A Promise of Fire (27 page)

Heat crashes through me. I instantly see the starry sky, feel the rough stones…and Griffin’s hard body.

His hands glide up my ribs, his wide palms brushing the outer swells of my breasts before sliding back down to my waist again. His glittering silver eyes turn heavy-lidded. “I wanted to push you against the wall, rip those tight pants off you, and bury myself in your heat.”

My lips part as arousing, carnal, appealingly rough images flood my mind.

Griffin’s fingers press into my sides. “I might have left the boots.”

I suck in a quick, shallow breath as my imagination supplies a vivid picture. The night cloaking us in darkness. My legs clinging to his waist. My back scraping the wall. Griffin’s hands gripping my hips, grinding me down on him while he thrusts into me with powerful, driving strokes.

The tension inside me turns volcanic, growing molten, wanting to fracture, needing to explode. My whole body starts pulsing with a single-minded chant.
Take. Me. Take. Me. Take. Me.

Ignoring the urgent call to join with Griffin is like cutting myself in half. “Was this before or after I turned poisonous?” I ask tartly, sounding only a little unsteady.

“
Weeks
before.” He presses his lips to mine for a slow, seductive kiss. Then his mouth turns more insistent. Hungrier. “And every day after.”

His words sink into me, working their way into my very foundation. Every time he kisses me, or touches me, or tells me something I secretly long to hear, I feel changed, irrevocably altered.

“And when you realized I was younger?”

Griffin’s lips curve into that heart-stopping smile of his. “When you popped back into sight scrubbed clean and looking twenty years younger, I knew I’d found something special.”

I grin like an idiot.

“And full of hot air.”

Wait. What?
I scowl, and he laughs, leaning in to capture my mouth again. He kisses me so deeply that I can’t tell where he ends and I begin. Holding my hips, he rocks me forward and up, sliding me along the steely length of his arousal. I gasp, desire streaking through me. He guides me against him again, harder this time, and my blood simmers, my core muscles straining for more—more contact, more friction, more…
filling
.

My eyes drift shut. A torrent of sensation overwhelms me. “This is madness. How can madness feel so good?”

His response is guttural, unintelligible, and makes me tremble with need. I push up on my knees, sliding along his erection in an effort to ease the growing ache between my thighs. A tremor racks his solid frame. I do it again, and Griffin’s fingers convulse on my hips. A groan tears from his throat.

His hands and mouth make me wild. I arch my back and press into him, hoping it’ll relieve some of the mounting pressure, but my gut just tightens with longing, and the friction of our bodies makes me insatiable for more. Slick between my legs, pulsing with liquid heat, driven by a crescendo of unbridled want, I swirl my hips and scatter hot, open-mouthed kisses along his neck and jaw, flicking my tongue over his skin to taste him.

A harsh breath explodes from Griffin. He wrenches me down, grinding roughly. My breathing quickens. My knees spread until there’s not a whisper of air between us, only scalding need and his burning arousal. My fingers spear into his hair. My thighs clench, clasping his hips as I rub against him, moaning his name.

Griffin shudders. Then his fingers sink into my backside, his iron grip putting an abrupt stop to my writhing. He holds me still, and I whimper a protest. Tightening nerves, spiraling sensations, throbbing heat, and a thrilling pressure low in my belly—something earth-shattering isn’t far off. Thunder claps in my ears, and I get the nearly uncontrollable urge to tear off my pants.

Can’t do that!

I jerk back so fast I nearly fall over. “We have to stop!”

With a low growl, Griffin grabs me and pulls me back. I land on his chest with a thud.

“Cat.” His arms lock around me. He sounds tormented.

Panting, I push off his chest again and sit up, shoving hair out of my face. “Griffin!”

“Why?” he asks hoarsely. “Why do we have to stop?”

My eyes widen. “There are so many reasons I don’t even know where to start!”

He rolls his hips, sending desire roaring through me. “You’re sure?” he asks.

No!
“Yes!”

He clasps the back of my head and kisses a searing path down my neck, each ragged breath accompanied by a rhythmic thrust of his hips. “This is what it could be like,
kardia mou
. We were made for each other. Just imagine it.”

