On the Move (5 page)

Chapter Seven

Griffin’s limp grew more pronounced the further they walked. Addison was more worried about the blood running down his leg. It seemed to come from the wounds in his stomach. But he’d pulled his cape close and she hadn’t gotten a good look at any of his injuries.

“How far to your home?” She could hear the concern in her voice and it was clear Griffin heard it as well. He glanced down at her, the imperious expression she was used to seeing on his face melting away.

“Half the morning, maybe less.”

“That far!” Half the morning meant nothing to her, but it seemed like an impossible amount of distance to cover, especially for an injured man.

“It’s not that far. It’s closer than you think.”

He was wincing with each step, his stride uneven. “But you’re badly injured, losing blood. We should…”

“I am fine, Addison. Shifters heal faster than humans. By the time we’re home, I’ll be well.”

“Even the broken hand?”

He held out his hand. It was discolored and swollen, and Addison guessed there was more than one break in the bones of the hand, if not some of his fingers as well. It looked incredibly painful.

“Even the hand.”

They walked in silence for a time, Addison trailing behind Griffin on the narrow path through the jungle. Finally even that disappeared and Griffin pushed through the thick foliage, their progress slowing. Her heart sank. They’d be in the jungle for hours at this rate.

Suddenly, they broke through the thick vines and she found herself in a clearing ringed with small huts. There were shouts and before they’d gotten more than a few steps, a dozen men, and women surrounded them.

There was a distinct shift in Griffin’s demeanor. He straightened, the limp disappearing, the broken hand tucked in the folds of the cape. He strode forward, greeting his clan.

The group stopped, silence descending, as they waited for him to speak. He looked over them, meeting the eyes of each clan member.

“I am back. And I have brought a mate. She is to be welcomed into the clan.”

Addison felt ever pair of eyes shift to her and her face grew warm. She managed what she hoped was a confident smile, something befitting the mate of their leader as whispers of the group washed over her. There were open looks of approval from the men, and shy smiles from the women.

“I am no longer just your clan leader. I am now the leader of all the clans.” There was a stunned moment of silence and then voices rose around them, questions filling the air.

Griffin raised his unbroken hand. “I defeated Xavier in an honorable challenge. He is dead, as is Kade. His clan is now joined with Ramos’. There will be changes; there will be no more raids on the villages. There will be no more clan fighting.”

A cheer rose from the clan, startling birds from the trees. Addison saw relief on the faces of the men and women. Voices rose again, questions again bombarding him. Griffin held up his hand once more, and the voices faded to a low murmur.

“We will meet soon. But I have other duties to attend to.”

There was laughter this time. For a moment it was embarrassing, but then strangely familiar. The group broke up, moving toward the huts, small groups forming and reforming.

Addison caught the eye of the women near the back of the group. She saw that they appeared to be shifters as well, with characteristically dark skin, dark eyes, and black hair. She’d hoped, after finding Daphne among the clans, she’d be lucky enough to find other women from the expedition. Her heart sank when she realized it had been a stroke of luck Daphne had survived. The chances of more than one woman being found were slim to none.

Griffin had moved away from her, a few men of the clan surrounding him. They appeared to be guards or his lieutenants. He spoke directly to them, they nodded, and then stepped back.

“Come.” Griffin held his hand. She reached out and took it, and he led her to a hut set at the edge of the clearing. He held the pelt covering the door and she stepped inside.

The pelt dropped and they were enveloped in a soft darkness. There was a small window that let in just enough light for her to see a wide pallet bed, small stools and a trunk. It was clearly a find from a raid, a large wooden affair banded in metal, with a large hasp and padlock. It held an empty bowl and a folded stack of cloth.

“We’ll be left alone.”

She turned. Griffin stood inside the door, exhaustion and pain clearly evident on his face, in his posture, in his voice. She reached out, taking his arm, pulling him toward the bed.

“Lay down, for heaven’s sake. You’re going to faint from blood loss. Is there anything to eat? You need water, and medical care.”

Her voice rose, panic-tinged, and she stopped, taking a shaky breath. But Griffin only grinned. “I’ll lay down, when the time comes. And water and food will be brought shortly.” He dropped the cape to the floor.

She’d forgotten he was naked beneath it. She tried not to stare, but then her eyes were drawn to his wounds and she cringed. They looked ragged and bloody, far too serious for Griffin to still be standing.

“Do you have a piece of cloth? Something I can clean you up with?”

He frowned at her, not moving. She threw up her hands in frustration.

“Hasn’t anyone ever fussed over you before? Here. Sit.” She pulled him gently to one of the stools, and he sat. She picked up the cape, ripping off a strip from the bottom. At the sound of tearing fabric, Griffin blew out a frustrated breath.

“Sorry. It’s the ceremonial cape, but I think I can put it to better use getting you taken care of.”

He shrugged, then winced. “The ritual will be no more. It was no longer used for its intended purpose. Xavier had perverted it to his own ends. It was more a battle to the death among us, rather than the beautiful ritual I remember.”

There was a soft knock outside and Addison jumped.

“It is only someone with food. You may take it from her.”

Addison pulled the pelt aside. A young woman stood holding a plank with water and food. Addison took it, and the woman bowed, leaving silently. Addison watched her walk away, then went back to Griffin. She set the plank on another stool, and poured water into a bowl. Griffin reached out, his hand over hers. She glanced up at him, ready for another argument about how he didn’t need anything done for him.

“I need to tell you there will be a guard outside the hut tonight, and every night. Possibly for a long time.”

“Is that normal? Because you’re the new leader?” But she didn’t believe it was only that. She’d watched the men, both before and after the battle. The ones she knew were Xavier’s guards had really been fighting, not merely biding time while Griffin and Xavier fought. They’d caused serious wounds to the others, drawing first blood.

