A Promise of Fire (21 page)

Heat floods my face, and my heart starts pounding like a herd of Centaurs. I don’t look at Griffin. I
will not
look at Griffin.

“I would still have to begin construction of both healing centers at the same time,” Egeria continues as if she hadn’t just splattered the issue of Griffin and me across the dinner table. “I don’t want to offend southerners.”

I try to focus, which is really difficult when the man next to me makes my entire body hum with awareness. “Then build faster in Ios and establish it first. It’ll go faster anyway. Everything is more efficient closer to the magic.”

“Including you?” Griffin asks.

“I’m efficient everywhere.”

“And modest, as usual,” Carver says, tipping his full wineglass in my direction. He sets it down again without drinking.

I incline my head in acknowledgment. “Lovely to see you again, Carver. Your existence had completely slipped my mind.”

Kaia chokes on something, probably goat cheese.

Carver grins. “I’ll remind you tomorrow when I spank you in a sword fight.”

“Spank me? I doubt you’re immune to magic like your brother is.” A ball of Chimera’s Fire crackles to life in my palm.

“Cat!” Nerissa says sharply. “Manners, please. And don’t threaten Carver at the dinner table.”

“He said ‘spank’ first!”

“You’re the lady. Rise above.”

“That’s not fair,” I say, sounding suspiciously like a four-year-old.

Nerissa looks at me like she’s been scolding me since before I could walk. “Who told you life was fair?”

Good point.
I scowl and reabsorb the flames. As soon as she looks away, I glare at Carver and mouth
tomorrow
.

Griffin does his best not to laugh—fails—and I kick him under the table.

Kaia bounces in her seat. “Tell us about the Lost Princess of Fisa.”

We just started the main course, and I nearly spit out my moussaka. I swallow and clear my throat. “There’s not much to tell. She’s gone, and unless she’s found, or killed, the Fisan royal line after the current Alpha can always be called into question.”

“But how can she just disappear?” Kaia asks.

I shrug. “Maybe she went to the Ice Plains.”

“Then isn’t it likely she’s already dead?” Piers asks.

“Not everyone who goes to the Ice Plains dies there. I have a friend, Aetos, who survived.”

“She could have gone to the Lake Oracles,” Griffin says.

My heart kicks me in the ribs even as I shake my head. “I don’t think so.”

“Why not? An Oracle could help her escape.”

“That’s assuming she needed help.”

He swirls the wine in his glass, frowning. “Doesn’t everyone?”

“Do you?” The question pops out before I realize I’ve trapped myself.

“Yes.” Griffin faces me, his one softly spoken word settling deep inside me. But I see more than need in his eyes. I see desire, and care, and possessiveness, and a whole mess of things I refuse to deal with.

I swallow the lump rising in my throat. “I don’t.” Denial works. Always has.

Sort of.

“What about fangs?” he asks. “And giant hands?”

Eh…

“What about fangs and giant hands?” Kaia asks.

“Nothing!” Carver and I say at once.

“Well, that’s intriguing.” Egeria eyes us in a way that makes her look exactly like her mother.

“We’ll start curtsy lessons after dinner,” I announce.

“Subtle,” Griffin whispers in my ear.

I swivel my head to give him the evil eye, find us so close our breath mingles, and can’t quite manage it.

“Excellent idea,” Egeria says. “Especially with the nobles coming soon.”

What?
“When?”

Her hands flutter nervously above her plate. “In a month’s time. Invitations have already gone out for our first realm dinner.”

It’s a smart move. Fast. “That will be an important evening.”

Egeria and Griffin exchange a glance. “It will likely determine whether Sintan Magoi back us, leave us alone, or plot to overthrow us,” she says.

I nod. “If you really want change, you’re going to have to strike a delicate balance no one has tried before. You’ve got the Hoi Polloi heart of the realm, but Magoi nobles are still the blood, pumping all over the northern half of Sinta to their little fiefdoms where they rule, just like warlords do in the south. Gain their respect, and they may turn into valuable tools. At the very least, gain their indifference to keep them from actively thwarting you. Anything else, and they’ll all be wondering why they aren’t on the throne.”

