by Melissa Haag
“Is it safe to come in?” Eliana asked.
I nodded. Fenris had done his job and calmed me down by distracting me from my own drama. He was right. Eliana wasn’t ready to know about his interest in her. Was it just interest, though? That thought led back to thoughts of Oanen as my friends joined me in the kitchen.
“Still want to make brownies?” Eliana asked.
“Yes. I’m sorry for losing it. Yet again.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she said with a wave of her hand. “What are you going to do about Fenris?”
“Nothing. There’s nothing to do. He’s just a friend.”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s a lot of friendly hugging.”
“I’ve kissed you. Do you see me as more than a friend?”
“Fair enough.”
I sat in the chair and let Ashlyn and Eliana do most of the batter prep while I considered my situation with Oanen.
“I just don’t see how this will end well for him,” I said.
“Him who?” Ashlyn asked before licking some chocolate off her finger.
“Oanen.”
“It’ll be fine because you know you’re meant to punish the wicked,” Eliana said. “Just like I know I’m supposed to turn into a raving sex-addict and feed off the sexual energy of the thousands of poor souls I’ll enslave in my lifetime. Who says I have to start now? Who says when you see wickedness you need to punish the person right on the spot. There’s no timer for any of it, except these urges we get. So, next time, ask yourself why you need to rush it. Tell yourself you’re taking your time to discover what the person did and even more time to weigh a suitable punishment. Be creative. Why let the gods have so much control even after they’re long gone?”
What she said made sense. The gods had far too much control when they weren’t even around.
Ten
I lifted my hand off the book and let it fly back to its home on the shelf. My stomach growled as I stood and went to fetch the next one. Breakfast had been hours ago, long before sunrise.
Arriving at the Academy early had served two purposes. I’d avoided Oanen and given myself more time to look through the books. Fenris’ revelation had opened my eyes to the value of knowing more about all the creatures here. So, while I hoped to stumble across a book that would tell me something useful about griffins, I no longer skimmed everything not related to my current topic of interest.
I still found most of what I read useless, though.
Taking the new book back to my chair, I opened the thin volume to the first page and started reading about harpies.
When I felt a cool breeze on my neck along with a mild tingle of annoyance that shivered over my skin, I remained focused on the book. When a heavy hand knocked on the door moments later, I ignored that, too. I wasn’t in the mood to acknowledge Adira or face Oanen.
The breeze vanished, and the knocking stopped.
I glanced at the high window above the shelves. Plenty of daylight still remained. That meant it was lunchtime. Although my stomach voted for food, I voted for more seclusion. I needed time to just be me. Time to calm down so when I saw Oanen next, I wouldn’t melt the rest of his hair.
Focusing on the book once more, I spent the next hour reading.
“Yet another race screwed over by the gods,” I said, taking my hand from the book.
I stood with a stretch and grabbed the next one as I glanced at the window. Lunch would be over by now, and the next session in progress. I decided to stay another hour then bail.
My intentions flew from my mind when I opened the book and read the first line.
Like most creatures of the gods, griffins do not reveal the secrets of their existence lightly. The information contained within these pages has been documented at great personal risk. Make no mistake; if any griffin finds this book, any person known to have read these pages will be brought before the Council to have their memories wiped. Read on at your own peril.
James Whitenmore ~ 1927
Since Adira knew what was in the library, I knew I’d suffer little peril. However, as I turned the page and began reading again, I did wonder what had happened to the author since the book now resided here.
Griffins were created for a single purpose: to guard and protect humanity against those creatures who would destroy us humans. However, there are not many griffins in existence. Their low population is perhaps due to all griffins being male. Based on my research, they are able to compatibly mate with any race. However, they only produce one male offspring with their chosen life-mate. Offspring are typically conceived not long after the bonding flight, the first flight for both the griffin and his life-mate, which they take together. A bonded pair…
I turned the page, eager for more, and found a blank sheet. Close to the spine, I spotted the jagged remnants of missing pages.
“Come on! Isn’t censorship against the constitution?”
Releasing the book, I let it fly back to the shelf. I’d discovered enough to know I wanted to leave before the next session break.
I quietly left the library, collecting my things from the basket in the hall before scurrying down the empty corridors.
Outside, I went to where I’d parked my smashed car and found an empty spot.
“Smashing and now stealing?” I mumbled.
I lifted my phone, ready to message Fenris for another sniff-check, and found several missed texts from three of my four contacts. I read Eliana’s first.
I told Oanen you know. Please don’t hate me forever. He made me promise weeks ago. Please call me soon.
My stomach twisted with anxiety. Yet, I knew that Oanen knowing that I knew about the whole mate thing was probably for the best.
Closing her message, I opened the one from Oanen.
Saw your windshield and had someone pick up the car to fix it. I’ll give you a ride home. We need to talk.
I growled and set off at a jog through the trees. Yes, we obviously had to talk. I just needed to postpone it for a while and give him more time to heal because I didn’t trust myself to stay in control during that discussion.
More than twenty minutes later, I sat down on my kitchen chair with a relieved sigh and opened Fenris’ message.
