Page 3 of Enticing Monsters

But definitely not weak.

Especially not as weak as the fool currently staggering to his feet in a puffed-up attempt at fake bravery. I could escape her hold if I wanted to, have the pair of us dance, but I don’t desire that. And this bastard is distracting me from my time with her.

I glare at the bitching, blubbering bird, a snicker slipping through my lips at my mental alliteration. The things that amuse me…

“I told her you didn’t do anything tome.” I draw out the final word for emphasis, as well as for the way it makes her knife vibrate against my throat, leaving lovely little scrapes in its path.

If she keeps this up, I’ll come in my jeans without her even touching me with more than that blade of hers. For the briefest of moments, I am distracted by the idea of her kneeling at my feet, her blade in her hand, my fingers in her hair as I guide her across my cock, but I shake the image away.

Not now.

Soon.

But not now.

“Not doing anything to me is a far cry from being innocent, you moronic bird,” I continue.

Sera’s hold on me loosens, and she shifts her weight away from me, her focus more on the male across the clearing.

Jealousy roars through my system, and I have to swallow hard to press it down. I don’t like her attention on others. Her other mates? I can deal with that. Not happily—I’ll be the first to slice them from crown to groin if they hurt her—but as long as she cares for them, I know hurting them would hurt her.

Not to mention weaken her.

But the thought of her with anyone else…

It makes me stabby.

Very, very stabby.

“He hurt someone else?” A thread of darkness runs through her words, and a smirk twists the corner of my mouth as the bird’s eyes widen, every instinct his griffin holds probably screaming at him that another predator has entered the game.

My kitten is so pretty when she is killing.

Running feet sound through the trees, and I pout. Who the hell is interrupting us now? Whoever they are is far from graceful or stealthy, the snapping of branches, trampling of undergrowth, and panting breaths a clear beacon.

“Foster?” Sera asks, the question clear in her voice as she steps up beside me.

She studies the boy who is mussed and mildly bloodied, a long scratch across his cheek, though, like me, part of her attention remains on the griffin shifter whose healing has finally started to kick in.

“How. Do. You. Run. Like. That?” His chest heaves as he bends over and places his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath even as he studies the clearing, taking in every aspect.

His glasses are crooked on his nose, and it seems as if one lens may be cracked. His red hair is soaked with sweat and stuck to the top of his head, highlighting the color the run must have put in his cheeks.

“You’re joining her in the gym,” I tell him, the words slipping from my lips before I really consider them. I pause and then nod, certainty washing over me. “You and all of the others. You need it.”

“Vagina!” Sera scolds, whirling on me with a scowl. “Apologize!” She turns back to her other mate, hurrying over to him as he winces at what appears to be a cramp in his leg. “Ignore him. You’re fine.”

“And if I wasn’t here…” I begin, kicking a rock at my feet up into the air like a Hacky Sack and pelting it at the griffin shifter as he tries to sneak away in the confusion.

It nails him in the back of the head, sending him to the ground in a moaning heap.

At that speed, I’ve likely fractured his skull.

Good.

I step towards Foster and Sera, my head cocking to the side as I study them, really considering it. “If you were incapacitated and I wasn’t here, could he help you right now? Could he watch out for his own life while you were distracted in another fight? Could he keep up if you had to run from danger?”

Foster winces with every word, even as Sera whirls on me, her hands fisting.

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