I am. I really am. My head falls back, and my whole body goes limp without ever consulting me. Just when I’m mindlessly following his tempo again, heady sensations coiling where our bodies meet, Griffin stops moving and drops his forehead to mine. He draws in a slow, labored breath, lifts me off his lap, and sets me on the ground next to him.

My jaw nearly unhinges.
What? Now?
I’m throbbing. It’s delicious. It’s excruciating. It’s…
incomplete
. I almost crawl back on top of him and tell him to finish what he started. “You’re meaner than a Cyclops.”

His smile looks pained.

I scowl, making a sound of frustration.

“Was that a growl?” he asks. His chest rises and falls like he’s been running for hours.

“Maybe.” I throw him a dirty look.

Ignoring my crankiness, he decides that now is apparently a good time to unwrap my wrist and inspect the cut. He checks the fresh scab before binding it again with a clean cloth and then soaking the old one with water. My heart rate calming, I draw my legs up under me and sit there, fevered tension draining from me, annoyingly content to let Griffin take care of me.

“I’m going to check in with the others. I’ll be back soon,” he says, raising my knuckles to his lips. “Stay here and rest.”

I nod, watching him dim the lamp and then leave the tent, my hand still tingling.

I miss him while he’s gone, which is a rather terrifying thing to admit, even to myself. When he comes back, I’m more than ready for him to sit with me again and gather me close. He sees me still awake and waiting for him and doesn’t disappoint.

“Earlier…” I clear my throat, leaning against him. “You stopped because I asked you to?”

Griffin’s chin brushes the top of my head, slowly rubbing. “Yes. And because you were making enough noise to wake the entire camp.”

“I was not!” I cry, outraged.

He chuckles. “That, and I was about three seconds from ripping your clothes off and sinking into you. I’m not sure you’re ready for that.”

Heat floods me. My heart slams against my ribs. I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready for that.

“You should be stronger first.”

“I told you, I can’t.” So I really need to stop imagining it.

“Don’t delude yourself, Cat. Where do you think this is going to end up?”

His words knock the breath from my lungs.
Is he right? Are my only options to leave him or give in?

I glance at his profile. Broad cheekbones, strong jaw, hawkish nose, everything shadowed in the faint light. He’s so steady and sure, the exact opposite of me. For that alone, I never want to give him up. With every touch, every word, he shows me that life can be different from what I’ve always known, different enough to dull my past, and forget my future. Even the prophecy fades. Around him, I’m just a woman, not the woman who will destroy the world.

I pluck at my fresh bandage, and Griffin wraps his fingers around mine. “You’ll unravel the knot,” he says, keeping my hand in his.

Warmth travels from my hand straight to my heart. For Griffin, life isn’t drawn in absolutes, but it’s pretty black and white. He won’t settle for less than what he thinks we should have, and I…I…

I don’t know what to do.

He drags the flask of Fisan clover water over, opens it, and hands it to me. I drink and then hand it back.

“Good,” he says, trying it for the first time. “Like cool spring mornings and sweetness.”

Cool spring mornings and sweetness.
Eleni.
I take a deep breath. It shudders on the way out.

“You all right?” he asks, rubbing my back.

I nod, uncomfortable taking comfort from another human being, being cared for, sharing. Clearly, I’ve fallen off the deep end.

Can I go back to being alone?

I doubt Griffin would let me. He’d tie me up with his magic rope if he had to.

I smile, ducking my head to hide it. “You make me weak.”

He stills. Even his breathing goes quiet. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t bleed anymore. The Gods only know what my blood has done to yours.”

“What’s in your blood, Cat?”

I bite my lip. “Just be careful.”

“You’re not weak.” He sounds confident. Calm. “You and me, we’re strong. Together, we’ll be unstoppable.”

His breath stirs my hair. His chin is right there, so I scratch my forehead against the dark stubble and lay my hand on his knee.
What’s one hand on the knee? Nothing, right?

“I’ll give myself up.” The second I say it, I know it’s true. I already did it once, with Sybaris, and that was before any of this.

His arm tenses around me so much it hurts. “What are you talking about?”

I tilt my head until our eyes meet. Even in the near darkness, Griffin’s are like a storm. “Andromeda won’t be coming for me anymore. If she figures this out, she’ll be coming for you.”