I know who it is. He won’t bother you again.
The fury in me wanted to demand a name. I went for a brownie to shut her up.
For the next several minutes, I relaxed and composed a carefully worded text to Oanen so he wouldn’t come looking for me when the final session ended.
No longer need a ride. Don’t call me. I’ll call you.
I hit send and leaned back into the couch.
“That wasn’t so bad.”
My phone immediately started ringing.
“Crap.” I didn’t touch the thing until the call went to voicemail.
A new text came through from Oanen.
I’m coming over.
The air around me started to smell like an overheated dryer. I quickly stood from the couch and sent him a reply.
Back off, fly-boy, or I’ll rip your wings off.
I stared at the phone. Just when I thought Oanen wouldn’t respond, a new message came through.
I’ll see you tomorrow.
* * * *
“So how long exactly do you plan to avoid him?” Eliana asked.
I propped the phone up with my shoulder and turned off the TV.
“It’s only been an hour since I texted him. I wouldn’t call that avoidance.”
“You threatened to rip his wings off.”
“He threatened to come over.”
“That wasn’t a threat,” she said. “He’s worried about you.”
“Well, I’m worried about me, too. I almost toasted my couch.”
“Seriously. It’s only going to get more awkward. Just talk to him.”
I stared at the dark TV screen. There was no denying how much I wanted to talk to Oanen. My insides went hot just at the idea of seeing him, of being near him. I wanted it so m
uch. And that worried me.
“I can’t,” I admitted. “Not until his face is healed.”
“You don’t have to talk to him in person, you know. You do have a phone.”
There was something about her tone and her persistence that gave her away, and I sighed in understanding.
“He’s standing right there, isn’t he?” I asked.
“He is,” she said, sounding only a smidge guilty.
The phone became muffled as it switched hands, and my chest tightened in anticipation. How pathetic was I? I’d burnt Oanen so badly he was still sporting scabs, and guilt ate at my insides every time I pictured his face. Yet, I couldn’t wait to talk to him or see him. Why couldn’t I stop wanting him so much?
“I just need to know you’re all right.”
The low sound of his voice broke me as much as his words.
“I’m not,” I admitted softly. “I don’t know what to think, and what I feel is all over the place. I feel crazy and out of control. Why didn’t you tell me that helping me off the roof would bond us? What if I don’t want to be bonded? I’m not even sure I am ready for dating.”
The one thing I did feel certain about was that I’d trapped Oanen into a relationship just like Aubrey had tried trapping Fenris. I angrily wiped away the moisture from my cheek, smearing blood across my fingers.
“Please don’t cry,” Oanen said. “The sound of your tears hurts more than any burn you could give me.”
“Well, they aren’t making me happy, either.”
“Let me come over.”
“No. Don’t. I just need some time.”
“You’re saying no with your words, but I can feel your pain. Your need for me.”
“You can feel me?” I said, freaking out even more. “There has to be a way to undo this, right?”
“This is why I didn’t want Eliana to say anything. There’s so much I need to tell you. Talking like this isn’t helping. Please let me come over. If not tonight, tomorrow. You won’t hurt me. I promise.”
“No. I need more time. I’ll call you when I’m ready.”
I listened to his slow exhale, wishing he were right beside me instead of across town. I imagined his arms around me and another quiet tear fell.
“Don’t make me wait too long.”
* * * *
Tuesday, I woke early to the sound of my phone, which had remained quiet after last night’s call. I lifted it and read the message from Eliana asking if I wanted a ride to the Academy since I had no car. I wanted to beat whoever had broken my window. That one act of pissiness put me in an uncomfortable position. If I said yes to a ride, Oanen would come with Eliana. I wasn’t ready for that. However, if I said no to a ride and stayed home, Adira might zap my ass to the Academy. And, although I wanted to see if I could find anything more in the library about griffins, I didn’t trust myself to keep my distance from Oanen.
I sent a quick text saying no to Eliana then another to Ashlyn, asking for Eugene, Kelsey, and Zoe’s numbers. While waiting for a reply, I showered and dressed to ensure I wouldn’t end up in the halls unprepared again.
When I checked my phone, I had a reply from Ashlyn, an acknowledgement from Eliana, and a new message from Oanen. I read Oanen’s first.
I’ll let Adira know you won’t be in today.
That was it. There was no ranting or begging. Just Oanen taking care of me like he always did. Could he be any more perfect? I doubted it.
I sighed and sent quick texts asking each of the three new residents of Uttira if they needed anything and if they planned on attending the Academy. Kelsey and Zoe both answered that they were doing well but taking things slowly and didn’t plan on attending until next term. Eugene said he’d be there Friday after he received his new clothes because he didn’t want to look like a homeless drifter anymore.
Making a mental note that I would need to go in Friday, I looked around for something else to keep me busy.
I cleaned the house with a vengeance. Floors, that weren’t really dirty, got swept and scrubbed, including the stairs. I dusted the bedrooms, washed the bedding, and de-webbed ceiling corners. In the kitchen, I washed cabinets and removed everything from the fridge before washing the inside of that, too.
