Page 33 of Bound to the Griffin
The brand-new deck creaked gently under my boots as I stepped out into the golden afternoon. Gwen was inside, laughing with Rosy about her sore lack of a green thumb. She was so happy these days, and so was I. I couldn’t quite believe how lucky we’d gotten. To find each other in this huge world, to discover this slice of heaven, and to protect it against those who had tried to steal it from us.
Grandma Liz sat in one of the rocking chairs, her shawl wrapped tight, her eyes sharp as ever as they followed the sunlight playing across the yard. She didn’t look at me when she spoke. “She’s happy here,” she said, stating the obvious, her bangles clattering together as she folded her hands in her lap.
“Yes,” I said simply, leaning against the porch rail. “She is.” The forest at the back had suffered a little from Chardum’s landing of fire and light. It had been the very thing that sent the evil, treeish thing into hiding. It had shattered the shadows, though they’d briefly recoiled and seemed like opponents, like men with arms and claws we had to fight. Thorne had taken the brunt ofit somehow, but all of us had gotten some scratches, now long since healed.
The forest had also healed. Springtime had given Rosemary the surge of power needed to boost trees and shrubs, blooming them into new life. There was still a bit of a gap in the cover of the trees from Chardum’s landing, but that was the only sign anything had ever happened. In fact, it looked prettier than ever, full of wildflowers and fresh green. The nymph had not been able to resist improving on what was already there.
The old woman’s hands folded over her cane. “Good. Took long enough for that girl to find her place. Don’t let her lose it.” As if she hadn’t tried hard to make her lose it in the first place, when Gwen had just gotten here. I quirked an eyebrow at her, and her eyes twinkled; she knew.
I gave a short huff of laughter. “You really think I’d let go?” My hand touched the mark around my neck, thicker and more prominent than Gwen’s delicate circlet. My throat was ringed with feathers that shimmered and glowed when the light hit just right, or when Gwen and I were deep in the throes of passion.
“You’d be a fool if you did. Fact is, something strange is going on in the Hollow. Why are we so blessed with these matings? Why now, after so long?” Liz wanted to worry about something good, but I couldn’t bring myself to. So we were lucky—so what? I hoped many more of my friends would be blessed with a mate of their own. Like aloof but lonely Luther, like soft-spoken Arden, and even Thorne. The warlock had gone back to his prickly, fireball-throwing ways, but I knew he liked it when I flew by to check on him. At the very least, he enjoyed the verbal sparring that broke up his lonely days in that mansion.
I shrugged. “Maybe times are changing. Maybe it isn’t just the Hollow; maybe it’s happening elsewhere too.” My gaze shifted back toward the inn’s windows, where Gwen’s shadow moved gracefully across the curtains. “Regardless, I’ll guard her, Liz. With my life.”
The rocking chair creaked again, slow and thoughtful. “Good. Because I’ll be busy with my own project soon.” She cackled a laugh that was more evil hag than respected alpha wolf. Rising from the rocking chair, her skirts whispered, and her bangles chimed cheerfully.
That pulled me around to face her, thoughts centering on our de facto leader rather than my sexy mate. “Project?” I asked, certain she was up to no good. “What sort of project?”
Her eyes glimmered with the kind of mischief only an old matriarch could pull off. “The library. Been too long since this town had a proper one. People need stories; they need knowledge. They’ll need a place to gather when the dark tries to creep back in.”Back in, my thoughts echoed. I didn’t like it, but the truth was, it could. Thorne had shared his suspicions with us all; we were on guard, and that was all we could do.
I frowned, then nodded. “A safe place—okay, I can see that.” I turned again to face Main Street on the other side of the B&B. The old library building sat beside Luther’s store, and I knew he regularly complained about the noises coming from the dark building.
“Yes, exactly. Knowledge is power. Remember that!” The mayor moved to the edge of the deck and touched the still-unvarnished railing with thoughtful fingers. Then she revealed her true plan:“I know just the librarian we need to take charge of that old place. Luther can help her.”
Oh boy, seriously? Another outsider? I wasn’t sure we were ready for that. Supernaturals looking for a retreat were one thing, but we’d barely gotten over Gwen’s mom’s whirlwind visit. Let alone the chaos of the past winter, the past fall, heck, the past summer. It hadn’t been quiet around here from the moment Rosemary had come to reclaim her heritage.
For a moment, silence stretched between us, companionable and sure. Then Gwen’s laughter rang out again from inside, and Liz’s lips curved into the faintest smile. “Go on, Sheriff,” she murmured. “Your mate’s waiting.”
I did not need to be told twice. Tipping my hat in goodbye, I stepped back into the B&B—our nest—with the weight of her words settling deep in my bones, solid as the mountain beneath our feet. Gwen’s smile was radiant when she saw me, and I swept her into my arms, Rosy’s presence forgotten. “I love you, Gwen.”
THE END