Back in Sinta City, I’m fawned over to a nauseating extent by the women in Griffin’s family. Egeria is suffocating and always trying to give me food. Nerissa wants to cure me with herbal concoctions that taste like goat cheese, and Kaia is too excitable, wanting to know every detail about everything, all the time, right away, bounce, bounce, bounce.

Anatole isn’t much better. Every time he sees me he says, “Melted? You just
melted
them?”

“Like candle wax,” I answer for the millionth time.

The old man looks gleeful. There’s a familiar and alarming twinkle in his eyes. Ruthlessness must be hereditary—not that I had any doubt. “I wish I could have seen it.”

Really? It was kind of gross.

My Dragon’s Breath is hiding somewhere deep. I feel it, but I’m not strong enough to access it. Invisibility works most of the time. I’m too weak to run, ride, spar, or even throw knives, which means I’m irritable and bored. When I’m not sleeping, I test the family on their new knowledge of Sintan nobles, their backgrounds, and their magical abilities to help prepare everyone for the realm dinner. Arming them with information is crucial. Continued success can hinge on small things, or in this case, a big party.

Griffin thinks I need more blood. I won’t do it. Not here. If I’m making Castle Sinta my home, I refuse to compromise it. He settles for exchanging saliva as often as possible, and his deep, hungry kisses must be working because I’m getting better. Physically. Mentally, I’m a mess. I keep lurking in places Griffin might find me and then running away when I hear him coming. I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my entire life, except possibly freedom from the miasma of plots, treachery, and revenge that make up court life. The problem is, I can’t have both.

Thank the Gods there’s Jocasta. She’s normal, except when she’s making me eat. Then, she’s frightening. Despite Egeria’s and her constant efforts, my stomach is still the size of a shriveled-up grape and tries to reject just about everything that goes in. After I almost throw up on her three times, Jocasta asks me if I’m pregnant.

My eyes pop wide open, feeling huge. “No!”

She shrugs. “I saw you kissing Griffin.”

“And you think I just fell on my back?”

“He’s very good-looking.”

“That’s no reason!”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t…” She waves her hands around.

Can’t say it, huh?
“No, we haven’t…” I wave my hands around.
Can’t say it either, I guess.

“But things have changed. Anyone can see that. I don’t think you’ve kicked Griffin at the dinner table once.”

“I haven’t,” I say, just a little bit disgusted with myself.

“You should.”

“Kick him?”

“Fall on your back.”

She sounds very sure. Not that I’m planning on doing anything like that, but I’m sort of worried about the whole process, especially with someone Griffin’s size. Just imagining the wall of muscle above me and his weight pressing me into the bed makes me shiver, and I’m not sure how much is anticipation and how much is trepidation. Not to mention that I’ve felt him hard and ready for the act. I desperately wanted him inside me at the time, but in retrospect, I’m not convinced he would fit.

“Do you just fall on your back?” I ask.

Jocasta laughs, but the sound isn’t very merry. “With brothers like mine, no one comes near me.”

In her case, “no one” means Flynn. “Does he know how you feel?”

She sighs, focusing on the wall. “I really don’t know.”

I squeeze her hand, feel weird about it, and pull my fingers back. “Marrying you would mean a different life for him. There are rules and obligations. Responsibilities.”

“There are rules and obligations in any situation.”

“Well, simple ones,” I agree. “Right now, Flynn’s are basic. Follow orders. Keep your weapons clean. Don’t kill a man just because you don’t like his face. Don’t yank down your pants and scratch your ass.”

Jocasta bursts out laughing.

I make a face. “Oh Gods. Now I’m picturing Flynn’s ass.”

“Me too.” Her blue eyes sparkle, and I’m pretty sure she likes what her imagination has conjured up a lot more than I do.

“Flynn’s a great warrior, but he’s never had to be a leader. Suddenly being part of a ruling family can be intimidating.” I nudge her arm. “As you know.”

“And you,” she answers, nudging me back.

I feel the blood wash from my face. “What do you mean?”

“Just that you’re practically part of the family, and Griffin will make it official sooner or later.”

