Page 8 of Bound to the Griffin
Then I swallowed roughly and forced myself to get it together. I didn’t want to think of myself as a helpless little damsel, but damn it, that wolf was huge. Did they even come that big? I was pretty sure he’d tower over me if he approached, but that was probably just the fear talking, wasn’t it? My hand was still shaking around the thermos, and it was half cracked, what if I hurled that at it? Him? I was pretty sure it was a him, though I couldn’t entirely explain why. Something in the breadth of his shoulders, perhaps.
It wasn’t super hot anymore, but perhaps hot enough to scare him off if he lunged. Except he didn’t lunge, he just stood there, staring at me, mouth slowly pulling into a fearsome snarl, all fangs and bite. Something cunning moved behind those eyes that made my skin crawl and nausea rise in my gut. It was almost like hatred, but… animals didn’t hate, did they?
I wasn’t ready, not with the cup, not with any kind of plan. When he moved, it was lightning-fast, and all I could do was stumble back and fall. The ground abruptly gave way beneath my feet,snow sliding and taking me with it. With a scream, I rolled down the previously not-so-steep-seeming slope of a hill. My thermos went flying, but not in any kind of meaningful direction, simply lost in the chaos of the fall.
A mouthful of snow and darkness stung my eyes as I went face down. Then, a sharp pain shot through my ankle, and I curled away, screaming, before my head hit something hard and darkness claimed me. As I sank into oblivion, I heard the loud screech of an eagle shattering the winter silence.
Chapter 6
Jackson
The cold was supposed to clear my head. That was the lie I told myself as my wings cut through the late-afternoon air over Hillcrest Hollow’s forests, each beat rattling the winter wind in my ears. Grandma Liz’s words kept echoing, no matter how far I flew:She’s not your soulmate. It would be better if I forgot she existed and let the others do their job of driving her off.
I’d really tried. I’d buried myself in work, in patrols, even in paperwork that didn’t need doing. All it had earned me was the title of “grumpiest sheriff in Hollow history” from Drew, and a deep ache inside my chest. Yet here I was, breaking my own rule about keeping a safe distance, angling toward the glow of Halver’s Haven just to see her.
One glance, I told myself. Just to confirm the pull I felt toward Gwendolyn Avery was fading, or, better yet, that I’d imagined it. But then it hit me—sharp, sudden, primal. A knot of urgency coiled low in my gut, the same sense of warning that had saved my unit more than once overseas. Something was wrong, very wrong.
I banked hard, snowflakes blurring the world beneath me, and followed the thrum in my chest straight toward the B&B. That was when the scream ripped through the quiet afternoon, a jagged sound that turned my blood to ice. I recognized that voice; it had featured in all of my dreams, though her shouts had never sounded like this. This was fear. Pain. Not the ragged noises of arousal that had paraded through my brain.
I dove, pressing my paws along my body and sticking out my neck for speed. The forest opened into a narrow ridge, a drop-off hidden beneath a heavy quilt of snow. And there—my heart damn near stopped—was Gwen, half over the edge, limp as a rag doll. She hung headfirst over the edge of the short drop, and though short, I knew jagged rocks were hidden beneath the fine powder snow. A massive gray wolf had his teeth clamped around her ankle.
The first thing my brain registered: he was attacking her.
The second: it was Kai. I knew the shape of that wolf, had seen it roam the forests night after night, day after day for years on end. Ever since I’d settled in the Hollow. He was menacing her unconscious body with his maw of razor-sharp teeth, and my mind flashed with images of raw wounds, of tears and gashes in soft, silky skin.
“Drop her!” I roared, the eagle in me shrieking over the wind. It didn’t come out in words anyone could understand; I was no telepathic being like Chardum, the resident dragon. Kai would understand the meaning anyway, especially once he met my sharp claws. I arrowed down, my paws reaching, claws gleaming, ready to tear into him. Kai’s ears flattened and he almost released her—would have, if I hadn’t pulled up at the last instant. If he dropped her, she’d fall. I shifted mid-landing, boots crunching into the snow, and lunged for her.
“Got you,” I muttered, hauling her back from the ledge. She crashed into my chest, clutching fistfuls of my jacket like she wasn’t letting go anytime soon. Her breath came in ragged clouds, smelling faintly of the same blend of tea she’d made forme. Her eyes blinked hazily at me as she rose from the depths of darkness. I had never been more relieved to see someone wake.
I glared over her head at Kai. “What the hell was that?!” Blood scented the air from her torn leg, and it dripped into the pristine snow in bright, scarlet drops. I hissed in fury at the sight, my gut roiling with horror and with shame over having failed to protect her. She was so limp in my arms, barely conscious at all, but her warm brown eyes had locked onto my face like it was the only thing holding her to the surface.
The wolf whined and dropped down on his paws, belly in the snow, eyes apologetic. Under my glare, he wilted even more, and then he shimmered, his fur melting away in a flash of warm light. Kai crouched in the snow, naked as the day he was born—human again—only his stupid cowboy hat somehow still on his head. A red blotch bloomed across his jaw, already fading, healing fast.
