchen curled up on a love seat in one of the reading alcoves.

Black lashes lay against her creamy white skin. A few strands of her silky black hair trailed across a cheek. I squatted on my heels beside her and used the tip of my finger to tuck it behind her ear. Then my gaze dropped to the gap at the top of her dress, where just enough cleavage showed to make my blood rise a few degrees. The dress she wore was thin and white, and how, by the gods, had I been so blind to her beauty? She’d spent hours almost every afternoon at my side.

Her heartbeat sped up, and her breathing hitched. Blue eyes appeared, bright and wide and filled with surprise. I’d scared her. My face was barely a foot from hers, and I was staring at her like a lion ready to pounce.

Instead, she pounced on me, wrapping her arms around my neck and pressing her velvety soft lips against mine. Shock paralyzed my body for a split second before instinct drew my arms around her torso, tugging her from the loveseat flush to my chest. My balance wavered, and I tipped from my heels, landing on my ass with a thud. Still our mouths explored each other’s.

I dared to inhale as her fragrant scent twisted and spun around me, promising everything I’d ever desired—at least the illusion of it.

Her fingers slipped from my neck up into my hair, and a moan laced with need and frustration and a hint of simmering anger rose to the surface.

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