“There’s so much to learn,” Egeria frets. “Who they are. What they can do… And then there’s court etiquette. How to greet. How to bow. Who can talk to whom. Everything’s so different in the north and among Magoi.” Her eyes widen in her pale face, and she looks at Griffin like he has all the answers. “What if we’re not ready?”

“A month is plenty of time to get ready,” he says reassuringly.

I attempt an encouraging smile. “It’s true. And I can’t wait for you to prove to them that southern Hoi Polloi aren’t complete heathens after all. Half the nobles will probably die of apoplexy on the spot.”

Egeria turns to me, two splotches of pink washing across her cheeks. My stomach drops. My version of supportive clearly needs work.

“I’ll make study scrolls about the nobles and their magic,” I offer. “All you’ll have to do is memorize them, and by the party, your court manners will be the best in the realms. I promise.”

Magic zings through me with the vow. I look at Griffin. “A lot will be riding on you, on your welcoming the nobles with a wolf’s smile. They need to know you’ll rip their throats out if they cross you.” I can’t help adding, “It shouldn’t be too hard. Just act like usual.”

“Like this?” He gives me a ferocious grin that’s all teeth.

I roll my eyes. “Yes, exactly like that.”

Everyone laughs, and I realize what he just did. He put his entire family at ease when they were on the verge of panicking. Mother would have reveled in the fear and fanned the flames of panic until we were all crashing into each other like frightened goats.

I turn to Egeria. “You’re
Alpha
. You rule everyone and everything, from the highest noble down to the last speck of dust in this realm. Remember that, but still do that smile of yours—the one for widows and orphans. It’s what makes you different.”

Egeria blinks at me, nodding automatically.

Nerissa studies me over the rim of her wineglass. “Your bluntness is refreshing, Cat. Life is always so much simpler when people say what they really think.”

My heartbeat falters before accelerating. I’m pretty sure something about Griffin and me—especially me—was just thrown across the table again.

“What about you?” Griffin asks.

For a second, I have no idea what he’s talking about. “What about me?”

“You’ll be there to read people.” He waves his hands around. “Soothsayer, remember?”

I almost laugh.
Almost
. “I’ll pose as a servant.”

His eyebrows slam down. “No.”

“What do you mean,
no
? It doesn’t matter wh—”

“You’ll be Jocasta’s friend,” Griffin decides, cutting me off. “Her companion. You live at the castle.”

I chew my lip. “That sounds reasonable. What do you think?” I ask, turning to Jocasta.

“I think it would be lovely to have you as a friend,” she answers.

Warmth spreads through me.
Gah!
When did I turn so emotional?

“Won’t people wonder why Jocasta has a Fisan friend?” Carver asks. “She’s from the south. You’re from the north. Your eyes give you away.”

I give him a flat stare. “Let’s just say she picked me up at the circus.”

Egeria clears her throat and glances at the ceiling frescoes. Everyone else decides it’s a good time to eat.

After a while, Nerissa breaks the silence with a story about how Griffin got chased by a bull when he was young, and that’s when he got serious about swords. “He was determined always to have something longer, pointier, and sharper than that bull’s horns.”

“It was the Minotaur,” Griffin rumbles. “As big as a house.”

Nerissa’s lips twitch. “It was old Cosmo from the field across the river.”

I smile, my mind filling with the image of a black-haired scamp running from a crotchety old bull, the boy’s legs pinwheeling.

“Speaking of creatures,” Egeria says, “the other advisors were just telling me about Dragons. Apparently, I need one.”

“It’s not urgent,” I tell her.

She looks surprised. “But we’re the only realm without.”

“Fisa doesn’t have one, either.”

Egeria frowns. “What happened to Sybaris?”

“She’s dead,” I say. No further explanation necessary.

“Cat killed her,” Carver announces, earning my death glare.

“That’s not
exactly
true,” Griffin says.

“Fine. Cerberus killed her, but Cat had Cerberus,” Carver clarifies.

“Oh, that’s helpful!” I cry.

Carver shrugs. “They’re family. You can trust them.”

“Like I can trust you?” I fume.

“You had Cerberus?” Piers is looking at me. He even set down his scroll. “How?”

So much for secrets.
“Hades gave him to me. In case of emergency.”

Nearly every face around the table turns a shade paler.
Huh
. That stunned everyone into silence.

“You converse with Gods?” Egeria finally chokes out.

