Page 10 of My Guardian Gryphon

Claws grew from my fingers, and my body contracted and released. Muscles tightened and bulged. I roared. The change coursed through me like a lightning bolt, searing every cell with fire. The transformation took a few moments, shifting me from human to the size of a jumbo-jet with four sequoia-sized legs, talons the size of a man, wings that spanned the entire breadth of the hanger, and the head of a human mixed with features of a lion.

I snapped my teeth once, enjoying the terror I finally witnessed filling the eyes of the man who’d thrown the knife. He still didn’t run. Instead, he fell to his knees, accepting his fate. I roared again, my power and form shaking the building to its foundation.

Lifting a paw, I pressed it down against the man’s body, taking pleasure while listening to his bones snap like toothpicks. I continued ripping him apart with my claws until there was nothing left but the tattered remnants of flesh and bone.

I turned toward the fifty chained to the floor on my right. These men would know me as their god—all of them, humans and supernaturals alike. I would rule this entire country. Even if it meant killing every human on the face of its shores.

I would then move on to the rest of the continent before the rest of the Earth.

Taking a deep breath, I pulled the Lamassu back. My form shifted again. My wings tucked away, disappearing into my back. My legs and torso changed to human again, and I stood upright, waiting on my arms and hands to complete the shift.

My vision was still blue, and my voice bellowed through the hanger like I was wearing a personal megaphone. “Please, feel free to insult me again. I would take much pleasure in ripping you to pieces for your insolence or watching my man gut you with his blade.”

I turned to face Martin. “Perhaps we should scrap this entire group and start fresh? I’m feeling hungry.”

All fifty of the chained souls dropped to their knees, then prostrated themselves, pressing their faces against the grimy concrete floor.

Master. The name echoed softly through the hanger like dry leaves rustling in an autumn breeze. Even the Lycan soldiers were chanting along with the human prisoners.

Master.

Master.

Master.

Chapter 4

GRETCHEN

I looked up from the pages of my treasured copy of Little Women, a birthday present from Alek years ago. Rose Hilah herself and the Oracle—head Sister of the House—were both headed straight for me from the far side of the room.

Last night had gone about as expected. Men came. All the Sisters chose, except me. They all went off and had sex while I hid in the corner, doing my damnedest to blend into the potted plants along the gray stone wall of the foyer until I could sneak off to my room.

Hiding had worked for the past three years. That and faking illness. I was a master at always not being where I was supposed to be when the buses of volunteer human man-flesh arrived twice a month to fulfill the Sister’s need to procreate.

“Gretchen,” the Oracle spoke first. Her light tone mixed with disapproval sent a chill of despair merrily skipping its way into the bottom of my stomach.

I put down my book and sat up a little straighter, hoping if I met them head-on the outcome might not be quite as terrible. Destiny or not, this was my life. “How can I help you?” I asked, hoping the shake in my voice wasn’t as evident as it sounded from inside my head.

Rose took up residence in an armchair across from me while the Oracle sat down on the edge of the massive coffee table, her knees inches from mine. The fluorescent lights hummed, revealing to me how quiet the entire room had suddenly become. A brooding anxiousness filled my mind, and I rubbed my damp palms over the fabric of my skirt.

Everyone had left.

The Sisters who’d been working a puzzle in the corner. Gone.

The Sister who’d been playing the piano. Gone.

No one supported me. No one felt sorry for me. Most of them thought I was rebellious or selfish or just crazy.

“We were hoping we could help you. It has come to my attention that you are not participating in the joinings. Are you ill? Is something wrong? Did something happen that wasn’t reported?”

A plethora of lies leapt to the tip of me tongue, but the one that came out was the one I told the most often. “I haven’t been feeling well.” It was true in the moment for sure. My stomach was doing acrobatic flips and threatening to send up everything I’d eaten thus far today in a spewing volcanic display.

“Why are you lying, Gretchen?” Rose asked, her tone as even and as hard as the steel that plated the heavy door guarding the Sister’s basement living quarters.

Of course the all-knowing-heartbeat-reading-Sentinel-of-Sanctuary would know I’d just lied. My racing pulse was probably like a giant red checkered flag waving around in the air. I might as well just get up and scream, Hey, look at me. I’m lying through my teeth. Why did I even try? Every supernatural in this town was a walking-talking-breathing-lie-detector.

“I didn’t want any of them. They didn’t appeal to me, and you can’t force me to have sex.” Shit. Had I just told Rose and the Oracle to shove it?

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