Page 28 of My Guardian Gryphon

Miles clucked his tongue and pulled me close, enveloping me in a very warm but comforting embrace. “Shh, little one, we will talk to Rose. Your Oracle is elected to represent the House, but she can’t dictate your life or Alek’s. Rest assured, the old battle-scarred Gryphon can hold his own.”

Everything was ruined. Not only had Alek rejected me personally, but now Rose would make sure he never forgot who had ruined his life. “He’s going to hate me.” I pulled away from Miles, my body still shaking and tears streaming down my face.

“I doubt that. Alek’s hatred is reserved for those who separated him from his family.” Miles waved toward the other end of the hall. I’d never been in that direction—toward the dragon’s personal chambers. “I’m going to leave you in my office while I go find everyone necessary to clear up this mess.”

“I don’t see how it will be fixed…”—I spoke, my words drawing out like honey dripping from a spoon—“by talking.”

A chuckle rolled out from Miles’ chest. “You never know until you try. I need you to feel comfortable in your home. Astrid’s not the first to harass you about the joinings.”

“How do—”

He pointed to his ears. “Good hearing.” A smile warmed his usually-intimidating face, and I couldn’t help but smile back. “Have a seat. Couch is comfy. Help yourself to any of the books. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure, little one.” He gave a half-bow and exited the grand office, leaving me to explore his personal space. An oversized mahogany captain’s desk guarded a wall of bookshelves overflowing with well-worn books I’d never seen but I didn’t care about that right now. Right now that same sick feeling crept into the pit of my stomach as I’d had when Alek left me in the library a week ago.

I climbed into the window seat and stared out over the wall at the town. A few people crisscrossed through the streets. Several stood in front of Rose’s Cafe across the circle, laughing and carrying on with each other. Just last week, I’d overheard Eli and Miles discussing the death of a Lycan who’d been murdered in the street.

Another life taken while I and my Sisters remained safe and secure behind a wall of stone and solitude. A few minutes later, I saw Miles and Eli both cross the street and enter the Cafe, ducking their heads to fit through the door.

Time stood still while I waited for them to re-emerge. I caught myself tapping a rhythm on the window, stopped, and closed my eyes, playing through the scenarios of what would be said when Rose got here. I’d never been so glad to have the Blackmoor Drakonae brothers on my side.

“Father, I need to—” Mikjáll Blackmoor burst into the office, snapping his mouth shut when he saw me.

I pulled my legs up to my chest and curled into the corner of the window as tightly as I could manage. “He’s in the cafe. They are, I mean—”

Mikjáll’s features softened from their surprised state, and he nodded. “Thank you, miss. Are you well? Can I help you?”

I scoffed and shook my head. “Unless you can make me a dragon. That might solve one of my problems.” If I was a supernatural—something, anything besides a Sister of Lamidae—Alek would’ve given us a chance. He wouldn’t have put me back on the shelf in the library, like a book he knew he’d never have time to read again.

“I’m afraid I can’t manage that request, but I’m sure my fathers will make sure whatever plagues you is taken care of. They take their guardianship of you ladies very seriously.”

“What do you think of Sanctuary?” Perhaps I could distract my mind from its self-terrorizing thoughts. I’d never had the chance to speak to the Blackmoor’s son before. He’d only been in Sanctuary a short time, arriving shortly after Diana, their mate and his mother, had returned. Both had escaped the Veil.

And from what I’d discerned from Diana, neither was keen to remain in Sanctuary longer than necessary. Diana said she wished she could raise her babies in the snowy mountains of her homeland. She wanted them to know the freedom of flight, to not be ashamed or afraid or hide what they were from the world.

“I think it is a world very different from my home.”

“It is not your home now?”

He shook his head. “We will go home soon.”

“What makes you say that? There is no way through the portal without fulfilling the prophecy.”

“Things are not always as they seem.”

Again with the vagueness. He and his mother both acted like the prophecy wasn’t the end-game for all of this. The town. The House of Lamidae. The war with Xerxes.

“I’m sick of that.”

His eyes widened, and the corners of his mouth turned upward, the start of a handsome smile.

“I wish people would just say what they mean.”

“People say that, but it rarely helps diffuse situations.”

“There wouldn’t be situations if people were up-front from the beginning.”

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