“Not usually.” I stand. “Ladies, let’s curtsy.”

In a sword fight the next morning, Carver spanks me in every way imaginable. Since I don’t actually want to hurt him, there’s not much I can do except get better with a blade. After, he leaves with Piers, who has concocted some scheme to get urchins off the streets by recruiting them for building projects. In exchange for food, clothing, and shoes, they’ve started repairing weak spots in the city’s south wall.

Griffin is busy with Egeria on healing center plans and realm dinner preparations, so that leaves Kato, Flynn, and me to occupy ourselves. We throw knives in the woods, wrestle—which never works out well for me—run, exercise the horses, and bathe in our respective bathhouses. At dinner that evening, the royal family bickers and laughs; I kick Griffin as often as possible; Nerissa scolds me; Anatole eats like the Minotaur now that he’s feeling better; and Egeria asks questions I don’t want to answer. After dessert, I show the ladies how to stretch their necks to look down their noses at people who are taller than they are. Later, I collapse in my bed, exhausted, and wake up screaming, tangled up with Kato and Flynn. Grown men whisper “Shhh” in my ear and pat my head. I feel like an idiot, but I don’t want them to stop.

The next day—repeat.

Little changes over the next week except that Daphne gets bolder. I catch her lurking outside my door, and she threatens me twice in the bathhouse.

“I had Griffin until you showed up.” If she bit me, I swear I’d feel venom.

A weight settles in my chest. “Take him back. I don’t want him.”

“It’s about what
he
wants!” Her look is scathing, as if she can’t fathom what he sees in me.

“Then I guess you’re out of luck.” If there’s one thing Griffin has made clear, it’s what he wants.

She strikes, claws bared. I mostly avoid her fingernails, but one still gouges my chin. I dive underwater to dilute the blood. While I’m under, I drag Daphne down with me and hold her there until she almost drowns.

“Really?” I taunt. “You’re a soldier, and the best you can do is scratch?”

She recovers faster than I thought she would and punches me in the eye. I guess I asked for that. I punch her back hard enough to make her nose bleed.

“Now you’ve ruined the bath.” I grab her hair, dunk her, and give her a good shake before letting her back up. She wrenches out of my hold and attacks with practiced, forceful moves, but I’m like a fish in the water, slippery, and nothing connects.

Daphne finally gives up and pokes at her nose. “You’re nothing to him. A passing fancy. And now you’re whoring for the rest of Beta Team, too.”

“Is that so?” I ask frostily.

“I see you going into their rooms. At night, I see them going into yours.”

That also means she knows I’m screaming my head off at the time. “Don’t you have anything better to do than to watch me?”

“Oh, I’m watching you.”

My eyes narrow. Threats bring out my natural instincts. “I have no mercy,” I say, shoving her away from me. “Touch me again and you’ll regret it.”

* * *

Griffin comes to collect me for dinner and finds me with Kato and Flynn. He doesn’t look happy about it and steers me back to my room with a possessive hand on the small of my back. Except for a few advisory moments here and there, some of them contrived just to get me into the castle, I think, I hardly see him except in the evenings. It’s obvious he doesn’t like my spending most of my day without him, especially in the company of other men.

“What happened to your chin?” he asks, his concern tinged with jealous aggression.

I touch the scratch. “Nothing. Just a cut.”

“Is there anything to worry about?”

I shake my head, but his eyes narrow, and he takes my arm to pull me closer. His warm, strong fingers make my pulse race.

“You’re not planning on mauling me again, are you?” I try to pull away, but my effort feels disgustingly halfhearted.

He doesn’t respond, brushing his fingertips just under my eye. It must be turning colors. Tomorrow, it’ll be hideous.

“What’s this?” he demands. He’s close enough that his masculine scent teases my senses—sun, citrus, and something uniquely Griffin’s that’s increasingly hard to resist.

“Nothing.” I turn my head from him.

He turns it back, his tone sharpening to a dangerous edge. “Who hit you?”

Not answering, I fold my arms across my chest, creating a barrier between us. He unfolds them and takes my hands in his, holding on to them. His are steady and warm and so large that mine feel lost in them.

“You don’t have to handle everything on your own, Cat. And I need to know what’s going on. Egeria may be Alpha, but I’m king of this army. You’re part of my team. An attack on you can’t go unpunished.”

