CHAPTER 30

I wake up way too hot. It doesn’t take long to figure out why. There’s a naked warlord plastered to my back. I inch forward, trying to get away without waking him.

A steely arm bands around my waist, dragging me back. “Where do you think you’re going?”

There’s no trace of sleep in Griffin’s voice. He’s been awake for a while, holding me. My heart lurches, and I feel the intense need to run.

He rolls me to face him and looks at me like he wants me again, like all he wants is me. His eyes are shadowed pools I could lose myself in, completely and forever. My heart swells until a tangled mass of emotion clogs my throat, choking me.

I panic, turn invisible, and scramble off the bed.

“Cat?” Griffin grabs blindly at where I just was. Frowning, he sits up, throwing the sheet back.

I freeze, staring at him. I can’t help it. He’s naked and magnificent, every muscle hard and defined, lean and powerful. Heat sweeps through me, my insides tightening with the knowledge of what his body can do to mine. My mouth waters to taste his smooth, sun-kissed skin again. My fingers ache to touch him. Instead, I pad across the room on silent feet, ignoring the increasingly ferocious scowl on Griffin’s face. Picking up some clothes I left lying around, I move quickly and as quietly as possible because he’s stalking me now—him and his rampant erection. The second I have my boots in my hand, I throw open the door and run.

“Cat!” Griffin lunges at air, his bellow echoing off the marble walls. “I should put a bell on you!”

My heart hammering, I run to my old room in the barracks, dress, and then come out as if I’d been there all night. I try not to walk crooked. Maybe Griffin was a little rough? Or maybe this is how I’m supposed to feel—tender and a bit slippery. Regardless, as soon as the adrenaline of running away wears off, a dull soreness sets in.

I find Flynn and Kato in the refectory. They greet me with raised eyebrows since I haven’t had breakfast with them in a while.

“No food in the castle?” Kato asks.

“Food’s better here,” I say, sitting gingerly.

Flynn hands me his juice, which he never drinks. “Fight with Griffin?”

I choke on the sip I was taking. “Not exactly.”

“You’ve got rosy cheeks this morning.” Flynn’s forehead creases as he studies me a little too hard. He means I’m blushing kalaberry red.

“And a suck mark on your neck,” Kato adds, leaning in for a better look.

I shove his chin, pushing him back. “Don’t mess with me. I can punch again now, and it might actually hurt.”

Kato looks intrigued. “How did that happen?”

“Don’t ask. Please, don’t ask.”

He grins, and I’m pretty sure I turn even redder. I get hotter, anyway.

“How’s Griffin?” Flynn asks.

I roll my eyes. “How should I know?”

They burst out laughing, and I scowl. “Fine. Smug and self-satisfied, as usual.”

“Should he be?” Kato’s still grinning. He’s wiggling his eyebrows now, too. I consider burning them off, but I don’t want to accidentally blind him.

“That’s none of your business. Who knew that men were such nosy gossips?” I press my pendant into my chest, glad I have a piece of the Ice Plains to keep me from spontaneously combusting.

Flynn holds out his spice cake. My stomach instantly growls loud enough to be heard three tables over. I’m hungry again!

“That’s yours,” I say, staring at it.

He shrugs. “I don’t need it, and you need to fatten back up.”

Fatten back up? I’m not sure how to feel about that. I take the cake, though.

“Since you probably can’t ride today, or even walk, what should we do?” Kato asks.

Coughing, I blow spice cake crumbs all over the table. “Excuse me?”

“It’s just that Griffin isn’t, er…”

I narrow my eyes at him, and Kato actually turns pink. Ha!

“Known for his gentle nature,” Flynn provides.

“And how many women know that?” The snap in my voice sends their eyebrows bouncing up.

Kato grins again, obviously enjoying my reaction. “Enough for him to know how to please the woman he wants to claim.”

He’s had plenty of practice, then. Lovely. But they’re wrong. Griffin was careful with me. Or maybe I wouldn’t know gentle if it bit me in the ass.

“So, can you walk?” Flynn asks.

