A Promise of Fire (25 page)

Instinctively, I curl into the large, solid body next to mine, sighing when I detect Griffin’s familiar scent.

“Cat?”

I wiggle closer, sliding my cheek along his bare chest.

“It’s working!” He sits up, and I grumble a protest. “Easy,
kardia mou
. I’m just cutting deeper.”

My breath hitches.
His sweetheart?
Most people have forgotten the ancient language of the Gods. The tribes must have retained some endearments. No one’s ever called me anything special before, except Thanos, and I’m not sure “little monster” counts.

Griffin must cut himself first. I force my eyes open just as he’s coming at me with the knife. Everything’s blurry, but my heart still flips over at the sight of him—midnight hair, sculpted features, wide, sensual mouth, magnetic gray eyes. I could stare at him for hours.

His blade draws a line of fire across my hand. “She’ll find me,” I croak. I have no idea how long my blood’s been exposed.

“Alpha Fisa?”

I nod. Almost. You’d think I’d be used to pain by now. I still grit my teeth when he presses our hands together.

Frowning, Griffin settles me on his lap again, like he did earlier. Blood stains the front of my tunic. The shirt is Griffin’s, and it reaches my knees. He’s bare from the waist up, his skin hot and hard like sun-warmed marble. He moves his free hand up and down my spine in a slow, soothing stroke that makes me want to rub against him and purr. His hand is rough from a lifetime with a sword, powerful, and spanning half of my back. It makes me think about the times we brawled, about the restraint he must have shown to keep from snapping me in two, especially when I deserved it.

His mouth brushes the top of my head, sending warm tingles across my scalp. “We’ll leave here soon. I promise.”

“Is that a binding vow?” I’m only half joking. We have to go.

Griffin tilts my chin up until our eyes meet. “I love you, Cat. I would do anything to keep you safe. That is my binding vow.”

My heart twists so violently it hurts. “Don’t say that.”

His hand returns to its steady glide up and down my back, exploring lower with each stroke. Pleasure ripples over my skin, shivers along my spine. I melt against him, heat pooling in my abdomen and warming me from the inside out.

“Why not?” His tone is casual, but his body feels tense under mine.

I swallow, wishing I could sound as calm and sure as Griffin always does. “It makes you a target.”

His hand stills on my back, then he rolls us so that he’s on top. My eyes widen, and my heart beats faster, pumping our mixed blood to my waking limbs.

“I don’t care,” he says flatly. His storm-cloud eyes drink in my face like he’s memorizing every detail. “You’re everything to me.”

The truth of his words resonates through me like a thunderclap, and I gasp. Griffin swallows the sound with his mouth, his lips an intoxicating mix of hard strength and subtle pressure. They move over mine, seductively insistent, coaxing me to open for him. His tongue slides along the seam of my lips, and desire awakens with a hot pulse that hollows me out and makes me desperate with want.

I unlace our fingers, throw my arms around his neck, and kiss him back, pouring all the jumbled-up, foolish, crazy, confusing emotions he brings out in me into the kiss. An Olympian-powered jolt arcs through me, rousing the wings in my chest. They unfurl inside of me, and I arch off the bed, propelled into Griffin’s body.

He groans low at the contact. Wrapping his arms around me, he sweeps his tongue over mine, claiming my mouth and so much more. Passion ignites, and I forget about wings and Gods and the thunder hidden in my veins. I lose myself in his fiery embrace. Sheltered by his big body, feeling him move above me, surround me, hold me, need coils deep within. I moan at the intensity of it, and Griffin pulls back, concern darkening his eyes.

“More,” I urge breathlessly. I use what little strength I’ve gathered to pull him back, wildly seeking his lips again.

With a sound of raw desire, Griffin molds his lips to mine for another scorching kiss, cradling my head in his hands like I’m something fragile and precious. “Why did you save me?” he rasps against my lips, kissing me again. He kisses me like he can’t stop.

I take his face in my hands, smearing blood down one scruffy cheek. We stare into each other’s eyes. His are the color of a turbulent sea. I see tempests with silver linings, their deadly force raging for me. Looking at him, I feel recast, melted down and formed anew, and realize this is how lives change, how reasons for existing shift. “Because I wanted to.”

