Page 92 of Crown of Tides and Fury

I ran for the next line of trees, but I heard a whoosh and glanced back. “That’s cheating!” He covered the distance between us with his wings spread, his feet dangling above the ground.

I tripped and went down, but he caught my arm and eased my fall. The wings disappeared again, and he was just a man half-covering me, his cheeks creased with a smug smile.

“There are no rules, Lennon. There is no cheating.” A mere foot separated our faces, but he made no move to kiss me. And I was glad. This wasn’t my Griffon.

“Yeah? Well, there’s dishonor, though, in taking advantage—”

“Why am I an idiot? Or did you only mean to taunt me because you were weary of running?”

“You’re an idiot if you think anyone is going to trade Wickham for me.”

He ran a finger along my face. “You underestimate your value to him.”

“No, I don’t. If he cared at all, he would have come back for me. No matter what happened, he would have come right back—”

“Maybe his wife saw her opportunity to be rid of you.”

“She wouldn’t—”

“When you dally with a married man…”

I laughed in his face. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. I was a mistake. I was brought into this by mistake. Now I’m just…baggage. Maybe you can trade me for…an Amazon gift card—twenty-five bucks if you’re lucky.”

He rolled his eyes and pushed himself up, dusted leaves off his pants, and offered me his hand. Since there was no escaping him, and Wickham wasn’t coming, I took it.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t go with you.”

His grip on my hand tightened. “Why?”

“Because…because the chef has made croissants for tea, and it’s my favorite. Maybe you can come back tomorrow.”

Those massive, russet and gold wings unfurled as he yanked me into his arms. He jammed his wad of clothing between our shoulders and stared at my lips for a long second. His nostrils flared like he was pissed to have noticed them. Then the first downbeat of his wings took my feet off the ground and the moment was gone.

I cursed him in a whisper. He laughed. I wrapped an arm around his neck and tucked the side of my face against his chest, telling myself I was just protecting my head, knowing I was about to pass out.

From far below, I heard a roar of familiar voices.

“No!”

34

A One Star Plan

Wind blew against my wet face and hands, and the chill startled me awake. I lay across Griffon’s arms staring at the metal-gray sky that fell away quickly as we descended. Those majestic, impossible wings were folded slightly and controlled the air rushing under us. My stomach clenched and held, waiting for the rollercoaster drop to end.

Had we been flying through the rain?

Looking down would only make me pass out again, so I closed my eyes and trusted that this powerful flying creature knew what he was doing. I didn’t dare wrap my arm around him for fear I might restrict his movement.

Finally, those wings opened again and slowed our fall. Over my knees I caught a glimpse of a stormy sea and prayed he wasn’t about to drop me into it. To my right, a large structure of chunky gray—a castle—came into focus and allayed that fear.

Griffon’s arms tightened just before his feet hit the ground, but he didn’t put me down as I expected. Instead, he carried me swiftly toward the building. When fat raindrops splatted on my face, I realized why. The downpour caught us just a few yards shy of the entrance, and we were simultaneously drenched and swallowed by darkness. He laughed darkly, to himself, sending a rumble through his chest and into my bones.

Once upon a time, making him smile had been a dopamine rush. Making him laugh, ecstasy. Winning a kiss had been the only victory I’d needed.

He seemed to have no problem adjusting his eyes to the shadows and hurried through the narrow hall without banging my head or feet on the walls. The deeper we went, the darker it got, and the scent of the ocean faded, replaced by that of must and wet rocks.

Angry rain pelted the ancient castle and the shushing sound followed us through a doorway, which turned out to be a spiral staircase. The moment I realized we were headed down, not up, was the moment my fight or flight instincts went into overdrive. I kicked my legs and tried to wiggle out of his grip. He only held me tighter.

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