I resist the urge to roast them both alive. “I got here, didn’t I? We’re not talking about this anymore. Ever. I have some unexpected last-minute shopping to do for the realm dinner, and you two are taking me to the agora.” I look back and forth between them, giving them my frostiest stare. “And we’ll walk, not ride.” There’s no way I’m getting on a horse today, even one as good-natured as Panotii.

They make noises that sound suspiciously like man giggles.

Griffin strides into the refectory, sword strapped on, boots clomping, and spitting mad. Uh-oh.

He marches straight to our table, hooks his foot around the leg of my chair, pulls it out with a screech of wood on stone, and then drags me up with a biting grip on my upper arms. My heart starts galloping like a herd of Centaurs. I have to tilt my head back to look at him.

“Don’t disappear on me, Cat. Don’t.” He drops me back into my chair, and I land on everything that’s sore. “We’re going to the agora. Now.”

I take a slow breath through my nose, refusing to shift on my seat to find a more comfortable position. “The realm dinner is tomorrow. You have other things to do.”

“I told you I’d take you.”

“I’ll go with Flynn and Kato. We’ll take the girls.”

A muscle feathers along his jaw. I look at him, my expression open and honest. Last night, I altered the course of my entire existence. Adjustments like this don’t come easily for me. I need time. He must know I need time.

Griffin exhales loudly and then nods. “Be back in two hours, or I’m sending the army after you.”

“Three,” I say. “I’ll need to be fitted for a dress, if you’ll recall.”

His nostrils flare. So do his eyes, but not with anger, and heat whips through me. He nods again and then drops a bag of coins onto the table.

* * *

Jocasta, Kaia, and I walk ahead. Flynn and Kato trail a few steps behind. We make our way through winding streets lined with whitewashed homes shaded by overhanging roofs, deep-set windows, and cypress and citrus trees. The cooler, rainy season is approaching, but for now the air is still sunny and dry. Sinta City glows on days like this, but now its radiance is reflected in the faces around us. There are practically no beggar children since most of them are employed at one or another of Piers’s building projects, and the invalids and aging soldiers who used to line the streets sweating in the sun with their hands stretched out for coppers are now somewhere in the shade. Griffin started distributing pensions, even to the people who fought against him. Go figure.

I worried that between cutting taxes and giving away money, he might not have the funds to recruit soldiers, but he said the ex-royals had hoarded enough riches to stop all taxing for a generation if he wants to. I stopped arguing, wondering about the state of Fisa’s finances for the first time in years.

Everywhere in Sinta City, faces are fuller, eyes friendlier. People have more coins in their purses, and the agora is bustling. We walk past the food stalls first, attracting a good deal of attention. The smells of baking bread and roasting meat make my stomach rumble, so I buy a honey-coated bun and eat it while we walk.

Everyone wants to touch the princesses, just a pat on the hand or a flutter of fingers across a shoulder. Just watching all the contact makes me want to crawl out of my skin, but the girls don’t seem to mind. They find a gracious word for everyone. When an old woman with a rickety wagon wants to sell us lemons, I buy ten, not because I need ten lemons, but because she bows low and long to Jocasta and Kaia even though her joints look swollen.

The agora is a kaleidoscope of noises, scents, and colors. I’ve been here many times, but I’ve never seen it like this. Vendors smile and laugh, rush out to greet us, and press gifts into the princesses’ hands. I buy all the new clothes I’ve been needing and two squares of yellow soap that smell like citrus. No one lets me pay full price for anything.

I was wary about taking the girls out with only Flynn, Kato, and me for protection. Not that the three of us are anything to scoff at, but still, it didn’t seem entirely wise even with the new royals’ overwhelming popularity among the Sintan majority. Street children have their fingers in a lot of pies, though, and what goes on at the north wall must have made the rounds of the city because it turns out we didn’t need Kato and Flynn, except to carry packages. Jocasta, Kaia, and even I appear to be universally adored. After weaving through the outdoor marketplace at an agonizingly slow pace, it’s clear that if anyone in Sinta City is stupid enough to even look at one of us wrong, they’ll be shredded by an angry mob.