Heartbreakingly gentle, he brushes messy hair back from my face. “I thought you hated me.”

The feelings I’ve finally unleashed swell, becoming poignant to the point of pain. “I tried to hate you. It turned out to be harder than I expected.”

His sudden grin makes my heart clench. I lightly trace the crinkles at the corners of his eyes, marveling at how his gaze darkens and then heats, turning smoky and swirling with intent. Drawn by an irresistible force, I close the space between us, lifting my mouth to his, my kiss raw and open and truthful.

I started the kiss, but Griffin dominates every inch of my mouth, his fierce tenderness setting off explosions of excitement deep in my belly. I move against him, caught between restlessness and hunger, clinging to his shoulders and grinding my hips. My knees come up, giving me more of the contact I crave. My hands glide over his broad back, exploring his masculine strength.

Griffin rakes his lips down my throat to where my pulse pounds in my neck, sucking lightly on the thundering beat. My breath turns unsteady. I sink my fingers into his hair and hold him close. He grips my thigh and lifts me into him so that his hard, thick length presses against my core. I’m naked under his tunic, and the sudden, intimate contact makes me dizzy with arousal. Dampness floods the space between my legs.

Breathing raggedly, Griffin dips his head into the curve of my neck. He shifts to the side, bracing himself on one forearm and smoothing his large hand down my body. His fingers skim back up my ribs, taking my tunic with them and leaving sizzling anticipation in their wake. He slides the material off me inch by inch, baring my body to his avid gaze.

“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.” He cups one breast, gently squeezing. The desire in his glittering gray eyes is too potent for me to feel self-conscious. His thumb brushes my nipple, and the sensitive bud tightens. He lightly rolls the dark peak until I squirm, pleasure cascading through me.

“The feel of you,” he says, lowering his head. “The taste.”

I gasp when his tongue slides over the stiff crest, teasing it with hot, wet lashes. Sensation thrums along every nerve, races over my skin. His tongue swirls, deliciously relentless, while his hand moves to the other side. His knuckles graze the sensitive underside of my breast, and I tremble. My hands curl into his hair, gripping harder as his fingers and lips roam, learning my shape and feel. Griffin closes his scalding mouth around my nipple, sucking with a husky sound that reverberates against my chest.

I buck under him, pulsing with desire. At the same time, my sense of self-preservation jumps to alert along with a desperate need to keep Griffin safe. My eyes fly open as his fingers feather down my belly, seeking the curls between my legs. I almost don’t have the will to stop him. I wait a second longer than I should, and his wide palm curves around me, a finger sliding between my slick folds.

Panting, I reach for his wrist, halting him with a limp touch.

Griffin stills. A few heartbeats later, he presses the heel of his palm down, putting pressure on a place that sends an exquisite jolt through me. Deep inside, I start to throb.

“Cat.” My name is a tortured plea. His breath comes in warm, erratic puffs against my breast. His finger dips deeper into my wetness, teasing my opening.

My body aches. Violently. Desperately. I’m unbearably empty and need to be filled. I exhale with a shudder and shake my head, biting my lip to keep from saying something I shouldn’t. I deny him. I deny us both.

Griffin’s hoarse groan intensifies the ache inside me. I shift restlessly against his hand, unconsciously lifting my hips.

His whole body tenses. “That’s not helping,” he mutters, dropping his forehead to my shoulder.

“Sorry,” I mutter back, breathless.

It takes a long time for his breathing to settle. He stretches out on his side, absently smoothing his hand over my hip, the warm weight of it making me aware of how slight I am. Not just slight.
Concave
.

I glance down. I’m used to a certain amount of roundness, and the sight of tight skin over bones reminds me of things best left in the past.

Griffin eases onto his back, lacing our fingers again even though we’ve stopped bleeding. I turn into him without thinking.

“Should I reopen the cuts?” he asks. His free arm comes around me.

I touch the hard ridges of his abdomen, warm skin over steel. “We should go.”

“Can you walk?”

