A Promise of Fire (17 page)

My mouth opens, but no sound comes out. My chest tightens painfully. He’s…worried about me?

“Don’t you have any sense of self-preservation?” Griffin thunders. “Don’t you fear?”

“Fear?” The word echoes eerily, louder and more high-pitched than I intended. “I have nothing
but
a sense of self-preservation, and there’s only one thing I fear.”

A tiny muscle contracts under Griffin’s eye. “Alpha Fisa.”

I nod, watching him carefully. He exhales with a curse and starts walking. He paces the cavern for a long time, his jaw grinding, his fists tight, glancing furiously at me every now and then. Minutes pass, and I eventually see the smoke settle.

Inhaling a deep breath, he stops in front of me, his hands on his hips. “Don’t leave the castle grounds without one of us,” he finally says. “Please. I’ll worry if you do.”

Everything in me stills.
Did he just ask nicely?

I swallow, my throat suddenly thick. My voice comes out raw. “Why? I’ll always come back. I can’t leave you unless you release me from my vow.” Or I’m abducted, so he kind of has a point.

“I have enough to worry about. I don’t want to worry about you, too.”

I press my lips together and look away, escaping something in his eyes I don’t want to face, or even acknowledge. I stall by brushing myself off and then pushing disheveled hair out of my face. My braid is a mess, my clothes are dusty, and I’m pretty sure I have a scrape on my hip. It stings, but it’s not bleeding. If I could use magic on him, Griffin wouldn’t dare toss me around, and I wouldn’t end up the loser at the end of every fight. I hate him. I really do.

Sort of.

Not really.

Gods! I’m such a mess!

“Fine.”

“Fine?” He looks surprised.

“Do I have to repeat it?” I snap.

He flashes a lopsided grin. “Or say it in sign language?”

My insides dip, going cavernous and light. There’s a flutter deep in my belly. “Why don’t I ever think of stabbing you?” I ask, sliding my fingers over the knife in my belt.

Griffin chuckles, and before I can frown, or curse, or say something cutting, he closes the gap between us, sweeps me into his arms, and kisses me.

I must be demented because I don’t even put up a fight. A long rumble of thunder vibrates through my body. Lightning races under my skin. Stunned by the strange and startling rush of power, I open my mouth, and Griffin invades it, his hot tongue rolling over mine. Desire instantly surges on a wild, irrepressible storm. I’ve never been kissed like this before—part passion, part possession, part need. All heat.

Temporarily insane, I slip my hands around Griffin’s neck and touch my tongue to his. I taste his husky groan as he spears his fingers into my hair, gripping the nape of my neck to tilt my head back and deepen the kiss. His other hand tightens on my waist, pulling our bodies together. He’s intense, hungry, and yet surprisingly gentle. No one has ever been careful with me before. I don’t need careful, but something inside me still cracks, a fissure created by this earthquake of a man.

I should fight him. I really should, but my fingers curl into his hair, and my tongue tangles more urgently with his. He smooths his hand up my back and then back down again to the curve of my bottom, squeezing. With us pressed together, I can feel all of him, making me intimately aware of his coiled strength, of the tension rising in his powerful frame. His lips cover mine, brushing, seeking, drowning me in sensation. Unable to stop myself, I lean into him, and my body ignites. Wings beat, fanning the flames, and I hear a moan that couldn’t possibly be mine.
Definitely
not mine.

I should really do something about this.

Soon.

Very soon.

My leg skims up his thigh to hook around his hip.

With a ragged sound, Griffin grabs my leg and tears his mouth from mine, trailing his lips along my jaw and down my neck. He’s probably getting a mouthful of dust.
Ha!

Sort of.

Hmm…

His tongue swirls against my skin, and I gasp. His voice rough with passion, he rasps, “You’re living fire. I burn.”

I open my eyes. Actually, I’m the Fisan without fire.

His lips mold to mine again with alarming perfection, but I twist, breaking his hold on me and stepping back. It’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.

“Don’t kiss me.” My legs are unsteady. My voice comes out hoarse. We’re both panting.

Griffin stares at me, his eyes dark, his chest rising and falling. “Why not?”

A fist squeezes my heart, crushing it. “You abducted me. You kept me tied up. You coerced me into working for you. I don’t want to be with you.”

“You’re lying.”

That fissure gapes wider. I press my lips together, as if that small act of cohesion will keep the rest of me from falling apart.

Griffin blows out a long exhale and then touches my cheek in a way that makes my breath stutter. “What’s scaring you?”

Everything. Her.
I feel like crying. “Don’t kiss me again. Vow it.”