When we finally wind our way up the hill toward the more exclusive shops, it’s with just enough time left before Griffin sends the army looking for me. I choose a discreet, intimate-looking establishment, and after a quick glance through the selection of ready-made dresses, I decide on an ivory gown with gold trim, finding high-heeled sandals, a geometric-patterned gold belt, and matching shoulder clasps to go with it. I try everything on, and while the seamstress is making final adjustments to the hem, the merchant, who’s handsome and young and showing a particular interest in Jocasta, convinces me to buy a length of braided gold rope to dress my hair.

Satisfied with my purchases and once again in my tunic and pants, I emerge from the back room to find Jocasta having trouble unhooking a necklace she tried on. The merchant goes to her at once, eager to help, but the second his fingers touch her skin, Flynn shoots like a lightning bolt from the shadows where he and Kato were hiding from all the shopping. With a growl, he yanks the man back hard enough to toss him halfway across the room. Jovial Flynn suddenly looks rabid.

Kaia snorts and then sucks the sound back in, making for an interesting combination.

Jocasta’s eyes jump to Flynn’s, tense and grateful. I could swear Flynn’s color rises. He tries to back away, but she holds her hair to one side, and he has little choice but to help her with the necklace himself.

It’s a somewhat awkward walk home, mostly because Flynn and Jocasta act like they can’t see each other even though they’re never more than five feet apart. Griffin is in the Athena courtyard when we arrive. He looks at the sundial, turns on his heel, and goes back inside. Five minutes to spare.

“Let’s meet back here in one hour,” Flynn suggests. “We’ll take lunch to the kids at the north wall.” He’s not looking at me. He’s finally looking at Jocasta.

She nods, and we go our separate ways.

* * *

“That’s a lot of lemons,” Griffin says, following me into the bedroom after dinner.

I found a bowl earlier and put the lemons on the table, using them for decoration instead of handing them over to the kitchens. “The old lady selling them bowed to your sisters, so I bought her lemons.”

“All of them?”

I throw him a dirty look. “No, not all of them.”

He comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist, resting his chin on the top of my head. His earlier irritation seems to be forgotten. I feel more settled, too.

“You’re not nearly as mean as you pretend to be,” Griffin says.

“Oh, I’m mean,” I assure him.

He chuckles. “My apologies. I believe you.”

“Everyone loves them.” I sigh. “They love you all.”

“It seems so.” He sounds pleased, and a little proud.

“It’s revolting.” We both know I don’t mean it.

“Let’s hope Magoi are as easy to win over as Hoi Polloi.”

“Don’t count on it, but if anyone is capable of conquering with charisma and ideas as well as force, it’s you. You have the people. Get the nobles, and most Magoi will follow. Sinta will be locked down.”

He rubs his jaw over my hair and then inhales deeply, as if enjoying the scent he stirs up. “With Sinta definitively stable, we can focus on the next step.”

My gut tightens with worry. Is he talking about increasing Sinta’s defenses and implementing the projects he and Egeria have cooked up, or something else? Something far more dangerous? I don’t want to know. Not tonight. Maybe not ever.

Eager to change the subject, I wiggle out of his arms, sift through my purchases, and then shove the soap at him. “This is for you.”

He looks surprised. “You got me something?”

I roll my eyes. “It’s just soap. And you paid for it.”

“No, you did. I keep forgetting to give you your wages, so I just gave you everything at once.”

“Oh, well, we’ve been busy dying, and healing, and…everything else.”

A smile tugs at his full mouth. “Everything else?” His voice turns gruff. He seems very interested in the everything else part. “Are you sore?”

A fiery blush paints me from top to bottom, but I shake my head. “It’s better now.”

“Good.” Closing the small distance between us, he wraps his arms around my waist and lifts me up, kissing me deeply. “You know what they say about Ares and Aphrodite?”

I twine my arms around his neck. My feet dangle above the floor. He’s strong and broad, and I cling willingly to his warmth. Our lips and tongues begin to dance, and the awareness I always feel around Griffin explodes into fierce, bone-deep desire.

“Cat?” he murmurs against my mouth.

“Hmm?”

“Ares and Aphrodite.”

I’m more interested in kissing. Griffin lets my feet touch the ground again so he can slide his hands over the curve of my bottom and pull me tightly against him. His arousal presses into my belly, and an ache blossoms between my thighs.