I take a deep breath, not wanting to move. “There’s only one way to find out.”

Griffin scrubs his hand down his face and then rises, reaching out to help me up. I stay upright but feel like a ripple on water—ready to collapse. I groan, which seems to worry him. Then my stomach growls, and his eyes brighten.

“Food. Then we leave.”

I shake my head, gripping the bedpost for balance. “No time.”

His gray eyes turn flinty. “You need to eat.”

“I’ll eat while we ride. Andromeda could have spies anywhere. She might already know I’m here.”

The muscles in his jaw flex, but he nods, turning from me to find a washbasin and sponge. He wipes the dried blood off us both. My immediate protest fades with his unwavering stare and gruff insistence on taking care of me. I bite my tongue and stand still for him because I understand his need. He watched me dying for days. I watched him dying for minutes, and it was beyond awful.

Heated shivers follow the path of the cool sponge and Griffin’s smoldering gaze. Goose bumps sweep my body, and my nipples tighten again, causing his eyes to snag on my breasts and turn heavy-lidded. Unfulfilled desire molds his striking features into stark, hard lines as he washes me with a focus that makes my pulse pound and my knees weak. Warmth gathers between my legs again. My limbs feel languid. I can’t catch my breath.

Griffin drops a lingering kiss on my bare shoulder before tugging a clean, white tunic over my head. He drags another one over his own head before throwing open the door and bellowing for the others.

Kato and Flynn rush out of the room next door. They see me, and their faces split into wide grins. We almost hug but hold back because Griffin is hovering like an overprotective Centaur. That, and I’m not wearing any pants.

Griffin hands Kato the basin of bloody water. “Dilute this.” To Flynn he says, “Burn the tunic and the bedding. Make sure there isn’t a drop of blood anywhere.”

I turn to him, wide-eyed, and Griffin spreads his hands. “You think I’m not learning?”

I smile. No comment.

Egeria arrives next. She gets teary and launches herself at me, nearly bowling me over and squeezing me so hard I start to reevaluate her buttercup status. She’s strong. Or maybe I’m just really weak. I awkwardly pat her back until she lets go.

“We need food for the road,” Griffin tells her. “Fruit. Bread. And cheese.”

I open my mouth, but he beats me to it. “Not goat cheese.”

I grin. How did I ever not like him?

Carver pounds up the stairs, breathing hard. “Cat!” He picks me up and twirls me around. When he sets me down, I lose my balance, and Griffin has to catch me before I fall. He circles an arm around my waist and hauls me against his side, planting a kiss on the top of my head. His possessive display of affection has me blushing kalaberry red.

“Help Flynn with the bedding,” he grumbles. “Get the horses ready, and tell Piers we’re moving out.”

Carver glances at me with concern, ignoring his brother’s surly tone. “The sun’s still high.”

Griffin looks out the window, frowning. “We can’t wait.”

I clear my throat. “Can I please have some pants?”

Everyone’s eyes drop to my legs, and Griffin pushes me behind him as if no one’s seen knees before. Egeria hurries from the room, returning with a pale-yellow tunic and a pair of dark-brown pants.

“What happened to my clothes?” I see only my boots, tucked neatly under the bed.

“Ruined,” she answers. “We burned them along with Griffin’s.”

That means I’m down to one tunic and my leather pants, and they’re not even here. At least they’ll fit. Actually, they’ll probably fall off.

“I need to go to the agora when we get back. Not that I have any money.” I scowl at Griffin. “When
is
payday, anyway?”

He laughs and kisses me in front of everyone. I’m too weak to shove him away, and the second his lips touch mine, I forget to protest anyway.

“You deserve a raise. You all do. Now move!”

Everyone flies into action. Griffin stays with me, coaxing me to drink water while I get dressed. Egeria’s clothes are too big for me and much softer than what I’m used to. Wearing them is like walking through a cloud.

Just when I’m starting to think it would be great to sit down again, Carver opens the door and pokes his head into the room. “Everything’s ready.”

Griffin watches me take two steps and then swings me into his arms.

“That’s not necessary,” I protest, ignoring the white spots streaking across my vision.