His fingers fall from my cheek, and he scrubs his hand down his face, looking tired all of a sudden. “Is that really what you want?”

I nod, too scared to open my mouth. Something unexpected and dangerous might pop out.

Carver enters the cavern just when it looks like Griffin might speak. “I was the unfortunate chosen to come in here and make sure you two haven’t killed each other off,” he announces cheerfully.

“We haven’t,” Griffin replies evenly.

“Yet,” I mutter.

Griffin throws me a somber look and then strides out of the cave. It doesn’t escape me that he never gave his word. And as I stare in shock and confusion at the charred footprints branching out like lightning bolts in the dust where I just stood, it doesn’t escape me that I’m relieved he didn’t.

Griffin discusses projects and politics with Carver for the rest of the journey. With Flynn and Kato riding as a pair, I spend our final two days on the road trailing behind. There’s no sparring, no teasing, no being hounded with questions. There are no jokes, at least not for me, and being on the outside suddenly tastes like sour lemons.

I pull up alongside Flynn. “Why is everyone ignoring me?”

His big shoulders roll in a shrug. “We’re not. We just don’t understand. Griffin agreed to your conditions. He asked
one
thing in return, and you went berserk.”

His disappointment jars me. “I said I wouldn’t leave the castle alone.”

“Under duress. And we’d all like to know what Griffin did to make you agree.”

“He asked nicely,” I answer tartly.
And nothing else I’m talking about. Or thinking about. Or acknowledging. Ever.

Flynn turns to me with round eyes. “Is that all? If being nice to you is all it takes to make you less prickly, why do I always feel like I’m talking to a hedgehog?”

Feeling more than a little chastised, I urge Panotii ahead and only drop back again when we reach the walls of Sinta City. I can’t believe Griffin hasn’t sent someone ahead to prepare an escort, or at least get some kind of fanfare going. This is Beta and Delta Sinta returning to the royal seat after weeks away. There should be a ceremony.

Instead, we amble toward the castle largely unrecognized. Taking quiet back roads through the city, Griffin and Carver talk over what their guards said at the gate. Apparently, nothing is happening. People are satisfied, settled. Trade is healthy. Crops are good. A Magoi royal family gets butchered. A Hoi Polloi family moves in. All in a day’s work. I feel like I should dust off my hands and shrug. If you ask me, it’s weird.

Entering Sinta City feels a little like coming home. The circus’s main venue lies just outside the walls, and we’d all come here for shopping, worship, and entertainment. It’s a bright, open place full of marble statues, clear, cool fountains, soaring temples, and symmetrical architecture. The main bathhouse is almost as grand as the one in Fisa City, and the market is the biggest I’ve seen—a true agora, where people shop, talk, and scheme. The castle sits on a rise to the northwest, dominating the city. Since I avoid royals like the plague, I always steered clear of it. I guess that strategy got tossed out the window along with my freedom.

There’s a somewhat more satisfying commotion at the castle gate. A loud horn blasts two and then four times, for Beta and Delta Sinta. A moment later, people spill out of the barracks, cheering, grinning, and shaking fists.

The courtyard is enormous, as big as two city blocks, and paved entirely in white marble. A high, fortified wall with an imposing gatehouse rises behind us, its spiked portcullis slamming shut with a definitive clang. To our left lies a block of sandstone barracks. In front and to our right sits the castle itself. It’s huge—five levels high with thick marble walls and tall, arching windows, deep set to combat the heat. Decorated columns and domed arcades band the entire building. On the side overlooking a large wooded area beyond the castle, the arcades extend into tiered terraces gurgling with fountains and shaded by potted citrus and cypress trees.

The ornate structure glows in the evening sun, the slanted, orange-tinged light turning the white palace into a pearlescent, peach-colored jewel. It’s breathtakingly beautiful—and nothing like Castle Fisa. There’s warmth here. Castle Fisa is as cold as the Ice Plains lurking behind it.

A statue of Athena dominates the courtyard. She’s a different-colored marble, streaked with the rosy tones of the south. She must have been brought here. The soldiers filling the courtyard kiss their fingers and then touch her sandaled feet as they pass.

Wisdom and war.
They could do worse.

We’re halfway across the courtyard when the castle’s main doors burst open. Four women run toward us, hiking up their skirts. There’s no mistaking Egeria, Jocasta, Kaia, and Nerissa—Griffin’s sisters and mother. The family resemblance is striking.

Griffin slides off Brown Horse and opens his arms. All four women jump on him at once, babbling like excited geese. They attack Carver next, and he stumbles under the onslaught. They greet Flynn and Kato with barely less enthusiasm before flying at Griffin and Carver again.

