Page 27 of Griffin Undone
I stalked closer. Sun didn’t give ground, but neither did he challenge my fury. Head down, he waited as I leaned in, speaking right into his ear. “Maddox isn’t just coming for my family now. He’s coming for your entire clan. And you know what? They—and you—deserve whatever you get. Good luck.” I straightened. Shrugged like their fate didn’t mean anything to me. “Or not. Hope you can live with yourself,brother.”
Leaving Sun in the alley, I went inside. My griffin trembled with fury, gnashing and clawing to get back to Sun, to deliver the justice we both knew we needed, but I refused to give in. Instead I beelined for the one thing I knew would calm my animal: the female.
In seconds I was crossing the space to get to the back room and Kat’s sleeping form. Grim stepped to the door of the kitchen, sandwich in hand.
“How long will she sleep?”
“Awhile yet,” he said, not commenting on my obvious agitation. “She’ll need to eat when she wakes, get some nutrients in her. I fed her blood again, but it won’t be enough; she’ll need to feed at least once more. After that, she’ll be ready to move.”
I fed her blood.
If my animal had been angry before, now he threatened to go supernova.He fed her, not us.The image of Grim, Kat sucking at his wrist, his throat, had my griffin pounding behind my breastbone to get free.
I wrangled him in—barely. “Fine,” I growled.
Grim’s retreat back to the kitchen registered only dimly as I entered Kat’s room. I strode to the side of the bed, my stare fixed on her huddled beneath the blanket. Her deep auburn hair fanned out over the white pillowcase, spilling like fire around her pale face. My mind went back to the moment when I’d pictured her beneath me, the feel of her, the heat of pure, unadulterated lust flashing through my soul. I’d enjoyed Risk, very much, but never had I felt the kind of intensity Kat’s image alone conjured inside me. Even now my cock tightened, quick and hard.
It was dangerous. Foolhardy.
And maybe, just maybe, something whispered inside me, it was inevitable.
I remained frozen, watching the female breathe for a long time. My griffin rose just beneath my skin, the two of us staring from the same eyes, branding our possession on her. Breathing in her scent. My fangs slowly descended, my need to mark her pushing hard at me.
When I could hold back no longer, I leaned down, put my lips to that silken fall of hair, and whispered, the words barely more than a sigh, “You’re mine. Don’t make the mistake of forgetting it.”
A soft sigh answered me, surrounded me, drew me, but before it could take hold, before my need could break the chain barely holding me back, I turned and left the room.
ChapterThirteen
Kat
When I woke, it was like a light switch flipping on. One moment there was nothing, and the next, everything I’d heard, everything I’d seen slammed into my consciousness with such force I had to bite back a wave of nausea. Or maybe that was the headache. I couldn’t be sure; the bass drum in my head made thinking too hard. I did realize after a few moments that I wanted to sit up, that Icouldsit up, and I did, bracing a hand on the covers to hold myself still until the room and my stomach settled into something reasonably stable. Then I took stock.
A quick glance didn’t reveal much: A dark, gloomy room. Clothes…yeah, clothes were on. Very important. A different bed than before, I was pretty sure, even if the time between my attack and now remained foggy as hell. Unlike the previous lumpy, narrow version, this bed was wide, soft, and comfortable.
I was alone. Was that a good thing or a bad thing?
Where was I?
My choppy breath sounded loud in the otherwise silent room. Throwing the covers back, I scooted to the edge of the mattress, the cool air painting goose bumps across my bare thighs. My legs shook as I put my weight on them. God, I felt even worse than that Christmas I had pneumonia, my junior year of high school. I remembered sitting in front of the dirty window in the room I shared with four other girls, looking out over the empty backyard of the group home, frigid air my only comfort as it seeped between the cracks and through my nightgown as my fever peaked and finally broke. I’d felt as wobbly as a newborn colt that night, alone, everyone including the housemother asleep and oblivious.
But now that colt could barely stand. And as I came upright, the pressure of a full bladder only added to the miserableness.
An awkward shuffle got me across the room and through one of two visible doors. The sight of a full bathroom caused me to sag against the doorjamb in relief, then hurry as fast as I could into the smaller space.
After taking care of my bladder, I hobbled to the sink and turned on the water. An automatic glance up brought a gasp to my lips. My skin was ghastly, ghostly pale, death before the warmed-over part. My hair tangled in knots around my head, and a palm-sized bandage covered one side of my neck.
The bite.
Closing my eyes against flashes of memory that made my empty stomach roll, I focused instead on washing my hands, then cupped handfuls of the cool water and splashed my face. It stung my skin, including the rough, raw patches that circled each wrist like a bracelet. I refused to think about their cause, instead digging my wet hands through my matted hair until a bare minimum of order was achieved. Then I dried off and hobbled back to the bedroom.
As I climbed back onto the bed, the second door in the room squeaked open. A hasty scramble brought the blankets up over my breasts before a man entered, tray in hand.
Arik.My fingers twitched, searching for the soft fur of his feathers. I buried them into the abundance of soft covers instead as he crossed the room, and forced my focus to the tray Arik carried and the aroma of hot food that dragged a needy growl from my stomach.
“Hungry?” Arik asked, a grin playing around his lips.
I had to clear my throat to get my answer out. “Yes. Very.”