A warm feeling I don’t like at all spreads through me. I can’t afford to depend on anyone for protection. My life doesn’t work that way. “The guys and I get into scuffles all the time. I probably just ran into one of their elbows with my face.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

Argh! He always knows!
“What if I don’t tell?”

He backs me against the wall, a wolfish smile spreading across his face. My heart kicks into a faster rhythm, and a nervous thrill flutters in my belly. I’ve seen how creative people can get with a wall.

His voice a low rumble, he angles his head toward mine. “Then you’ll be punished, too.”

My breathing turns shallow. Tingles skim down my spine. “How?”
Good Gods! Was that
my
voice?

He takes his time answering, all the while devouring me with his eyes. Apparently only satisfied when my skin catches fire, he finally dips his head and murmurs in my ear, “Spanking?”

Traitorous anticipation streaks through me on a flash of white-hot desire. Faster than I can blink, he pulls me against him, fitting our bodies together like two pieces of a sizzling puzzle. I gasp, wondering if spanking is a metaphor again.

“Don’t even think about it,” I say sternly, tilting my head back to look at him. I shouldn’t have. His eyes are dark, intense, and full of things I can’t have, but can’t help thinking about. Thinking about in detail.
Explicit
detail.

Stop.

Stop now.

Stop!

Griffin looks down at me, his smoldering gaze making me want to dive headlong into disaster. His big hand circles my thigh, lifting it to hook my leg around his hip. I’m forced to grab his shoulders for balance. There’s not a whisper of air between us. His swelling hardness presses against my lower abdomen. Fear and excitement whirl through me in a wild dance. I’m catching fire, burning up. I feel like Icarus too close to the sun—and we all know how
that
turned out.

Griffin’s free hand settles on my waist before sliding a light, fiery caress along my ribs to the outer swell of my breast. Sensation ripples through me, and I shiver.

His eyes turn hooded. “Or I could kiss the information out of you,” he says, leaning in.

I panic and jerk back, hitting my head on the wall. “It was some blonde woman. She doesn’t like me. It’s not important.”

He straightens, frowning. “Who?”

If he can’t guess, it just shows how insignificant Daphne is to him, despite what she obviously thinks. The knot that unwinds inside me is proof of everything I keep refusing to admit. The realization makes my stomach cramp.

“Don’t worry about it. She looks worse than I do. She won’t bother me again.”

Griffin hovers a moment longer and then retreats. Goose bumps spread the length of my body. The only time I’m ever cold is after being too close to his heat.

His expression turns rock-hard. “Whoever she is, if she touches you again, she’ll be punished.”

His voice is flat and deceptively casual, reminding me of the ruthless warlord I met at the circus fair. Strange how he’s become just Griffin to me, smiling often, the keystone of his family, jealous, overbearing, fun to torment, strong, with an amazing mouth that turns me into a hot, molten volcano about to explode…

I clear my throat. “She’ll be punished? Not by spanking, I assume.”

I realize I just flirted, or teased, or something equally awful, and my face flames kalaberry red.

Humor brightens Griffin’s eyes, and I blurt, “I’m still seriously considering stabbing you in your sleep.”

He smiles. “You don’t want to.”

“I’ll take that bet.”

“You’d miss me,” he says confidently.

I roll my eyes, letting him know what I think of that bit of arrogant absurdity.

“You’d miss this.” He swoops down and kisses me, his lips softly urgent. Incredibly enticing. It’s all I can do not to open for him, to let him invade me, and to conquer him in return. I want to throw my arms around his neck, press myself against him, and tangle my tongue with his so much it hurts.

Need unfurls inside me—a deep ache coupled with a deeper longing. The wings in my chest beat, confined and unsatisfied. I fight them. Fight him. Fight myself.

I nearly melt under the warm pressure of Griffin’s mouth as he tries coaxing me into kissing him back. I don’t. I
won’t
. I do my best to ignore the hot throb between my legs and the restless tension coiling inside me, and cage a scream of yearning and frustration and rage. He sets me ablaze. He makes me
want
. If it were only physical, I might just give in. I wouldn’t care what happens to him because of me, or what he’ll think of me once he
knows
.

