“Well, well, well, what do we have here,soldier?” Ryn asks, and the other gryphon shifter with the blue eyes and chin dimple chuckles.
My gaze snaps from Ryn for a second to take in the amusement that lights up the blue-eyed shifter’s gaze, but I don’t watch him long enough to gauge what that amusement means. I focus on Ryn as he steps closer to me, confusion warring with a warm feeling that moves through me. I expect Pigeon to wake up and flood me with some unwelcome feeling of desire or happiness, but she’s quiet. That alone has worry coursing through me as I search Ryn’s gray gaze for some sign of recognition... There is none.
I’m tempted to askwhat the fuck is going on, but thankfully, I still have some sense intact. If this is Ryn—and not some evil twin he forgot to mention—my announcing that I know him isn’t going to go over well for either one of us. Instead, I activate damsel mode. I shy away from Ryn’s large form like I’m terrified of him. It’s not a hard stretch from how I’m actually feeling. I have no fucking clue what is going on and just what I’ve landed myself in the middle of.
I bump back against the large shifter who is still holding onto me from behind. All that does is remind me of the erection he has pressed into my back. I immediately arch as far away as I can from the unwelcome boner and lean toward the large black-haired, blue-eyed shifter in front of me. I don’t miss a flash of what I think is satisfaction in his bright blue gaze before he clears it and turns to answer Ryn’s question.
“I’m not quite sure yet, Commander,” he responds with a curious almost sarcastic inflection in the wordcommander. “This female ran from a patrol that spotted her flying east of here. They moved to apprehend and she ran. She was netted and then fished from the water. She’s unmarked and has a lovely tale about how she’s not from here and is just trying to get home,” Blue Eyes finishes, a sly smile stretching across his full lips.
“Is that right? And where exactly ishome?” Ryn asks, leveling me with his stormy gray gaze.
I watch as anger strikes through his eyes, quick as lightning, before giving way to a cool indifference.Shit.Maybe this is an evil twin, or maybe that look is because I’m here and not back in the Eyrie like he expects me to be. My nostrils flare as I try to scent him again now that he’s closer. It smells like Ryn, but not...and I have no fucking clue what that means.
“Some place called Colerdo,” Blue Eyes supplies when I don’t make any effort to answer mystery Ryn’s question.
The maroon Narwagh armor that mystery Ryn is wearing squeaks as he motions for the gryphon who’s holding me to move. My erection clad captor releases me and moves away. Ryn steps around me, and an odd sensation tingles through my body when his fingertip skims over my shoulder and slowly moves the hair away from the back of my neck. He’s armed to the teeth, which should probably set off some kind of alarm. Instead, I have to tamp down on the shiver that courses through my body, and I’m trying—and failing—to keep my nipples from morphing into diamonds, and goose bumps from rising in the wake of his touch.
“So we’re to believe that the Amaranthine Mountain spirits are gifting us with beautiful, highborn, unmarked females now?” Ryn asks, his featherlight caress moving from my neck and trailing suggestively down my spine.
Snickers sound off around me, and I work not to show how uncomfortable I am right now.
“All hail the Thais Fairies if that’s the case,” Blue Eyes announces, and more laughter bubbles up from the gryphon soldiers surrounding me.
“No wonder the rebel scum have been spotted more and more in this area. Who can blame them with such gifts wandering about?” someone out of sight comments, and Ryn is so close to me now that I can feel the laughter vibrating from his chest into my back.
Unease unfurls within me, and the jeering laughter all around me makes me want to run.
Mystery Ryn bends so that his lips are inches away from the shell of my ear. “Too bad, little sparrow, that I was always taught never to trust anything that seemed too good to be true,” he announces, and panic roars through me.
I’m not sure exactly what sets it off—maybe it’s the use of Zeph’s nickname for me or the thinly veiled threat he just mock whispered in my ear—but everything slows. Before I even know what I’m doing, I reach back and pull a dagger that’s strapped to Ryn’s side from its sheath. I surge forward and press the newly acquired blade to the throat of the massive blue-eyed and dimple-chinned gryphon shifter in front of me. The amusement quickly fades from his sparkly blue gaze, and I watch the shock seep in as I press my dagger into his corded neck.
Everyone around me freezes.
I look around, terrified as other shifters press closer, and I scream at them not to take another step closer.
“I don’t know who you are,” I shout out the half lie, my voice manic and brimming with genuine fear. “I just want to go home,” I beg, my hand shaking as I hold the dagger to Blue Eyes’ throat. He’ll probably snap me in half when this is done, but I have to risk it. My options are nonexistent. There’s nowhere to run; I’m surrounded.
“I’m going to find my way home, and if any of you try to stop me, this dimple-chinned motherfucker is going to die,” I threaten.
Blue Eyes’ gives an amused snort, and my eyes snap to his. “What the fuck do you find so funny?” I snarl, irritation swooping in to embrace my distress.
“I can see that you’re scared, flower, but you and I both know you’re not going to slit my throat,” he states evenly, the corners of his ample lips turning up into a confident smile.
The smirk’s presence pisses me off.
“If it will get me home and away from wherever the fuck I am, I will,” I challenge, pressing the blade harder against the warm skin of his throat.
His annoying smile widens, but something flashes in his eyes. His gaze morphs, and I can see and feel the gryphon in him staring back at me. The blue of his eyes flickers, like the connection is bad and they can’t settle on a color. I’m so hypnotized by it—and the heat that’s suddenly surging through me—that I don’t even fight when a huge tan muscled arm circles my neck from behind. I’m forcefully jerked back from the dimple-chinned asshole. The choke hold around my throat tightens as a fire blazes through my blood. I’m lifted off the ground, and the pressure on my throat increases to dangerous levels. I panic and scramble to find any kind of footing as I’m choked.
Surprise penetrates my hysteria when I bring my hands up to claw at the arm around my neck and I realize that I still have the dagger in my grip. I twist the blade and then slam it as hard as I can into whoever is trying to kill me. A pain filled roar rents the air all around me, and I shove the blade into someone up to the hilt. The pressure on my windpipe decreases slightly, and I claw with both hands at the meaty arm around my neck and gasp for air.
“Pigeon!”I scream for all I’m worth.“Pigeon, please, I need you!”
Nothing.
Frustration and worry burn through me, but I don’t have time to focus on that. I need to get away! I snarl and scramble and do everything I can to free myself, but it’s no use. The shock of my stabbing has worn off, and the arm around my neck tightens. I can’t get enough oxygen into my lungs again, and terror is overriding every sensible thought in my head.
I don’t want to die!