These people actually like each other? What kind of family is this?
I turn away, a tight, prickly feeling spreading across my chest.

Egeria, Alpha Sinta, approaches me, her dark head cocked to one side, her soft-gray eyes inquisitive. I know it’s her because she’s at least thirty-five while the other sisters are both much younger. Then there’s Nerissa. She’s just plain old.

“Is this who you’ve found for us, Griffin?” Egeria asks, shading her dove-like eyes from the setting sun.

“
This
has a name,” I say frostily. “It’s Cat.”

“And she has claws,” Griffin supplies, winking at his sister. “So don’t provoke her.”

“It was not my intention to provoke,” Egeria says, smiling at me. “Welcome, Cat.”

I try to smile back but feel my expression twist into a dash of murderous, a pinch of maniacal, and a sprinkle of watch your back.
Oops.

Egeria swallows hard enough for me to see her throat move. “Griffin set out to find Magoi to employ. What do you do, Cat?”

“Stay alive,” I answer. “I’m good at it. Are you?”

Her already-huge eyes get even bigger. I see her throat move again.

“Toughen up, Alpha,” I say sharply. Turning to Griffin, I ask, “This is your plan? Benign queen, implacable warlord?” I roll my eyes. “I can hardly contain my cynicism.”

Egeria responds first, surprising me. “Please do. At least until we’re inside.”

“Where’s Basil?” one of the girls asks. Kaia, I think—the youngest. “Did he confess?”

“Cat figured him out,” Griffin says. “She reads people. That’s why she’s here.”

Understanding flickers to life on their faces. It’s like watching the stars come out one by one at night. These people are so open it’s frightening.

“Where’s Father?” Griffin asks.

“Sleeping,” his mother responds. Nerissa has salt-and-pepper hair and a plump, matronly figure. Her arms look welcoming and soft. If I’d seen her as a little girl, I’d have wanted to crawl into her lap.

“And Piers?”

“Patrolling with Gamma Team. They’ll be back tonight.”

After a few more questions, Griffin sends the women back to the coolness of the castle. Before leaving, they dip down awkwardly in my direction, I think as a sign of respect. For Magoi? For me? Officially, I’m a nobody. Don’t they know I’m supposed to be the one bowing to them? I can’t help shaking my head as they disappear into the castle.

Griffin turns to me, his gray eyes flinty. “What?”

My heart flips over. It’s the first time he’s really looked at me or talked to me in two days. He wasn’t being cold, or even unpleasant. I don’t think it’s in him to be that childish. He just busied himself with other people and other things until there was no room left for me.

My pulse abnormally quick, I answer, “You’re clearly in charge no matter who’s Alpha. And they need to work on their curtsies—and who to give them to. People will laugh when they see them wobbling like that.”

“Who cares what people think?”

“You care. The second people laugh at you, it’s over. You took this on, now you all have to play the parts. Flawlessly. Or else…” I make a throat-slitting motion.

“Can you teach them court etiquette?”

“Seriously? Now I have to play nursemaid as well?”

“Can you?” he repeats evenly.

I hesitate. Becoming a personal princess trainer could work to my advantage. “For a price.”

Griffin’s tone hardens. “What price?”

“If Fisan or Tarvan royalty come here, I stay hidden. Same thing for their top advisors.”

“Invisible hidden? Or not-in-the-room hidden?”

I look at him like he’s left his only bucket at the well. “Invisible hidden. I won’t be much use detecting lies if I can’t hear them.”

He studies me for a moment, as if assessing my motives, and then agrees.

Huh. That was easy.
“Is that a promise?”

He nods. “It’s a promise.”

In the waning light, his gray eyes are darker, softer, but still magnetic. I tear my gaze away before I give in to any ridiculous urges, like being nice to him. “Can I have a bath now? I need to wash off that cave.”

I don’t mean the dust, and Griffin knows it. His expression flattens in an instant, and the sinking, hollow feeling in my stomach feels a lot like regret.

We stable the horses behind the barracks and then make our way across a second, smaller courtyard. “You’re welcome to use the royal bathhouse.” Griffin points toward an arched entryway, his voice unbearably neutral.

I scan the buildings. “Where’s the women’s pool?” A quarter of the soldiers spilling out of the barracks were women. Unusual, but not unheard of.

He points to our left. “It’ll be crowded. There are over a hundred women in the barracks. You’ll have more privacy in the royal bathhouse.”

True, but the idea of sharing his family’s personal space is just too awkward.

“Cat?” Flynn calls.

