Page 87 of The Demon's Pet

“Here, pretend I’m doing it and show me.” Griffin reached out toward me, and lightning fast, out of pure rage, I grabbed his arm, moved my hips quickly in front of his, and hinged downward, sending him flying over my head.

He went crashing into the dirt, sprawling on his back in shock, and sliding a few feet before stopping against a tree, where he let out a grunt of pain. “Okay, you’re strong.” He pushed himself up, brushed himself off, and put up both his hands in a placating gesture. “My bad. I should have asked if you could fight first.”

My chest was heaving from the throw. “It’s almost like you don’t know I was stoned because I kicked the alpha’s son in the crotch. And I fought every alpha who tried to assault or degrade me every year since I hit puberty. I took martial arts but then got kicked out for being an omega. But I kept practicing by myself. I’m strong. I could beat almost every alpha who attacked me. I could stop them, even if I wasn’t allowed to attack harder. The only thing that stopped me from hurting them more was the knowledge that there were always more alphas, and more wolves backing alphas, and always more punishment waiting. Always too many against one. No one to help me.” I finished, panting, and Griffin stared at me with eyes that were glistening in the low light.

He came forward and pulled me into a hug, and I didn’t realize I was crying until I felt his shoulder grow wet beneath my face as I buried it against him.

I was so tired of fighting alone. So tired of being underestimated. So tired of control always masquerading as protection.

So tired of no one holding me with strong, warm arms like this while caring for me.

Griffin was so tall and so broadly built I felt completely safe nestled in his hold. There was no attraction between us, and I’d never once felt Griffin look at me that way.

But it felt like, for the first time, I might have a true friend.

He pulled back slightly, keeping one hand around me while the other wiped a tear. “I’m so sorry, Cleo. I never knew you had it so rough. I did know you did something to get in trouble. I didn’t know you were such a fighter.”

“I’m sorry, Griffin,” I said. “I overreacted. I’m just tired of people underestimating me.”

He smiled down at me. “It’s awesome that you know martial arts. You’ll have to show me sometime. Make me more deadly.” His eyes crinkled, and I could tell he was trying to make me feel better.

“You couldn’t hurt a fly,” I murmured, coming forward to put my head on his shoulder again.

It was so odd to find a huge man comforting.

“I could, for you or anyone I cared about,” he said.

I looked up at him. “You already care about me? I’ve only ridden on your back and spoken to you a few times.”

“I told you. You thought my animal was beautiful. Even those I loved had a hard time accepting me. I knew you were a good person from the first time we met.” He gave me a firm squeeze, lifting me off my feet and making me giggle. “And now we’re going to be good friends.”

“So touching,” a sarcastic voice cut in, and we looked up to see Sam approaching from the direction of the village, wearing the black trench coat over his tee and jeans. His hands were in the pockets, and even in the low light, I could see his eyes were burning as he appraised us both. “So I hear from Os you escaped with a fae warrior, and when I come to rescue you, you’re getting it on with the cat. Excellent.” His tone said excellent was the last thing this was.

Gods, he was tall. Almost as tall as Griffin but with a build that was more to my taste, with broad shoulders and lean muscle and thatface.

That beautiful face.

“Stop staring at me and get back to our place,” Sam grated out sternly. “It’s impossible to work with you out causing problems.”

I glared at him. “I wasn’t causing problems. Griffin was—”

“She was just talking with that warrior,” Griffin said. “Nothing harmful.”

“Any interaction with a warrior has the potential to be harmful for her, but go ahead. Justify yourself harder. I’m sure it’ll work.” Sam’s jaw ticked.

Griffin gulped. “Even though nothing was happening between them, I thought I should talk to Cleo about some self-defense—”

“Cleo is already an adequate fighter,” Sam retorted. “I’ve seen a demonstration myself. I also fail to see how that led to embracing.”

“It’s called a hug,” Griffin said, apparently having had it with Sam’s anger. “Friends do it. You ever had a friend, Sam? What about a brother? Come on, man.”

Sam’s eyes flashed, and for a second, his face went paler and his expression slackened. But it felt like I’d imagined it since it only took place in a fraction of a second, and then his face was back to cold stone.

“I owe you nothing, Griffin. You’re lucky to be alive.” Sam walked over to us and grabbed my hand, ignoring me as I tried to jerk away from him. “We’re going home.”

Home. That was odd. Staying with him. Sleeping down the hall from him.

Trying not to have dirty thoughts about him. Since I hated him.

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