“She’s drawn to his violent nature,” I finally say, breathless.

He chuckles, trailing kisses down my neck and unbuckling my belt at the same time. “That, too. But I was thinking of something else. She’s so beautiful, so coveted, that she can have anyone, and yet she returns to him time and again, even though he’s despised by the other Gods. He binds her to him. She can’t live without his touch.”

I frown. “You don’t have to bind me to you with sex.”

Griffin picks me up and carries me to the bed, lying down next to me. “I’ll bind you to me in any way I can. Sex. Children. Love.”

My heart jerks. My lungs suddenly feel too tight. “We’re together. Isn’t that enough?”

He shakes his head. He undresses me, and I let him. “You’re bright like a star. You shine for me now, but the sky turns. Where will you shine tomorrow? Or the day after? I won’t let you go, not without a fight that would make Gods tremble.”

I shiver, rattled by his words. “You’ll regret pledging yourself to me. It will cut your life short.”

“You’re my life now. We’ll live together, or die trying.”

I shiver again, the chills both hot and cold. “You’ve decided, then? For both of us?”

He nods, smoothing his hand down my naked body. His warm fingers come tantalizingly close to where I’m already slick with want.

I shift restlessly. “I should have a say.”

He dips his head and teases my breast with his mouth while his hand inches toward the curls between my thighs. “Then tell me what you want.”

I moan when his finger slides between my folds, gently rubbing. What I say now will have consequences. Words are binding, each one a promise, or a betrayal. He slips a finger inside me, his hot, wide palm putting pressure on my sensitive nub of nerves. I lift my hips and forget all about talking.

“Agapi mou?”

Tension builds quickly inside me. My pulse is a liquid beat, throbbing between my legs. One finger turns into two, thrusting firmly. I tilt my head back and grip the sheets. “I can’t think when you’re touching me.”

Griffin stops and looks up from my damp nipple. “What do you want?”

I want him to go back to touching me so desperately that I might say anything. Luckily, I’m not that stupid. Or rather, I was stupid before. “In case you missed it, I pledged myself to you last night when I accepted your claim and let you spill your life force inside me.”

He doesn’t rise to my baiting tone. “Live together, or die trying?”

It takes a moment to get the words out. I’m worried about Griffin, and the dying part. “Live together, or die trying.”

Griffin’s shoulders relax. He kisses me long and deep, his sword-toughened fingers wonderfully rough against the inside of my thigh. I slip my hands under his tunic and hold him close, pressing my face into his neck and inhaling his subtle, masculine scent.

I kiss his jaw. It’s official—I am an idiot. At least there are two of us now. “Be my Ares and finish what you started. Otherwise, I might just kill you and all of this pledging will be irrelevant.”

He grins. I think he’s going to touch me again, but he doesn’t. He drags his mouth down my body instead. I know where he’s going, and I can’t wait. He nips my hip and then my thigh, nudging my legs apart. Then his mouth begins a slow, delicious torture, his hands holding me steady while I come undone. He takes his time, tasting, teasing, exploring what makes me buck, and finally wringing a staggering release from me, leaving me panting, satiated, and stunned.

Griffin kisses his way back up my stomach and breasts. He stretches out next to me, leaving one heavy hand on my hip. My eyes lock on his fingers, dark against my pale skin. I wonder if I’ll ever get used to the easy way he touches me.

“Your name suits you.” His eyes are heavy-lidded, his thick, black lashes partially obscuring the molten silver beneath. “You sound just like a cat, purring and mewling.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I say, throwing his hand off me.

Griffin looks mildly offended but gets over it when I tug him to the edge of the bed and then take off his shirt. I hop down near the foot of the bed, my feet sinking into the thick rug. I pull him up to standing next to me, undo his belt, and shove his pants down. He steps out of them, already barefoot, and kicks them aside.

My eyes widen at the size of him. His erection still surprises me. And it’s still intimidating. It makes me wonder how wide my jaw opens.

I drop to my knees. I’ve heard men like this.

“Cat!” He pulls me back up. “You don’t have to do anything.”

“You did.”

“That was only to give, and I enjoyed it. A lot. I don’t expect this in return.”