“I’m Beta Sinta,” he replies gruffly. “I’ll decide what’s necessary.”

I have an excellent comeback to that. I just don’t use it. Instead, I say, “Just wait until I have the strength to fight you again, Your High-Handedness.”

Griffin grins like he can’t wait. He juggles me in his arms to fit us through the narrow doorway and then carries me downstairs and across a shady courtyard, the floor entirely covered in colorful mosaics portraying the Olympians conquering the Titans in the War of Gods.

“Did you get Panotii for me?” I ask Carver.

He nods. “That horse is a legend. No one can understand how he got here over an hour before the army did. They were out of the castle five minutes after you.”

I blink at him in surprise. I was pouring the healer’s magic and then my own life force into Griffin for
that
long? No wonder I almost killed myself.

We cross under a domed archway and into a second courtyard that’s too big to be shaded. The sun hurts my eyes, and I turn into the shadow of Griffin’s neck, the heat hitting me like a wall.

Beta Team and Egeria are waiting by the horses. “Where’s Piers?” I ask, yawning.

“Heading the army,” Griffin says. “They’ll meet us at the west gate.”

Panotii sees me and nickers. I slip out of Griffin’s arms and go to my horse, stroking his neck. He nudges my chest with his velvety nose, nearly knocking me over.

“You’re a hero, you know.”

His enormous ears twitch. Of course he knows.

I try unsuccessfully to get my foot in the stirrup. Flynn offers me a leg up, but Griffin muscles him out of the way and lifts me up himself. Flynn grins in a way I don’t like at all, and he and Kato keep poking each other in the ribs, looking back and forth between Griffin and me.

I make a face. “How old are you? Five?”

Flynn pats my thigh, giving it a hearty squeeze despite Griffin’s dark look. “That’s the Cat we missed.”

Exchanging a look with Carver, the two of them then rummage around in Flynn’s bag. It’s Kato who hands me the flask they pull out.

“What’s this?” I unscrew the top and sniff suspiciously.

He refuses to answer, his cobalt eyes merry, so I make a show of being wary before putting the flask to my lips. The familiar taste that washes over my tongue fills me with delight. “Fisan clover water!”

Kato grins, nearly blinding me with his good looks. “Flynn, Carver, and I thought you’d like it.”

“I practically grew up on this stuff. My sister and I used to sneak into the kitchens and drink until our stomachs sloshed.”

Griffin glances at me. “Sister?”

“Where did you get this?” I ask, tilting my head back for a longer sip.

Kato takes the flask back when I hand it to him, closes it, and then tucks it into Panotii’s saddlebag. “Ios has a realms store. Fisan merchants arrived this morning with the clover water—and this.” He turns to the others, and Flynn pulls a necklace from a leather pouch, gingerly holding the chain between his thumb and forefinger.

My heart skips a beat. Or maybe three. Tiny, hammered gold laurel leaves climb the pendant, protecting it and attaching it to a gold chain. Inside is a shard of glacier from the Ice Plains, encased in a magic vial to keep it from melting. The ice swirls with myriad shades of blue and pulses with so much magic that it must have been harvested near Olympus. There are probably only a handful of people who can make it that far onto the Ice Plains and back.

My hand trembles as I reach for the necklace. Both the chain and the pendant are bitingly cold. I can already feel the ice working for me, bolstering what little strength I have. I blink a few times before looking up. I can hardly breathe. “This must have cost a fortune.”

All three men shrug, brushing off the colossal price that comes with this kind of treasure. “The merchant explained it to us,” Flynn says. “Something about always being connected to the source of your power. A spell on the glass keeps it from melting. We thought it might help.”

Carver grins like an idiot. “And it’s pretty.”

I choke on the lump in my throat, laughing and coughing at the same time. Looping the chain over my head, I tuck the pendant under my tunic. It falls between my breasts, burning me with cold. “Thank you,
oikogeneia
.” The ancient word for family rises unbidden, tumbling past my lips. I just claimed these people. Maybe someday they’ll know.

