| |
Unable to actually fucking do anything, I shifted and went for a run in the nearby forest. The black numbness wanted to swallow me one moment. And the next I was engulfed in a red-hot rage. So, I ran. I let my big paws pound through the snowy forest, eating up distance until my muscles quivered and I was forced to stop, the air knifing into my lungs like needles of ice.
I stood on a rise and stared out at the snow-covered forest. Lifting my head, I let out a shrill battle cry—an eagle screech that was somehow war and heartbreak all in one sound. This. This was why I was so afraid to admit I was building a pride. To trust people again. To build a new family.
Because a lion's heart was full of honor and loyalty and truth. But it was also easily wounded.
I wanted to give up. I wanted to lie down in the snow and sleep the eternal sleep. Maybe Oisin would find me there.
My love for my fucking pride was killing me. But it was also the only thing that kept me alive. It cemented a suspicion in my mind. One that made all the growing possessiveness and difficulty controlling my gryphon side make perfect sense.
But that couldn’t be right...only male gryphons could be alphas.
Sucking in a deep breath of snow-scented air, I turned and plodded back toward home.
I did feel slightly better when I got back home, back to my territory. Not any less raw and wounded, but more centered at least. White was going to give me some sort of help. I had no idea what, but he was a fucking demon for fuck's sake. I'm sure it would be something useful for murdering fae lords.
I carried my exhausted ass up the stairs, skipping the broken places, and into the kitchen in search of sustenance. I at least had to keep my physical strength. I was going to need it for heavy shifting. And fighting. Protecting my pride, the way I’d failed to do this time.
I froze when I reached the warm haven of Con-made treasures.
There was a fucking mage in my kitchen.
Vanhelsing turned from where he was examining the contents of the fridge. "I'm guessing the human does all the cooking around here?" he said in his gravelly voice. He was in his sock feet, and he'd discarded the leather duster and hat, leaving him in a black t-shirt and black jeans.
His creepy fucking mismatched eyes met mine as he pulled out sandwich stuff and set it on the counter. "What?"
I crossed my arms. "What the fuck are you doing in my kitchen?"
He closed the fridge and started rooting around in the cupboards. "Like I said before, I don't get a say in what kind of shit jobs I get shoved my way."
He pulled out a bag of chips to go with his sandwich and turned back to me, his creepy gaze appraising. "Looks like I'm stuck with your grumpy ass for a while."
I opened and closed my mouth. Derek fucking White.
"You. You're his idea of fucking resources?"
The mage shrugged. "Why not. I'm just a tool. A weapon." He gave me a look. "A really good one, in fact. Especially against fae."
My blood chilled in my veins at that. He was a fae killer. The evidence was right there in the eyes that didn't belong to him, glowing purple and liquid gold. I supposed this was what you got when you took help from a Godsdamned demon.
"I'll have salami and ham," I said with a sigh, sinking down at the table.
He raised a blond brow as he started making a sandwich. "Get it your own damned self, peach. What do I look like, one of your fuck buddies?" He snorted with derision.
It was going to be a long ten days.