Page 3 of Bound to the Griffin
I checked in on a few more folks scattered along the back roads. Mrs. Winters had enough firewood, Pete’s goats hadn’t broken loose again, and I narrowly avoided getting hexed by Thorne, the local warlock and professional bastard. You’d think checking on someone’s well-being wouldn’t warrant a fireball lobbed at your head. But nope. That was Hillcrest Hollow hospitality for you.
By the time I reached the edge of town, the sun was sliding low, and my toes were stiff with cold. The town looked peaceful from the ridge. Snow glinting off sloped roofs, the old bell atop the town hall casting long shadows, and my cabin—modest, weathered, with smoke curling from the chimney—waiting just off the main road like it always did. The carved sheriff’s sign swung a little in the wind. We didn’t have the time, space or budget to have an actual sheriff’s office, so my home did double duty. I’d much rather have the money to pay my deputy than to run this territory all by myself. It was bigger and much more involved than your average small town, after all.
What I didn’t expect was Drew, planted right on the front stoop like he’d been dropped there. The gargoyle was in his human form, which didn’t make him any less unnerving, with hisgranite-gray eyes and a build like a refrigerator. He was as still as ever, but his mouth was twitching with restrained excitement.
“The fun can begin,” he said before I’d even landed and shifted. My backyard was barely big enough for my griffin shape, but a screen of evergreens blocked the view from the neighbors and the rest of town. “She arrived last night. The woman; the new owner of the B&B. She’s been all over town today.” If he had a tail, he’d be wagging it like a puppy right now, but the rest of him stood still, as if frozen. It was a little eerie, but Drew was a good guy; he was starting to grow on me.
I groaned, raking a hand through my hair. “Of course she has.” The former owner of the B&B had been a pain in my ass, constantly calling with all kinds of complaints, real or imagined. I wasn’t looking forward to what some new human would bring. Already, I could picture her: middle-aged, hand-knitted wearables, sensible shoes. Probably a pinched mouth full of judgment and an intense dislike for anything noisy. We had to get rid of her as soon as possible.
Other humans who still remained in town were not nearly as bothersome as those who had run the B&B; that was a historical fact. Halver had been by far the worst, but at least he had had no guests to speak of during all that time, which was one worry less.
Drew grinned, sharp and knowing. “Halver’s Haven.” He stepped off my porch, moving for the first time since I returned. Though he had a key, he never went into my home, not unless I was there to urge him inside, to force him to sit down and do some paperwork.
“She’s calling it that still?” I asked, surprised anyone would want to keep the name of that misfit. He’d left in such a hurry, in the dead of night, that my senses were tingling with suspicion. Nobody did that unless they had something to hide.
He shrugged. “For now,” he drawled, a boyish grin flashing across his face. His stone-gray eyes sparkled with that humor from before, that unrepressed excitement. Unlike me, he seemed to relish the task of dealing with an unwanted human. Well, he could have her for all I cared; I wanted to steer clear as much as I could.
I climbed the steps and thumped his shoulder, sending the guy stumbling across the icy yard. “Go warm up, and make sure Liz’s niece hasn’t tried to tame another raccoon. Last time, she set the woods on fire.”
His expression soured instantly, his eyes narrowing. “That girl...” he muttered, but nodded and jogged off down the road, the snow crunching under his boots. Alone, I turned toward town, hands in my pockets and mouth set in a grim line.
Running humans off had never been my favorite part of the job. But after the last town meeting, it was unanimous: no more normals. Too much attention. Too many risks. We needed Hillcrest Hollow to stay safe for people like us: shifters, witches, warlocks, vamps, trolls, and gods knew what else had trickled in over the past years, looking for shelter, for peace. It used to be a much more bustling town, allowing us to thrive and hide in plain sight, but when our nymph disappeared twenty years ago, the protections fell, and people—humans and supernaturals—began to leave.
Now we had one once more, and a dragon for extra protection. I was eager to make the town thrive again, to bring it back to its full potential. That didn’t include judgmental humans, especially not after the most recent mess of criminals chasing after their heir.
After that fiasco, I couldn’t help the irritation curling in my gut. The girl hadn’t even been here two days, and already she was poking around, smiling, introducing herself—just begging for trouble. It was bad news all around.
Leaving my house without going back in for dry pants, I stepped onto Main Street. The air smelled like woodsmoke and ice, tinged with something sweet, like cinnamon and old dreams. I ignored it. Halver’s Haven squatted at the far end of the street, its sign crooked as a drunk’s smile. The paint was peeling. The windows were lit from within, though, and that meant she’d already unpacked. Already settled.
I sighed.
Kai stepped out of his father’s plumbing shop as I passed, brushing his hands on a rag. He was wearing his usual scowl, fangs flashing a little too easily. He pointed across the street with one claw-tipped finger, straight at the general store. He was all fangs and feral glow, as close to a shift as ever, but that was no surprise. Anything set off Kai; he spent more time on four paws than two.
I nodded, adjusting my coat collar against the cold. The skies had opened up to patter my hair and shoulders with a gentle layer of snowflakes. Not the kind that chilled your bones, not yet, but the kind that would slowly soak you to the skin, catching youunaware. I hurried across the street, ignoring Mikael, who stood at the diner’s window with his arms crossed over his wide chest, glaring and nodding at Luther’s store just like Kai had.
I got the message, they wanted me to pitch in. Time to make the new girl feel… unwelcome. At least, that had been the plan, but the second I pushed open the store door and stepped into the warm, eucalyptus-scented space, my whole damn world shifted sideways.
Because there she was, standing by the counter, snow still clinging to her coat, notebook in hand, brown eyes wide and hopeful—like she hadn’t been chewed up yet. Like she still believed in good things. Her scent hit me first: warm spices and cinnamon and something else I couldn’t name but already wanted to wrap around myself and never let go.
My pulse jackknifed, and my practiced glare began to shift before I could control myself. She turned, met my eyes, and everything in me just... clicked.
Mine.
The word struck like lightning, sizzling through every cell and roaring through the beast inside me. Mine. Soulmate. Oh, hell...
Chapter 3
Gwendolyn
I had no idea how it happened. One second, I was standing by the counter with nothing but a useless shopping list and a growing pit in my stomach, and the next, I was clutching an old wooden crate, watching Luther glide through the store like a silk-draped shadow, gathering things I hadn’t even thought to ask for.
Bleach, paint brushes, two kinds of wood filler—something that looked suspiciously like industrial-grade drain cleaner. There was a sack of flour, a new broom, weather stripping, and gloves. The crate in my arms started to groan under the weight of it all, and Luther had already slipped lighter objects into a basket on the counter, too. I opened my mouth to say something, but the sheriff—Jackson—just gave me a look: calm, steady, assured.
I snapped my mouth shut, and, like some bizarre magic spell, Luther kept going. If the man was annoyed, he hid it beneath layers of glacial indifference. Only his eyes—those piercing gray shards of moonlight—betrayed a flicker of confusion. His eyes danced with disbelief, even irritation, but he obeyed Jackson’s quiet, firm suggestions all the same.
“Aluminum insulation tape,” Jackson said mildly from where he’d started inspecting the window caulk kits. “She’ll want it. That attic window’s drafty. I saw it last week when I flew...” He cleared his throat. “Drove past.”
Luther lifted a brow. “Of course.” If that was confusion, it was bordering on a personal crisis now. I blinked at the odd choiceof words, flew? Drove? Jackson sure seemed to know an awful lot about the sorry state the B&B was in. I hoped he wasn’t one of those guys who thought a girl couldn’t know shit about home improvement; he’d be in for a surprise if that was the case. I loved fixing stuff.