I turn, and he grabs me, his big arms squashing my ribs.

“Ow! You big oaf! What are you doing?”

Kato snatches my ankles and swings them up. Carver leads the way, whistling a marching tune, and they start toward the royal bathhouse, Griffin trailing behind.

“What’s going on?” I curse, wiggling helplessly. Well, not exactly helplessly with all the Fire Magic I have stored up, but I don’t want to maim or kill anyone, either.

“Initiation,” Griffin says tersely. “Don’t bother struggling.”

Ten seconds later, Kato and Flynn toss me into the water, boots and all. Fuming, I sink to the bottom of the pool and stay there until my lungs nearly burst, watching the smug looks on their faces veer toward concern.

“Gods, Cat!” Kato says when I finally surface. “You’re the last person I thought we’d drown.”

I spit an enormous mouthful of water at him. Kato uses his dusty forearm to wipe off his face, leaving it streaked with mud, and I can’t help laughing when he gives me a huge grin from behind whiskers and grime.

“Don’t take long. We’re next,” Griffin says in clipped tones.

“At least you didn’t all strip naked and jump in with me,” I joke.

Kato chuckles. “Maybe next time.”

“Out!” Griffin barks.

“Did you leave your sense of humor somewhere?” I ask, treading water and trying to take my boots off at the same time.

Granite eyes flash to mine. “It must be in the cave.”

* * *

I can live in the castle or the barracks. I choose the barracks, but instead of being housed in the women’s wing, I’m given the room between Kato and Flynn. I guess Griffin wasn’t bluffing about everyone keeping an eye on me.

Griffin lives in the castle, and as I settle into my new room, I feel annoyingly dejected. I was getting used to his solid presence, hearing him breathe in the dark. I’ll miss sleeping through the night.

Alone and bored, I take a nap because it’s impossible to resist the bed. Later, Griffin arrives, cleaned up, shaved, and looking striking in much finer clothes than I’ve seen him in before. He informs me that I’m having dinner in the castle and then shepherds me across the courtyard with a firm hand on my lower back, nudging when I balk at the entrance to the formal dining room.

“I’m not dressed enough,” I mutter, digging in my heels.

He looks me over. “You look dressed to me. I recall a lot more skin when you’re not.”

The blush that instantly hits my face sparks a teasing gleam in his eyes. Once it’s back, I realize how much I missed it.

“And a few freckles over here,” he adds, trailing his fingertips up my ribs and coming dangerously close to the swell of my breast.

A wave of pure heat crashes over me, and I jerk away from his hand. “I’m about to dine with Sintan royalty. Not that I take any of you seriously, but there is such a thing as tradition.”

He shrugs. “I’m wearing pants.”

“Are the
women
?”

His expression turns resigned. “I’ll take you shopping tomorrow.”

“I can go shopping by myself. I’ve been to Sinta City before.”

He shakes his head. “You’re not leaving the castle without me.”

“You have other things to do. Send Kato. Or Flynn.”

“No.”

“What do you mean,
no
?”

He goes from resigned to belligerent in a heartbeat. “Do you need me to say it in—”

“Sign language won’t be necessary,” I interrupt, scowling. Disgruntled, I straighten my shoulders and lift my chin. I’ll show these people how a curtsy is done, even if I am wearing soggy boots and a bloody pair of pants. Literally. There’s blood on them, and I can’t get it out, no matter how hard I scrub. At least it’s not mine.

I take a step forward only to get jerked back.

“Are there things men need to know about court etiquette? Things
I
need to know?”

I huff. “Men just stand around looking ferocious, frowning, and flexing their muscles. It’s very unfair.”

Griffin chuckles and raises his hand. I flinch—old habits die hard—and he frowns at my reaction. He smooths his hand down my braid, his calluses snagging on strands of hair. The tips of his fingers brush the side of my neck, and their roughness makes me shiver.

“You should really stop resisting me,” he murmurs.

I swallow, fighting the urge to step away. Or step closer.
Gods! What is
wrong
with me?
I hardly recognize my own voice when I speak. “Why?”

He leans down to whisper in my ear. “Because you don’t want to.” He slips his hand around my waist, and his lips graze my cheek, soft and warm.

I freeze, disturbingly aware of how my body tries to gravitate toward his. When he lifts his head, his gray eyes are stormy and full of things I can’t have, or even think about. My heart starts thumping, the wild, erratic pounding leaving me breathless. I step back, grumble something about arrogant warlords, and straighten my clothes, which were straight to begin with. Looking smug, Griffin offers me his arm. I ignore it and step into the room first, breaking etiquette just to get away from him.