Page 101 of Essence of the Throne

I bare my teeth in what might generously be called a smile. “Watch me.”

Chapter Thirty-One

Ariella

Ishove Caspian into my room, slamming the door behind us as Gavriel flings it open again. I scowl, but wait for him to close it, my fingers flying through the motions of setting wards—I don’t care who sees anymore. The king announced my abilities to everyone, anyway.

But then I remember the king is dead, and it would waste energy I don't have to weave wards right now.

“How are you so calm?” Caspian asks, running a hand through his disheveled hair. The usually pristine strands stick up at odd angles, and I hate how endearing it looks.

“Because panicking won’t help anything.” I stride to my wardrobe, yanking it open to grab my blade gifted from the Seer, lifting away the griffin egg I’ve kept hidden since the trials. I'm about to speak when the egg jerks in my hands, almost slipping through my fingers. What the fuck? I jump back, throwing the damn thing on my bed, watching as hairline cracks spider across its metallic surface.

“Ariella…” Caspian moves closer, his eyes wide. “Is that…moving?”

Another crack appears, this one deeper than the others. “It’s hatching.” The words come out barely above a whisper. I knew I had a feeling that keeping the egg safe was important. There was never any indication that something grew inside, but fuck me, it’s hatching.

The mother knew. That’s why she let me live—though why she would ever trust me with her child, I’m not sure. Definitely the worst decision she’s ever made.

A small piece of shell falls away, revealing something dark underneath. My breath catches as more fragments break off, scattering across my bedding. Dropping to my knees at the edge, I watch with pure awe as a tiny beak pushes through, followed by a head covered in obsidian feathers that shimmer with hints of deep purple.

“By the Angel,” Caspian breathes, shifting to stand beside me. His leg brushes mine as we watch the baby griffin struggle free of its shell.

It’s nothing like its mother. Where she is pure white and sharp edges, this little one is darkness incarnate. Its feathers seem to absorb the surrounding light, creating an effect similar to my shadows. Bright violet eyes blink up at us as it shakes off the last bits of shell.

When my jaw dropped, I’m not sure, but this has to be the most incredible thing I’ve ever witnessed.

The baby chirps, the sound so innocent that my chest actually aches. It stumbles on unsteady legs, wings spreading for balance.The wingspan is impressive even at this size—easily as wide as my outstretched arms would be.

“She’s beautiful,” I murmur, unable to stop myself from reaching toward her. A knowing deep inside tells me she’s female. The griffin watches my hand approach, tilting her head in a way that reminds me so much of the mother. When my fingers connect with the soft feathers on her head, a jolt of…something…races through me.

Protection. Care. Trust.

Mine.

The overpowering feelings aren’t my own, but they flood my system, anyway. The baby leans into my touch, making that sweet chirping sound again.

“I think she likes you,” Caspian observes with a warm smile. He reaches out as well, but the griffin hisses and backs away, tumbling off the bed in her lack of coordination. I catch her before she can fall, and the large creature burrows against my chest.

I can’t help but laugh. “Seems she inherited her mother’s attitude.”

He rolls his eyes but smiles once more. “I’ll win my way into her good graces, eventually.” His expression sobers as he studies the baby griffin. “What are we going to do with her? We can’t take a baby griffin with us while we hunt for artifacts.”

The griffin’s head snaps up at that, her piercing eyes finding mine. Another wave of foreign emotions drifts through me—determination and…purpose? She pushes from my chest to sit straighter, wings extending to their full span.

Incredible.

“I don’t think we have a choice,” I respond, watching as she preens her feathers. “Besides, I will do whatever the fuck I want. And I say the griffin can go where she pleases.”

The ground trembles again, but it’s gentler this time, as if the realm’s power is saying goodbye. Through my window, I can still see the massive crack in the sky, but the earlier chaos seems to have settled. I have a feeling this is not the last of the realms’ tricks, though.

I glance down at the griffin. She fits in my arms like she was made to be held by them—probably just for the next hour if she will be anything close to her mother’s size.

Her feathers shift in the light, appearing iridescent. She chirps and hops onto my shoulder, careful to keep her talons from piercing my skin—smart little thing already. The weight is substantial but not uncomfortable. Her wings brush against my hair as she settles into position, and I swear she looks proud of herself.

“You should take her outside where her kind belongs.” My eyes roll at Gavriel’s not-shocking choice of words. But the creature on my shoulder stiffens, clicking in the guard’s direction.

“Can she understand what we’re saying?” Caspian asks, his brows furrowed.

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