Shea didn’t know how to respond to that or the bitterness she could hear brewing in his voice, so she didn’t.
“You inherited his vision in the end,” the mythological said, his voice still emotionless.
Griffin’s back straightened. “Yes, I did, and that’s all that matters. He’ll see I was the better choice. I love you, Shea, but we both know you aren’t brutal enough to do what needs to be done. Though I was beginning to wonder, when you hooked up with one of those barbarians.”
If by brutal enough, he meant she didn’t have the will to set beasts intent on consuming human flesh on people who couldn’t defend themselves, he was right.
Shea held her tongue, content to let him chatter away. That was one thing she’d forgotten about him. He loved the sound of his own voice. It occurred to her now, well after the fact, that he’d never really required her input as he droned on about whatever latest thing fascinated him. She’d always attributed that to an overabundance of enthusiasm, something she had always lacked. Or that her contributions to the conversation always seemed lackluster. Now, she saw it was less a flaw in herself and more a reflection on his own inherent obsession with himself.
“You know, your Trateri warlord really gave us trouble. For a while, we thought our plans had died before they could be brought to fruition. Of course, I was the one who pointed out how we could turn all his work to our favor, exploit weaknesses he didn’t even know he had. You played a big part in that,” Griffin threw over his shoulder.
The words were unexpected, and Shea jolted forward. “What do you mean?”
“I struggled to find leverage with any of his trusted inner circle, then you came along. Suddenly, it was like I had the key to everything. It was easy after that. A few words here, a whisper there, and suddenly they saw you as the greatest threat to their people.” His voice turned reminiscing.
Shea’s steps slowed as she processed what he had said. Covath had been right, Griffin had engineered everything. He was the reason for the betrayal by people Shea and Fallon trusted.
He was the reason she’d woken to find her warlord still and pale, with blood running out of him.
“Don’t forget your place, little mouse,” the mythological murmured as heady anger coursed through Shea’s veins. “Now is not the time.”
Shea fought to regain control. It wasn’t easy, not when she thirsted for revenge. She’d never considered herself a particularly violent person until now. Knowing the hand Griffin had played in the assassination attempt on Fallon made it difficult to think clearly.
The red back of a large beast came into view, its head swinging towards her as it stretched onto its hind legs. It waved its paws and lifted its snout to the air before dropping back onto all fours. Shea was abruptly reminded that Griffin hadn’t traveled here alone. The pets he’d made out of beasts watched her from either side of the canyon—their eyes reflecting their hunger.
The mythological squeezed her shoulder in warning again. She nodded, showing she understood.
Had he not intervened when he did, she might have done something unwise—something that would definitely have resulted in her death.
She took a deep breath. He was right. Revenge could come later, once victory was more likely.
The mythological led her over to a place far from either of the beasts. He gestured for her to sit.
“Ajari, come here,” Griffin said, his voice a whip of sound.
Shea saw the mythological’s struggle. It wasn’t easy following the orders of someone weaker than you, someone you didn’t respect. That was obvious.
The mythological’s feet dragged as he approached Griffin.
“You were going to kill her, weren’t you?” Griffin taunted. “Had I not appeared when I did, she would be dead.”
Ajari didn’t answer, his silence stony.
“Well?” Griffin’s voice rose. “I gave strict orders she wasn’t to be harmed. What response do you have for that?”
“Those were your orders,” Ajari replied, boredom suffusing his tone.
“Ones you were willing to disobey.” Griffin’s voice was gloating as he grabbed the necklace around his neck.
Shea sucked in a breath, but she was too late. The mythological fell to the ground, a scream on his lips.
“He didn’t,” Shea shouted, slowly advancing closer.
One of the beasts growled at her, and she flinched back, the instincts of a lifetime taking hold.
Griffin paused and the mythological stopped screaming, a whimper escaping him.
“He didn’t,” Shea said, mustering her courage from somewhere and ignoring the beast. “He wasn’t. He was trying to find a way to bring me to you.”