My insides freeze solid. “I don’t function well in families. And that’s not his decision to make.”

Jocasta laughs. “You fit in perfectly. We all love you, and Griffin has never been so focused, not even when he was taking over the realm. You’re everything to him. More than any of this.” She sweeps her hand out, indicating not just the castle, but the whole of Sinta, I think.

The ice inside me melts. Suddenly, I’m burning up and terrified, scared I’ll be too weak to resist.

Scratch that—I’m petrified I’ve already given in.

* * *

As soon as I can cross the courtyard without my head spinning, I try to move back into the barracks. Griffin gave me his room and moved down the hall, but I can’t help thinking he’s planning on moving back in. Soon. With me still in the room. A few buildings between us would definitely help keep me sane.

He catches wind of my packing after dinner and arrives in my room with his eyebrows drawn down, his arms crossed, and only one word to say.

“
No?
” I repeat, incredulous.

“Do you need me to say it in sign language?”

I roll my eyes. “That won’t be necessary.”

“Obviously it is.” He puts his hands on my hips, backs me against the wall, and then kisses me until I can’t breathe. Or think. Or stand up, apparently, because I stumble when he lets go.

He steadies me, a satisfied smile curving his amazing lips.

“Don’t look so smug,” I say, panting. “I fall down all the time these days.”

“Not when you’re standing still.” He drags his tunic over his head.

I stare, and he flexes.

“Show-off,” I mutter.

He grins and drops the tunic over my head. “So you won’t scream bloody murder,” he says, backing out of the room.

His shirt falls to my knees. I punch my arms through the sleeves, make a rude hand gesture, and then slam the bedroom door.

Missing him already, I crawl into Griffin’s big bed, curled up in Griffin’s big shirt, and go to sleep wondering if it really matters what I do when no one can see.

* * *

With my continued guidance, the realm dinner preparations are well in hand and the royal family is irreproachable in their court etiquette and memorization of facts. As soon as I’m able, I also go back to supervising the rebuilding of the north wall. I get Flynn and Kato to help and Jocasta and Kaia to bring out picnics.

After we got back from Ios, I suggested employing some of the older children as servants in the castle. We need extra hands for the realm dinner, and in general. The castle servants from before mostly ran off during the takeover, and used to a simpler life, no one here felt the need to replace them until now. The children who were old enough jumped at the chance to make money for their families, and the Sintan royals now have adoring, loyal servants. A house full of children who love you eventually turns into a house full of adults who would defend you to the death. That’s something Andromeda would never understand.

Jocasta and Kaia took them all, marching them back to the castle for a good scrubbing and their new uniforms. We replaced our missing wall builders the next day, starting again with food and fun. The new children still eat like they’re starving even though their bones are no longer visible, and their faces don’t look sunken or hollow. They work fast and well, always leaving us time to organize games after lunch so they won’t have to work during the hottest part of the day.

Flynn doesn’t interact with Jocasta beyond common courtesies, and I learn that he’s known her since before she could walk, which isn’t promising for what Jocasta has in mind. It’s like she said, no one comes near her, and he and Kato seem more interested in impressing the children than impressing the princesses. They haul the heaviest rocks, tease the boys, show them fighting moves, and encourage them to join the army when they’re older. They’re strong, handsome, and fun, and the boys worship them.

If Jocasta almost never looks at Flynn, and Kaia looks too much at Kato, the men don’t seem to notice. What
I
notice is that I end up the hub of this great big wheel, and without me, all the spokes would go flying. It’s as bad inside the castle as it is out. If Griffin isn’t around, everyone defers to me.
Me!
How in the Underworld did
that
happen? Now, I have to organize, direct, plan, and practically throw certain people together.
Gods! I hate responsibility.

Two days before the realm dinner, the children march ahead of us on the way back to the main gate, singing a bawdy song Kato really shouldn’t have taught them. Kaia is turning kalaberry red, and Jocasta is pretending not to hear.

I casually slide my foot to the side and trip her.

Jocasta lets out an oath I’m surprised she even knows and then glares up at me from the ground, her cheeks flushed pink and a dark curl bouncing over one eye.
Perfect
.

“Oh, no! You tripped on a root.” I crouch down and poke her leg. “You twisted your ankle.”