By the time I reached the library, I only opened the door I’d shut long ago, gave the room a glance, and closed the door again. The sun had set, and I was exhausted.
I made myself a quick dinner then went to bed. I thought of Oanen as I closed my eyes and wondered if his day had been as boring without me as my day had been without him.
Thinking of him just before sleeping proved unwise. I dreamt of him flying around endlessly in a storm, searching for me. Lightning hit him repeatedly, burning his feathers and scorching his skin, but he refused to land and stop his search. When I woke drenched in my own sweat, it was because I’d witnessed him die from a lightning strike straight to his heart. It hadn’t come from the sky, but from my hands when he’d finally found me.
I wiped my face and sat up, shaking. Sunlight already lit the room, not that the brightness helped ease the fear I felt. I’d killed Oanen. With fire.
I picked up my phone and hesitated. Sending him a message to ask him to let Adira know I wouldn’t be in again felt mean. Yet, after that dream, I couldn’t ignore the warning.
I won’t be in again today. Maybe tomorrow, I sent.
A moment later, he replied.
I’ll let Adira know.
How could four words convey so much sadness? Maybe because of my own misery.
I set the phone aside and went back to sleep.
After several hours, I woke again and got ready for another boring day. Since I’d cleaned yesterday, I decided to make a mess in the kitchen. Using the internet, I found a recipe for chocolate mousse layer cake and spent the next three hours baking then eating my creation. Chocolate had to have soul-healing powers because, after a few bites, life didn’t feel as bad.
Before I finished washing the mess of dishes I’d made, the rumble of an engine reached my ears. Frowning, I grabbed a towel for my hands and went toward the door just in time to see my car come to a stop. A sheen of familiar golden hair flashed through the newly repaired windshield. My heart thumped heavily, and I stepped closer to the door.
Oanen got out. He didn’t look up at the house, instead he kept his eyes trained on the car. He set his hand on the roof and closed his eyes, a look of anguish crossing his features.
An aching need twisted in my chest. I couldn’t stand seeing him hurt like that. Even burned, he hadn’t looked so tormented.
I opened the door. His expression immediately closed off before his gaze met mine through the screen.
“Adira says that I can’t really hurt anything in this house,” I said, my heart beating faster. “It’d be better if you came inside.”
He lifted his hand from the car and slowly stalked toward me. My pulse raced in anticipation and concern.
He didn’t hesitate on the steps but took the door from my fingers and let himself in. I slowly backed away, keeping our personal bubbles intact.
His deep blue eyes studied me for a long moment.
“I never meant to hurt you,” he said softly.
“You didn’t. I understand why you didn’t want me to know. I mean, I freaked out just like you’d anticipated, right?”
“Are you still freaking out?”
“Yes. My heart feels like it’s trying to pound its way out of my chest.”
“I know.” He looked away for a moment. “But, I don’t know how to make this easier, Megan. How to ease your fears.”
“I don’t think you can. Without knowing what I can do and how to control it, I’m going to keep being terrified that I’m going to hurt you.”
“You won’t,” he said, stepping closer.
I immediately retreated a step.
“Your face is already red. I can feel my own heat, like there’s a fire inside of me growing each second I’m with you. It’s not anger. It�
�s need. I’m so desperate for you it’s insane. I want you to hold me, but I know what will happen if—”
He moved fast, closing the distance between us and wrapping his arms around me.
“Oanen,” I whispered in warning.
“Don’t push me away. I need this just as badly.”
I couldn’t push him away if I wanted to. We fit perfectly, and I melted against him, laying my head on his chest against my better judgement.
“You’re going to get burned again,” I said.
“Your burns hurt less than your silence.”
His hands rubbed small circles on my back, soothing and comforting me. I lifted my head to look up at him.
“We need to talk about what’s going on, though.”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
I wanted to say “bonding flights” but could only manage to mouth the words.
“Stupid library,” I mumbled. I set my head back on his chest and felt him swallow hard before holding me tighter.
“I’d ask what else you learned in the library but know you wouldn’t be able to answer.” His hand stroked all the way down my back. I liked how he touched me.
“How about you just tell me everything then?” I said.
“I don’t want to upset you more.”
I didn’t see how he could.
“I’m not ready for kids, by the way.”
His hands stopped moving.
“I know you’re not. We’re taking this at our own pace, no matter what you read in the library.”
“Good. That makes me a little less freaked out. So what are we exactly?”
“Bonded.”
“And what does being bonded to a griffin mean? You said you could feel me. Were you serious?”
“Yes. Just the strong emotions. When you’re happy, sad, angry, hurting.”
“What am I now?”
“Still upset.”
“Probably because you’re starting to smell like burnt toast,” I said, lifting my head.
He let me go, and I took several steps back. His face looked sunburned, and I was willing to bet he had new blisters on his chest where I’d set my head.
“Don’t apologize,” he said. “Those aren’t the words I want to hear.”
“What do you want to hear, then?”