I’m getting more nervous by the second. “You’re very giving. It’s nauseating.”

His lips kick up at the corners. He doesn’t seem too perturbed by my pronouncement. “I don’t need to be bad-tempered twenty-four hours a day to prove I’m strong.”

I bite my lip. I probably deserved that. “Don’t worry,” I say, wiggling out of his grasp and sinking back down. “I have no idea what I’m doing. You might hate it.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath above me when I touch my tongue to his arousal. His voice already strained, he says, “There’s no chance of that.”

I lick him again, this time more boldly. I wasn’t lying. I have no idea what I’m doing. I figure there aren’t too many ways to mess this up, though, so I begin at the top. As I get used to his thickness and the taste of his liquid pearling on my tongue, I take him more fully into my mouth and suck a little on the way back up.

“Good Gods!” Griffin mutters, bracing one hand against the bedpost. The other touches the top of my head, curling into my hair. I move up and down, licking and swirling my tongue. I can’t think of anything else to do, so I take the base of his shaft in my hand and squeeze. His hips buck, so I do it again. His breathing turns unsteady. His fingers tighten in my hair, guiding me into a faster rhythm.

Wanting to draw out the pleasure like he did for me, I rock back on my heels and look up. Griffin is watching me, his face rigid with need. There are other feelings there, too, and the stark emotion makes me want to do more than please him. I want him so delirious for me that he’ll forgive me for anything, no matter what I do, or who I am. I understand what he meant now about Ares and Aphrodite. If I can make him want me enough, maybe he’ll never give up on me.

I cup his balls and lick him from base to tip. Griffin follows my every move, and the way he watches me—the dark intensity, the longing in his eyes, how they blaze with raw desire—spreads through me like a drug. Heady pressure builds low in my abdomen. I grow wetter between my thighs.

I sink down again, taking his shaft far into my mouth. A groan rises in Griffin’s throat. His breath comes faster, in harsh pants. I take him deeper, harder, and a shudder rolls through him.

He reaches for my shoulders and tries to pull me up. “If you keep up like this, I’ll come in your mouth.”

I don’t let him move me. I’m not about to reject his life force. Maybe I’ll end up twice as strong as I was before. I sink my nails into his sculpted backside and suck hard.

His breath rattles above me. “Cat…”

I don’t stop despite his warning tone, trying to make up for what I might lack in skill with sheer enthusiasm.

Griffin throws his head back and roars. The rough sound of his release whips up a storm inside me. Fevered need pulses between my legs. I want him inside me, thrusting hard and fast.

His liquid is warm and salty, and there’s a surprising amount. The spasms stop just when I’m afraid I can’t swallow any more without gagging.

Griffin yanks me up, clutching me against his chest, which rises and falls with labored breaths. “You can spit,” he pants, crushing me against him. “Or throw up if you need to.”

I laugh and then choke a little.

“That was amazing.” He sinks his hands into my hair and rains kisses all over my face. “You’re amazing. I love you.”

My heart flips over, and I bury my nose in his chest. “The things men will say for sex,” I mutter against his sweat-slicked skin.

“It’s after the sex.”

My head jerks up, and I frown. “Really? There’s no more?”

The widest, most disarming grin I’ve ever seen spreads across his face, and I lose my heart entirely. Griffin grips my hips and tosses me back onto the bed. Following me, he kisses and touches and licks and nibbles until I’m thrashing and wild. When he finally comes to me, my whole body thrums with needing him. I moan at the fullness and revel in his firm strokes, meeting them with eager, raised hips as Griffin guides us toward a mutual climax that’s even more intense and shattering than before.

After my storm quiets and our heartbeats calm, we lie together, tangled, sweaty, and spent. Griffin eventually gets up to blow out the lamps before coming back and tucking me against his side. I’m way too hot, but I don’t move or push him away because I just don’t want to.

Happiness is a strange, frightening, fragile feeling when you’re not used to it. I turn into him, laying my hand across his chest and draping my bent leg over his thigh. I guess I can get used to the touching.

With a contented sound, Griffin puts his hand over mine. It engulfs mine, twice its size.

I stare at our joined hands for a long time, wondering what tomorrow will bring.