Griffin humbly presents his offering to Artemis. “An arm guard, to protect the Goddess of the Hunt from the sting of the bowstring.”
My eyes widen.What a good idea!
Silent and unnervingly expressionless, Artemis takes the brace. She tugs the arm guard over her left wrist and up. The top of the cone lies just below the crease of her elbow. The bottom hugs her wrist. A perfect fit.
She bends her arm and twists her wrist. The grass makes a soft creaking sound when she moves, and Griffin murmurs, “It will soften. With use.”
The Goddess’s eyes meet Griffin’s, and he goes very still. I don’t like the awe-struck look on his face, or the way his tanned cheeks color in the least. It takes all my willpower to not jump on his back, wrap my arms and legs around him, and snarl “mine, mine” like some kind of crazed octopus.
Quadropus.
Whatever.
Artemis reclines in her chair, sipping her wine with absolute calm. She still wears the brace. The cuffs are next to her. Her flawless face gives no indication of what she’s thinking, or whose gift she favors.
Finally, her cool gaze swings toward Lycheron. “I already have gold and riches aplenty. However, I have no objection to more.” She slips his wrist cuffs around her upper arms because they more or less fit her there.
My heart starts to pound. Griffin looks ill.
After a casual dip of her ruby-toned lips to her jeweled goblet, she turns to Griffin. “In my long life, my bowstring has hit my arm exactly five times.”
My stomach hollows, and my insides drop through the hole. In other words, we just gave her something completely useless.
Artemis flexes her arm again, making the grass creak. A small smile lifts the corners of her mouth. “That’s five times too many, and yet no one has ever offered me one of these.”
My heart kicks wildly. Hope nearly shatters my chest.
“This is neither particularly aesthetic nor entirely comfortable, but it took thought and effort, and for that, I will award you the point.”
I gasp in astonishment. Griffin smiles brilliantly, his handsome face lighting up, and even Artemis looks a bit dazed by the amazing curve of his lips. Knowing how starved she is for male affection, I throw my arms around Griffin’s neck and pull him down for a claim-staking kiss. And then another—just in case.
Griffin swings me up into his arms and kisses me soundly back.
Lycheron stamps his front hooves, bucking in agitated protest. “If he wins, do you have any idea what I’ll have to do?” he demands.
Artemis arches perfect, dark eyebrows. “Of course. I know everything.”
My head snaps around.Really?
“Then you can’t possibly—”
Artemis stands, causing Lycheron to fall abruptly silent. “I suggest you gather your Nymphs”—the Goddess offers the Ipotane Alpha a sly smile—“to make Sinta more bearable.”
Lycheron swishes his tail, the whiplike ends stinging the air much too close to Griffin’s arm. “The Hydra is restless, attacking when it shouldn’t. The herd should stay here until the creature settles.”
“The Hydra won’t trouble your Nymphs—or anyone—again.” Artemis tilts her head in my direction. “Her snake ate it.”
An amber sheen rolls over Lycheron’s eyes, lighting them with something primal and powerful that roots me to the spot. His chin dips, his nostrils flare, his muscles bulge and almost vibrate with fury, and I take back what I thought before; heisterrifying.
“Wait.” I’m confused. “Mysnake?”
“It’s always about you, Harbinger. Everyone keeps telling you that, and yet you refuse to believe.”
The blood crashes from my head, leaving my face numb. “No. No, you’re wrong.”
Everyone gasps, even Lycheron, who then stamps angrily again, glaring at me with those glowing eyes.
I swallow uneasily, still reeling from the Goddess’s words. “That is to say… Thank you for your vote. We’re forever in your debt.”