I get my first real look at Ios as we ride out to meet the army at the west gate. The city is heavily marbled and overflowing with temples to the Gods. We pass more than one bathhouse, the agora is bustling, and the merchants look prosperous enough. I’m not surprised—the farther north in the realms, the wealthier the cities. What does surprise me is the train of people we collect.

Ionians line the streets in colorful clothing, dressed for a festival, watching us pass. Watching
me
. Women and children throw flowers along my path and then link arms with their husbands and fathers and fall into step behind us. Panotii’s hooves click on the even cobbles, trampling the blooms and releasing heady scents into the afternoon heat. I hear my name on the fragrant breeze and thank the Gods the wind isn’t blowing east.

Even though I’d much rather duck my head and hide my face, I manage to smile and wave here and there since it seems the appropriate thing to do. The residents of Ios cheer for me when we reach the gate. I wish they wouldn’t. Saving them today doesn’t mean I won’t destroy them tomorrow. That’s my fate, after all.

I swallow, finding my throat painfully dry.

I breathe more easily once we’re outside the gates. Griffin and I fall into place at the head of the waiting soldiers, in front of Beta Team, Piers, and even Egeria. Taking the lead position feels both right and wrong at the same time.

“What about the healing center?” I ask.

Griffin glances over. “The plans haven’t changed.” Easing Brown Horse closer, he reaches out and gently brushes a loose curl off my temple. His fingertips graze the shell of my ear as he tucks it back, and I shiver despite the heat. Frowning, he asks, “Are you sure you can travel?”

The concern in his eyes nearly undoes me, but I nod anyway, which is a colossal lie. I’m not sure at all. “Won’t the attack scare the healers away from here?” I ask. “They already don’t want anything to do with it.”

“The important thing is helping people. If they can’t see that, they’re idiots.”

“They’re idiots.”

He shrugs. “Then we’ll hire Hoi Polloi medics. They have skills even if they don’t have magic.”

Simple and yet so effective—archetypal Griffin. “That’s brilliant. Healers will hate it. It’ll push them into getting involved. Their egos won’t stand for being passed over in their intended role.”

Griffin nods.

We ride quietly for a while, but then I look over at him. “Thank you for saving me.”

“We saved each other,” he answers, and my chest squeezes tight when he reaches over again, like he can’t stop touching me. His long fingers wrap around mine. “But don’t ever sacrifice yourself for me, Cat. I can’t live with that.”

A knot of emotion tangles around my heart. His hand is so warm. Griffin’s is the only heat I’ve ever been drawn to.

“How long was I out?” I ask.

He lets go of me in order to pick up both reins again when Brown Horse starts tossing his head. “Six days.”

Six days! No wonder I’m emaciated.
“But I only remember waking up a few times.”

His eyes flick over to me, flinty and grim. “That’s because you only woke up a few times.”

I shudder a little. I’ve always tried hard to stay alive, but I was never truly afraid of death before.

A while later, Griffin says, “Those Tarvans were invading our territory, attacking Sintan royalty. That’s an act of war.”

“Welcome to the Power Bid,” I mutter gloomily.

“Kill or be killed,” he responds, apparently adopting my bitter philosophy.

A wry smile twists my lips. “You’re as merciless as I am. You just hide it better.”

“We’re both ruthless when we have to be. It makes us a good match.”

I shake my head. “There should always be someone humane in the mix, to keep the other one in line.”

He chuckles a little. “We have Egeria for that.”

I laugh and then cough. Griffin pulls out the clover water and makes me drink. He tries to give me more, but I shove it away, suddenly nauseated. “One more sip and I’ll throw up.”

His brow furrowing, he puts the flask away. “Unless they’re utterly heartless, people put a certain value on human life. It keeps us from killing each other off for no reason. But for leaders like you and me, a moral high ground is too absolute. There are choices to be made.”

“I’m not a leader.”

A stubborn glint enters his eyes. “You are. I know how you handled Piers and everyone back at the castle. You make decisions. You execute them. You protect your people.”

I snort. “My people aren’t very numerous.”

“Actually, they’re more numerous than you think. The entire city of Ios worships you.”

