“Deal?” Griffin asks.
“She was going to turn me over to Galen Tarva once she got her hands on me, giving him the Kingmaker in exchange for leaving her alone.”
Griffin visibly shudders. “He must have threatened her with earthquakes and windstorms.”
My lips thin. “I underestimated his magic. Dangerously so.”
Griffin takes my hand and squeezes lightly. “You’ve had three minutes of practice, and you’re already a formidable queen.”
It’s my turn to shudder. “What did you mean, a person like me?”
He smiles a little wryly, his gray eyes glittering with that silver lining that’s become my future and my hope. “The same as always. Impetuous. Reckless.” His thumb brushes my knuckles. “Terrifyingly selfless.”
This time, none of that sounds like a criticism. I’m too relieved to hold on to any anger, anyway. “Don’t forget exceedingly clever and very good at rhyming.”
Griffin grins, and my heart flips over so hard it hurts. Then he cups my face with both hands, his eyes meeting mine. “My chest is bursting with pride.”
At his quiet words, mine just about explodes.
“Queen Catalia.” The look on Griffin’s face nearly melts me into a warm, gooey puddle. “The woman I love is carrying my child. I’m going to be a father.”
I smile, a tickle of featherlight wings skimming the insides of my ribs. He’ll be a wonderful father. He’s definitely the one getting up at night.
“What made you suspect?” I ask.
Griffin’s mouth lifts. His eyes glimmer, crinkling at the corners. “I first wondered outside the Chaos Wizard’s house. You went from starving to lustier than a horde of Nymphs to weepy in the space of one conversation. Not like you at all.”
I scowl. “What do you know about a horde of Nymphs?”
“Only what I saw of Lycheron’s pack. Pretty. Eager.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Flexible.”
I mash my lips together, my eyes narrowing. “There once was an Alpha named Griffin.” I stop, at a loss. “Son of a Cyclops! Nothing rhymes with Griffin.”
He chuckles. “You’d have more luck with ‘An Origin named Cat.’”
“Easy. She’s as crazy as a bat, and kind of a brat.”
Smiling, Griffin drops his hands to my waist and pulls me in close. His lips trace a scorching path across my cheek to my ear. “And I love her just like that.”
His gruff whisper sends a shiver down my spine.
“Why did you collect that hellipses grass outside the wizard’s house?” I ask, suspecting I already know.
“I was thinking about making a rattle, or a doll.” He shrugs. “It was good grass. I wanted to save some, just in case.”
“It was good grass,” I agree. “Good enough for a Goddess.”
He winks. “Or a princess.”
Grinning like an idiot, I hug him close, inhaling citrus and sun—and the coppery scent of blood along with a faint essence of dog breath.
Excitement floods me.A baby!My mother willneverget her hands on my child.
I sober instantly. “How can I fight a war with a baby?”
Griffin sobers, too. “We’ll need to move fast.”
“But you said not to change technique in the middle of the battle, and this changes everything.”
