I stole that griffin’s egg. The creature may not have known where to look for it, but if I appear at her nest with the egg, then she’ll put two and two together. She’ll be within her rights to snap me in half with her powerful beak or crash me with her talons. Or maybe even just kick me out of the nest. That’s deadly enough.
Roane gets up with a groan, pulling his hair back and tying it off with a leather strip. “Better leave your precious book here, so it doesn’t get singed.”
“Excuse me,” Olm says. “I’m going with you.”
I pat the book nestled against my breasts. “It will be fine.”
“Suit yourself.” Roane’s gaze stops where I’ve pressed my hand, a dark fire lighting up in his eyes. “Lucky book.”
I shake my head. “You need to stop saying things like that. That ship has sailed. Now the only thing I want is to get away from you as quickly as possible.”
“Brought this on yourself, Ro,” Talton chirps. “You naughty boy. Won’t you miss her when she’s gone?”
Roane scowls.
The urge to laugh is strong and inappropriate—mostly because I’m still so damn angry with Roane. So damn sad.
It’s not because he lied, I realize, or even because he said he doesn’t want me around anymore. It’s mostly because I still want him, because deep inside me, there is a flicker of hope saying he’ll come around and apologize. Say he wants me here.
Say it,I plead with him in my mind.Say it! Stop pretending you felt nothing when you held me and kissed me and touched me. Pleasured me.
But Roane only gathers his belt of knives and scimitars and buckles it on. “Let’s go.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
MAKE UP YOUR MIND
ADELINE
We’re standing outside the library, on the rock shelf overlooking the city. I have the griffin egg resting against my side, inside a sling I made from a piece of cloth, and Roane lifts a hand and whistles for his phoenix.
How bad is it that I can’t look away from him? Even weary as he surely is, he looks regal standing there in his dirty leathers, his long hair in a messy knot, his pointy ears peeking out, the golden stud winking in his earlobe.
When the firebird appears and his mouth pulls into a feral grin, he looks unreal, like an old god walking the earth.
Olm sighs. “You are so ridiculous.”
“You’re right.” I deliberately look away from Roane. “This is foolish. I don’t want to see his stupid face ever again.”
“That’s the spirit.”
Then the firebird flies down and I gulp, annoyance forgotten in the face of this fiery monster bird. I’d managed not to think too hard about how Roane had ridden on it to save me and how it had burned as we’d flown from the griffin’s nest down to the ground.
Simu flaps his wings, raining sparks down on us, and lets out an ear-splitting screech. His underbelly is golden and the wingscrimson. He looks like a living flame as he lands in front of us. Smoke plumes from his beak.
“Simu!” Roane ambles toward the flaming bird as if he doesn’t mind touching fire. He doesn’t flinch when he places his hand on the bird’s foreleg. “You came.”
The phoenix lowers his neck and Roane swings himself on top, scooting backward. Then he reaches a hand down for me.
Wiping my hands on my leather pants, swallowing past a lump of fear in my throat, I approach and take his hand, letting him haul me up.
How can I be scared of this when I’m about to confront an angry mamma griffin?
Hissing at the heat lapping over my body, I grab the long feathers on the griffin’s neck and suddenly I’m in Roane’s lap.
I dig an elbow into his ribs and he hisses a curse while pulling me more firmly between his legs.
“What are you doing?” I snap.