So that’s what that was all about?
Now I’m
really
nauseated. The water I drank pushes uncomfortably at the edges of my shrunken stomach. I don’t want Ios worshipping me. I don’t want anyone worshipping me. “I don’t like people talking about me.”

“It’s too late for that. Everyone here knows you decimated those Tarvans almost single-handedly. The rest of Sinta will know soon enough, and the Ionians have already started building a shrine in your honor.”

What?
I look at him, stunned. “Shrines are for Gods.” I blink, but nope, everything is still out of focus. That can’t be good.

“Gods. Heroes.” He gives me that lopsided smile that always makes me go into cardiac arrest. “A mysterious Fisan who gallops to the rescue on a donkey-horse and breathes fire…”

I try not to laugh. Or fall off my horse. “Panotii will kick you for that. And the Tarvans were after
you
, not Ios.”

“They would have sacked the city. The place is virtually defenseless. There’s a wall Brown Horse could jump over and a total of twenty guards. You saved Ios, and the people there know it.”

I frown. “Sinta’s in a weak position. It’s the poorest realm with the driest climate and the least magic, and the ex-royals drove it half into the ground with their greed. The Power Bid is here, but everything is different this time because Alpha Fisa is still too dominant, Alpha Tarva took over before he should have, and you…” I glance at Griffin, an Alpha in Beta’s clothing. “Well, I’m pretty sure you started it all.”

He doesn’t look repentant in the least. “And what happened at Ios was someone else’s first move. A Tarvan royal?”

“That’s my guess. But I think that Giant you fought after you abducted me was actually the first move. We just didn’t know it then.”

“The same person?” he asks.

Shrugging, I shake my head. “There’s no way to know.”

Griffin scans the horizon and then looks south, the bold angles of his jaw hardening as he takes in the arid vista. “I can give soldiers to Ios and Skathos to protect the healing centers, but I can’t spread my army too thin. We have to protect Sinta City and the family. Mylos is safe, but I don’t have enough people to cover Velos or Kaplos, and I barely have enough soldiers to keep the tribes peaceful in the south.”

“Recruit. Sinta is poorer than it used to be, but that’s only because all the wealth is at the castle. Redistribute. It’s good for everyone.”

He drags his hand through his hair, pushing it back. It’s gotten longer, wilder—more warlord than Beta. “I don’t trust soldiers who aren’t my own.”

“You don’t have a choice, and they will be yours. Most people just want to eat, or feed their families. You’ll have rotten fruit here and there, but so does everyone. The Fisan and Tarvan royals probably have a lot more than you do. Everyone hates them—the people because they’re repressed and terrorized, the nobles because they’re jealous and petty. There are constant plots to bring down the royal families. They just don’t work. Well, except for you.” I wave my hand in Griffin’s direction.

His mouth twitches. He’s still blurry, and my limbs are getting heavy. I struggle with the disturbing sensation while still trying to focus on the conversation.

“You’ll have trouble with nobles and certain Magoi, like healers. Both are a minority. Most Sintans are happy with Egeria. They even like
you
,” I say with a
go figure
look that makes him chuckle outright. “Your family gives instead of takes. That’s a huge change. It’s unexpected.”

“Are you finally warming up to Egeria?”

I shrug. “She’s all right.”

His eyes sparkle. “Such high praise.”

“Recruit,” I say, ignoring his sarcasm. “If that’s not enough, we’ll think of something else.”

He cocks his head and looks at me with curiosity. “You have something in mind.”

“I always have something in mind.”

Griffin leans toward me, his voice deepening. “So do I.”

His suggestive tone instantly heats me up. Despite my growing weakness, desire takes up a steady beat inside me.

“Don’t tease,” I admonish. “This is serious.”

“Who’s teasing?”

I give him a flat look. “Ipotane.”

He gives me a flat look back. “Not what I had in mind.”

I roll my eyes, trying to catch my breath, which takes a lot more effort than it should. “But you know what they are?”

“Magical creatures. Half-human, half-horse.”

I nod, and his lips thin.

“Magical creatures aren’t trustworthy,” Griffin says.