“She tripped,” he growled, his voice rough from the shift. “I was trying to scare her a little, not send her over. I caught her before she could crack her skull.” That’s not what it had looked like to me, but itwastrue that if the wolf had let go, she could very well be dead now. The image of her with a broken neck, blood pooling around her in the snow, was jagged and sharp. Horrifying. It made me growl, the sound that of the lion side of me, and it intimidated even irrepressible Kai. Normally grumpy and half-feral, he winced, unbothered by the icy wind. “What can I do?” he asked miserably.
Gwen jerked against me, her body trembling against mine as the cold began to sink into her skin. Her clothes were wet and soggy from the snow she’d rolled through, and she had to be in shockfrom the pain and the scare. Her face was as white as the snow around us, her lips turning an alarming shade of purple. I lifted my head only long enough to glare at the one responsible. “Get Arden. Now.”
For a heartbeat, he just stared at me, something wild still burning in his eyes. Then he shifted without another word, snow kicking up under his paws as he bolted into the trees. He didn’t want to obey, but at the same time, he was not a bad man. Once my anger calmed and my mate had been healed and tucked into her warm bed, I would remember that. And remember that Kai had held on because he hadn’t wanted to kill her.
The wind sighed in the sudden quiet. I looked down at the woman in my arms, her cheeks red from the cold. There was clarity returning to her gaze, and with it, anger I was happy to see. Good, let her be mad. I was mad too. Kai had a lot to make up for. Then I winced internally, because I knew I did too. If I’d been around, none of this would have happened. Her lips parted, like she was about to argue with me too.
She had no idea she’d just given me another reason I wasn’t letting her go. “No,” I said to her, and her mouth snapped shut. “Whatever you’re about to say, forget it. I’m carrying you home, and I’m not leaving until the doctor has taken care of you.” Her dark eyes softened, and, with a tired, shaky sigh, she settled her head against my chest beneath my chin.
That sign of trust almost undid me. Damn it. It shot through my pulse like wildfire and stirred feelings that had nothing to do with this situation. Lust, desire, passion. It had no place here, but passion was so close to fury, and with Kai gone, my fury had no place to go.
I rose, cradling her tightly against my chest, careful of her injured leg and the bloody gash at the back of her head. The snow had been disturbed from her run, and I could trace back her steps with my sharp eyes, see the large bounding leaps Kai had made as he chased her. I saw, too, the way the wolf had sped up and leaped, the timing impossible to read from these tracks. A thermos had rolled to a stop at the base of a tree, its lid missing, and lavender and chamomile wafted up from the interior. An explanation for the redness on the wolf’s face.
I nudged it with the toe of my boot so it came to lie at the center of the path, but I did not bend down to pick it up. I’d come back for it later and locate the lid for her, too. My mate was obviously crazy about her teas, those had been the only things unpacked when she’d invited me into the B&B before. Tins upon tins of special blends lined up on the ancient, worn sideboard in the living room. She’d need a kettle she could use over the fireplace, I decided then. It was possibly the only warm room in the house.
Kai would know where to send Arden, so I did not wait for them in the woods while darkness began to fall and my mate kept getting colder. The house wasn’t far—she’d only made it a mile or two out of town—and my legs ate up the distance. I did not like her color or how quiet she was. Last time, she’d filled the space between us with charming stories and nervous words, and I wanted her to do that again.
When I reached the gate to the barren, empty backyard of the B&B, I noted that the gate didn’t even lock. It swung creakily in the wind, moaning creepily. I nudged it shut with my hip, but there wasn’t much I could do about it unless I came back out here with some tools. Perhaps I could get away with fixing this up without Gwen noticing. Better to ask forgiveness thanpermission in this one instance. I’d feel better if all her doors and locks functioned, even if I knew nobody would dare to bother her inside her home. They might want to scare her off, but they weren’t total bastards.
My senses tingled when I approached the backdoor I’d already known was crooked in its frame. It was open, and it too bumped back and forth in the wind with an eerie sound, this one softer. “Gwen, honey,” I said softly, “did you lock the door when you left this afternoon?” She stirred against me, growing tense in my arms, and mutely shook her head, then winced as the motion clearly hurt her head.
I wanted to call for Drew so he could check the house for us and make sure it was safe. Gwen was getting colder, though, and she still hadn’t said anything. I cocked my head, listening closely, but other than the sounds of the house itself, I was certain there was nobody inside. Knowing my mate needed heat as soon as possible, I made the decision to go inside. None of the scents coming from the house were familiar, but I did pick up a human one that wasn’t Gwen. I could handle one lousy human.
The kitchen was empty—moldy and ancient—but nothing seemed amiss inside it. Every cupboard hung open. The hallway was untouched, but when I shouldered open the door to the living room, chaos met us. There was no fire in the hearth, but the ashes had been brushed out and scattered all over the floor. Worse, the furniture had been turned over and tossed aside, floorboards pulled up left and right, with a crowbar still lying on the edge of the stone lip of the fireplace. And even that wasn’t the worst of it. No, that had to be the broken pieces of china crunching beneath my boots, and the tea and herbs dustingevery surface. Not a single tin had been left unopened, and all contents had been dumped.