“No, I—”

“You can’t walk,” I cut her off. “Flynn, you’ll have to carry her.”

Jocasta snaps her mouth shut, her sapphire eyes shooting blue fire. Flynn bends down and scoops her up. She links her arms around his neck, blushing furiously.

Ha!
That was easy enough. I grab Kato and pull him ahead.

“Don’t hold hands with me. If Griffin sees, he’ll have me dismembered.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m not holding your hand. I’m dragging you away.”

“Why?”

“I’ll explain when you’re older.”

He grins. “Don’t get your hopes up. She shouldn’t, either.”

“Why? She’s beautiful.”

“Beauty isn’t the problem. It’s rank.”

“I’m a nobody from the circus, and Griffin still wants me.”

Kato scoffs. “A nobody?”

“You look like Adonis,” I say, rolling right over his skepticism. “I’m surprised it’s not you she wants.”

“I’m saving myself for Kaia,” he answers with a perfectly straight face.

I snort a laugh.

“Jocasta is
good
,” Kato says. “Flynn is
good
.”

“And you’re not?”

His broad shoulders lift in a shrug. “Flynn carried her home after she fell out of a tree when she was six or seven. There’s no competing with that.”

No, I suppose not.

“How’s the sleeping?” he asks.

“I miss you patting my head.” I mean to sound flippant, but I don’t.

He glances at me, suddenly serious. “Nightmares?”

I shake my head.

“Because you’re sleeping with Griffin?”

“I am
not
sleeping with Griffin! I’m sleeping in his room.” In his tunic. In his bed… “It’s completely different.”

Kato’s eyebrows creep up. “I see.”

He drags the word out. It’s annoying, so I shove him, but he doesn’t even react. No playful tussle. No quick grappling. No
fun
.

Frustrated, I cry, “I’m not made of glass!”

His arm shoots out. He pushes me, and I careen off to the side, nearly falling over.

Kato gives me a significant look. “I’ll wrestle you to the ground when you can handle it.”

Scowling, I glance back at Flynn and Jocasta as I stumble onto the path again. She’s stiff, and he’s staring straight ahead. “What’s wrong with those two? They could at least try.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Kato says.

“Why?”

He gives my hair an affectionate ruffle. “Because I’m wondering the same thing about you.”

* * *

I should have known Griffin wouldn’t wait forever. After dinner, and a long time going over all our strategies to win support at the realm dinner, he doesn’t leave me outside the bedroom as usual. He follows me in, shutting the door with a decisive click.

“What are you doing?” I back up, keeping an eye on him.

He takes two steps, cups my face in his hands, and kisses me ravenously. “I want you. I need you. For as many hours as possible, I don’t want to think about anything but you.”

My heart gives a desperate lurch. Griffin pulls me into his arms and kisses a scorching line along my jaw and down my neck, gently scraping his teeth over my hammering pulse.

“You need a lot of things,” I say, already breathless. “Like a Dragon. That doesn’t mean you’ll get one.”

“I don’t give a Centaur’s balls about a Dragon right now.”

“Griffin! Language!”

“Are you trying to sound like my mother?” he growls against my neck.

“Is it like a bucket of ice?”

He picks me up and tosses me onto the bed. “What do you think?”

I land with an undignified grunt. I think not.

He crawls on top of me, pins my arms above my head, and plants his mouth on my breast, sucking my nipple right through my dress. I yelp and twist, pleasure exploding under his mouth. Desire arcs through me. I pull on my hands, wanting to touch him, but Griffin’s grip tightens as he uses his teeth to pull down the neckline of my gown. My breasts pop out, pushed up like an offering. We both stare at the bare skin, at the dark peaks. Then he dips his head and licks one nipple. Heat rushes to my belly. He swirls his tongue over the taut bud before turning to the other side and sucking hard enough to lift me off the bed. I gasp, the drag of his mouth stirring an aching pull deep inside me.

I arch toward him, already damp with arousal. His erection presses against the most intimate part of me, sparking hot jolts of sensation every time he moves. He sucks, licks, and rocks while I writhe under him, my trapped hands curling into fists. Mindlessness sets in, feeling driving away thought.