“Not everyone is loyal to me.”

She nodded. “I thought so. Xavier’s men are still loyal to him, to his leadership. And you’re worried.”

“I’m cautious. There is a difference. And there is no cause for you to be afraid. This village is well protected, as are we here.”

She was silent as she dipped the cloth into the bowl again and then wrung it out.

“What was the ritual like, before Xavier destroyed its true intentions?” She started with his shoulder, dabbing at the slashes that cut across his broad back. They were deep, but she thought they were actually starting to heal. Maybe the man was right, that he did have extraordinary healing powers. But he was still covered with leaves and sticky blood.

“It was a ceremony joining two mates. The cape was intended to be draped over both man and woman, after the priest blessed them.” He jerked as she pulled a leaf from one of the long cuts.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” He waved his hand dismissively. “The priest said a blessing for fertility and long life. The chant today was a war chant, something Xavier created. The priest was told to chant, under penalty of death, the war blessing, after anointing you.”

“I’m sure he’ll be happy to hear he’s not under penalty of death any longer.” The wound on his back was almost clean. She dropped the cloth into the bowl of water.

“Let me bind your hand. There’s nothing I can do for broken bones, but at least it’ll keep the ends of the breaks from rubbing together.”

“How did you learn to do this?” He watched as she tore a fresh piece of cloth from the cape.

“Give me your hand.”

Gingerly he held out the broken hand. To her amazement the swelling had gone down, but when she touched him, he flinched.

“I picked up a few things on expeditions. There’s always someone who gets hurt along the way. But never quite this severely, or intentionally.”

“There are some herbs in the other bowl. Crush them and wrap them against the skin.”

She glanced in the bowl, picking up a sprig of dried herb. “This?” She sniffed. It wasn’t anything she recognized. Griffin nodded and she crushed the herb, sprinkling it over the cloth. It released a pungent scent and she sneezed. Griffin laughed softly.

“It’s definitely a different scent.”

“This helps the bones set.”

“So you admit you have broken bones?” She smiled as she carefully wrapped the strip of cloth around his hand. The broken ends ground together beneath her fingers and she cringed. Griffin had gone a bit pale, but she knew the hand wouldn’t heal correctly, shifter or not, if some kind of wrapping wasn’t applied.

“I’ll admit…to that.” His voice was strained and she hurried to finish wrapping the hand, tying off the ends of the cloth. Griffin drew a deep breath through clenched teeth, examining his hand.

“It feels better.”

He glanced up as she laughed.

“Not by the look on your face. But I guess I can only take your word. Now, lie down and I’ll clean up the rest of your wounds.”

Griffin tossed her a look, the imperious expression returning. She was pushing his limits, and for a moment she expected him to pull away. But his expression softened.

“I’d almost forgotten how headstrong you are.” He rose, coming to his full height. She was suddenly aware of his body, the scent of him, that he was naked. It set her heart pounding and she had to look away, even though they’d slept together, and they were mated. He’d fought for her, risked his life, and come away as the winner. But he was still a stranger to her.

“I will submit to you.”

She looked up, blinking at his words. His voice was soft, but firm, and his eyes on her face were intense.

“In heart, in soul, in body, in life. From this day forward, I give my life for you. You are mine, Addison, and I am yours. And here, in this hut, I will submit to you.”

A tear slid down her check and Griffin reached out, brushing it away with his thumb. “Do not cry. Don’t be sad. I know you miss your home, your sister…”

She shook her head. “No. It’s not just that. It’s just…no one has ever…no man has ever said words like that to me.”

He shrugged. “It’s my vow to you. The vow I should have said, if we had a true ritual. Those are the words from my heart.”

She felt her face grow warm, suddenly conscious of how small the hut was, and how large the bed suddenly seemed.

“No man has ever seen the treasure you are then, and given themselves over to that. You are a rare flower, delicate but strong, beautiful but with thorns.” He smiled, his hand caressing her cheek.

“You were put in my path by the Gods, but it was my duty to see what you are, to see the gift they gave to me. I didn’t see it at first; I saw a way to get what I wanted. And that was all. But you opened my eyes.”

He leaned down, kissing her softly. She reached out, placing a hand on his chest, fingers moving over his warm skin. She’d never felt this before, this intense sense of belonging to someone, knowing they belonged to her just as deeply.

Her hands traveled lower, sliding over his taut stomach until they came across dried blood. She pulled away, looking up into his eyes.

“Lay down. Now. I’m not done with you.” With an effort she stepped away from him.

“I should hope not.” His arrogant smile was back and it set her heart pounding again. She knew behind that arrogance was a very confident man, one who had every reason to be. With his unbound hand he pulled the pelts from the pallet and sat on the edge.

“I am yours. Do with me what you will.” He laid back, unbound hand behind his head, broken hand resting on his chest. Addison looked at him, trying to focus on his wounds, but her eyes were drawn to the rest of his body, the broad shoulders, flat stomach, long legs. As hard as she tried, for a moment she was unable to do anything but stare. He was perfect, as beautiful as any man could be.

After a moment Griffin growled, an impatient sound that brought her eyes to his.

“I had something else in mind, besides just being looked at.”

She had no choice but to laugh. “I do, too. But I do need to clean these.” She tipped her heard toward his wounds.

He nodded and lay still. She sat on the edge of the bed, and focused all her attention on Griffin’s wounds. There were three gashes, running parallel to each other down his side. She gingerly washed them, parting the edges, again picking out bits of leaves. But what seemed to be deep cuts were already showing signs of healing, the wounds no longer bleeding. The blood she was wiping away was old.