After another scalding brush of his lips over mine, Griffin lifts his head. His rough thumbs stroke a burning path along my jaw, and his glittering silver eyes nearly make me reach out with both hands to take what he’s offering. Instead, I steel myself and scrape the back of my hand across my mouth. “That was worse than goat cheese.”

Not really.

Not at all.

Gods, I hate my life.

Griffin laughs, grabs my hand, and drags me out of the barracks.

“Not easily discouraged, are you?” I mutter.

He shepherds me across the courtyard, Athena watching with flat eyes. “Do you think I could have conquered Sinta if I were easily discouraged?”

I glare at him.
I guess not.

He deposits me at the table before stalking back to the doors for a word with the guards. One leaves immediately.

My eye must get worse over dinner. By the end of the meal, the women are fawning over me like a flock of incredibly irritating mother hens. I flap my hands to keep them back. “Shoo! Or I’ll give all of
you
black eyes.”

Kaia frowns. “Are you supposed to threaten us?” She turns to Griffin, flouncing prettily in her seat. “Is Cat supposed to threaten us?”

He nods. “It means she likes you.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Kaia smiles brightly anyway. “I like you too, Cat.”

Griffin grins, obviously pleased with himself.

“You’ll pay for that,” I whisper so Nerissa won’t hear.

Griffin arches an eyebrow and discreetly mimes spanking between our two chairs. I seriously consider bolting, binding vow or not.

“I have an herbal remedy for that,” Nerissa says, grabbing my chin and forcing my face toward the lamplight. “Stay in the castle tonight, and I’ll make it up for you,” she offers.

“There’s no reason to return to the barracks every night,” Jocasta says. “You’d be much more comfortable here.”

“That would be lovely.” Kaia joins the campaign with an enthusiastic bounce. “And I have an excess of night garments positively loitering in my dressing room. You
must
come look at them.”

Kaia has a tutor now. She’s starting to sound like a real princess. It’s annoying.

I scowl at Griffin. I don’t, in fact, have any nightclothes. “You were supposed to take me shopping.”

He looks surprised. “I thought Jocasta took care of everything.”

“I only brought Cat dinner clothes.” Jocasta turns to me. “I didn’t know you needed anything else.”

Griffin frowns. “It’ll have to wait. I’m going away.”

“Fantastic!” I force an exaggerated smile, my stomach suddenly off-kilter.

“Cat…” A growl starts deep in his throat.

“We have everything Cat needs here,” Nerissa cuts in, putting a stop to what would likely become a thundering argument. “The previous royals had enough clothing to last a lifetime.”

I’m sure that’s true, but I need real clothes, like pants, which I’m pretty sure the former princesses never wore. But that’s an argument for another day. “I’ll stay at the barracks,” I say, coming back to the original point. “But thank you for the offer.”

“I’ll still set aside some nightclothes for you,” Kaia promises cheerfully.

I’m surprised when Kato and Flynn enter the dining room before I leave. “Take Cat back with you,” Griffin orders. “And, Cat, lock your door.”

There’s no chance of that. If I do, Kato and Flynn can’t get in, and I’ve gotten used to them tackling me in the middle of the night and patting my head. “I don’t need an escort. This is ridiculous.”

“Follow your orders.” Griffin’s tone is brusque, his attention on Kato and Flynn. “Be ready at dawn. We leave for Ios in the morning.”

We do?
“Good. Panotii needs the exercise. And why didn’t anyone tell me we were leaving for the healing center site?”

Griffin glances my way. “Not you. You’re staying here.”

“What? Why?”

“You’ll be safer.”

“No!” Something close to panic rises in me. I don’t understand it. I don’t know where it’s coming from. And I
don’t
like it.

Irritation flashes in his eyes. “Stop arguing about everything. It’s infuriating.”

I blink, surprised. How dare he order me around?
Me!
“You can’t—”

“I can, and I will,” he cuts me off.

“You arrogant son of a Cy—”

Griffin latches his hand around my wrist and jerks me toward him. “You were saying?” he asks coolly.

Sparks erupt from my nostrils, singeing his tunic. My eyes follow a glowing ember to his throat with its hard, lean lines, corded muscles, and masculine hollow. Flush against him, it’s hard to hold on to my anger. Awareness flares at every point of contact, kindling a foolish, fevered craving.