I swallow the rest of the angry words boiling in my mouth. I believe him.
Slowly, he unlocks his hand from around my arm and then nods in the direction of up.
Heat rises from the magma-filled pit below. Chilled air races down from the snow-capped peaks above. The two collide and try to toss me around like a leaf in a storm, but I’m steadier now, inside and out. I beat my wings and shoot upward toward the open sky.
With a shout, I fly out of the chasm north of the burning house and then gulp down a less sulfurous breath. The air is thick and dark with smoke, though, and doesn’t taste much better. I tilt, swooping around and scanning the meadow for signs of Griffin.
There!
I squint against the acrid burn of rising smoke and see Griffin stumbling across the grass. He staggers toward the cliff, damaged and unsteady on his feet, but my heart still sings in relief. I need him. Griffin helps me to see things differently. To seemyselfdifferently. Courage and strength were already there, but the most fundamental part was lacking: belief in myself. Through the mirror of his eyes, I finally saw someone worth knowing and fighting for. By his side, there’s no more hiding or walking in the shadow of my potential. Griffin won’t stand for that, and I find that lately, neither can I.
As I fly toward him from the side, Griffin falls to his knees near the edge of the pit and lets out a bloodcurdling howl. It chills me to the very marrow of my bones. His cry still echoing off the mountains, he reaches up and fists both hands in his hair. He pulls, rocking hard.
Fear sends goose bumps crashing over me in a wave. He’s too close to the edge, desperate and devastated, and I’m suddenly terrified he’s going to try to follow me over the cliff. I might be able to fly, but I can’t carry him out.
A hot ache bursts beneath my breast. “Griffin!”
His dark head jerks up. He turns toward the sound of my voice, and his eyes widen, standing out in his blood-streaked and sooty face.
Tears burn my eyes. I close in on him, wobbling as I try to slow down.
His expression goes from stark and hollow to pure shock. He jumps up, reeling back from the cliff. “Cat?”
“Yes!” I cry, holding back the sob of the century.
A glassy sheen coats Griffin’s eyes as I crash down nearly on top of him, my legs jarring hard when my feet hit the ground. The sob flies from me, and I pitch forward. Griffin meets me halfway. Our bodies collide, the shock of him vibrating through me. Heat. Muscle. Bone. We’re both too injured to slam into each other this way, but neither of us cares. I throw my arms around his neck and hold on.
As if his legs can’t hold him up any longer, he sinks down, dragging me down with him. We both end up on our knees, and Griffin clutches me so tightly that my ribs ache. I find his face with my hands and grip his jaw hard. We kiss, a frantic crushing and melding of lips. I taste sweat and blood, mine and his, and he groans against my mouth. It’s not a sound of desire. It’s the sound of just barely not breaking.
“I thought you were dead. I was sure you… And I couldn’t…” His breath hitches, and he shudders. Seeing his lashes spike with moisture nearly breaks my heart.
My own breathing is far from steady, and my throat is thick with tears, but I need to say something that will take the fear out of his eyes—and the horrible, misplaced guilt from his voice.
I look at him straight on, knowing he’ll never look away. “You think I’m that easy to kill?”
He makes a strangled sound, and I know he recognizes the exact same words I used at the circus fair the night we first met. He swallows and keeps staring at me, but he doesn’t look quite so heartbreakingly terrified anymore.
“I remember when you said that. That’s the moment I fell in love with you.” Taking my face in his hands, Griffin brushes his thumb across my lower lip. “You and your smart mouth.”
My heart swells, and my mouth tingles under his touch. I kiss his thumb.
Griffin curves his hands around my head and pulls me in to him, tucking me against his chest. For a moment, we both stop, needing to feel skin and heartbeats and breath.
“I won’t leave you,” I say almost savagely, clutching the back of his ruined tunic. Griffin is smart, kind, fair, strong, broad, bruised, andmine. I am never letting him go, and he’s never getting rid of me. We have a life to live. Together.
He draws back, looking down at me. “I know,agapi mou. But I thought you’d been taken.” His eyes flick over my feathers, and nervous heat rises in my belly. It fans out, spreading toward my neck and face.
I sprouted wings.Helpful? Yes. Attractive? Debatable…
Still kneeling and wrapped in Griffin’s arms, I glance over my shoulder and try to extend my wings. They folded back down at some point after I landed without my really even thinking about it. One side snaps out, impressive. The other ignores me completely.Great. Nothing is ever easy.
I urge the extended one to relax again, and it folds down against my back, brushing the ground.
“Do they hurt?” Griffin asks.
I shake my head. “No, except for when they first popped out. But I hope you like wings. Now that they’re here, I have no idea how to put them back inside me again. Or if I even can.”
His brow furrowing, Griffin smooths one hand over my feathers. They’re surprisingly sensitive, and a little shiver cascades down my spine.
