Ranger Griffin

by Zoe Chant

  He pulled off her clothes, leaving her bare to his hungry gaze. She reached up to him, clasping his wrists and pulling him down to kneel over her. His body heat and masculine scent washed over her, as intoxicating as wine. He reached between her legs and trailed a finger through her slick folds, making her arch and gasp. Electric shivers of pleasure rippled through her at his touch.

  “You drive me out of my mind,” he whispered, his voice low and rumbling. His eyes shone pale, watching her, the moonlight making them look more gray than blue. “I love the way you look when I touch you.”

  Emily couldn’t reply. He was playing with her clit as he spoke, teasing it with the tip of a finger while his other hand caressed her breasts. She writhed on the bed, helpless in the grip of sensation, pushing herself against his skillful fingers. Much as she wanted to enjoy that feeling forever, her body drove her relentlessly toward orgasm. It seemed all too soon that the shuddering waves of bliss crested, and carried her away.

  “Gabriel!” Emily cried out as she came. “Oh, I love you so much.”

  “I love you too, baby,” he said softly, stroking her hair.

  She lay still for a moment, enjoying the afterglow, but then desire once again built in her.

  “Go on,” she murmured. But as he positioned himself above her, she suddenly raised her hand to halt him. “No, wait. I’m not on the pill any more. I could get pregnant.”

  She spoke reluctantly, because once she’d realized that she could get pregnant, she longed to do so. But it wouldn’t just be her baby, it would be Gabriel’s. Any decisions about parenthood had to be made by both of them.

  Gabriel instantly sat back, then moved to lie down beside her. Then his eyes narrowed thoughtfully, his long lashes flickering. “You don’t have to decide now, of course. But just so you know, I’d like to have children. And I’d love to have them with you. That is, if you want to.”

  Emily’s heart felt light as a feather. “Gabriel, there is absolutely nothing I want more than to have a baby with you!”

  He cupped her face in his hands. “Do you want to try now? Or wait?”

  She swallowed. Now she felt the awe of what they were about to do. If she did get pregnant now, it would change her life, and change their life together. She knew what babies meant: sleepless nights, and a whole lot of responsibility. But it was a responsibility she wanted. With all her heart, she longed for a child to hold in her arms, and tell stories to, and play with, and raise together; a child of their own, to cherish and love forever.

  “Let’s try now.” Her voice cracked. Then she grinned. “Imagine a little griffin flying all over the house!”

  He grinned back. Then his face grew more serious as he rose to kneel above her, caressing her curves. She squirmed under his touch, impatient to have him inside her. Her hands involuntarily clenched as her heartbeat sped up. Gabriel’s muscles were trembling with the effort of holding himself back.

  “Come on,” she said. “I’m ready.”

  “I’m more than ready,” he replied, making her giggle.

  Then she gasped as he lowered his powerful body down and slid inside of her. She was soaking wet, so slick and eager that even his massive cock went in easily as a key into a lock.

  “I love the feel of being inside you,” Gabriel whispered. “So hot and wet and tight.”

  She could see in his face, in every line of his body, how much he loved her and how turned on he was by her. And she felt just the same about him. His body, his face, the touch of his hands, his scent, his voice, his cock: everything about him seemed to be made just for her. Each thrust of his steel-hard shaft drew a moan of pleasure from her throat, as much from the knowledge of how excited she made him as from the sensation itself.

  As his thrusts grew harder and faster, Emily waited for his climax with as much anticipation as her own. It wasn’t long before Gabriel gasped, his eyes opening wide, as he jetted streams of heat inside her.

  Maybe this time will be it— Maybe—

  With that thought, she too came, her orgasm exploding within her like a million starbursts against a midnight sky.

  A while later, Gabriel murmured, “Think I should get to work building a crib?”

  “Definitely,” Emily replied. “Carve tiny griffins on the bedposts. And if this didn’t get me pregnant, well, I guess we’ll just have to keep on trying.”

  He kissed her. “It’ll be a hard job, but I think we can manage it.”

  They both laughed. Then they cuddled in the afterglow, warm and content, until Gabriel fell asleep with his hand on her belly.

  It would be a long time before Emily would know if anything had happened this night. But whether she was pregnant or not, she knew in her heart that some day she would be. And then she and Gabriel would have a baby to love. And Emily’s mother and Gabriel’s parents would have a grandchild.

  “My baby,” Emily whispered to herself, smiling. “Our baby. Oh, Gabriel. You’ll be such a great dad.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Gabriel

  “I’ve never been this nervous in my entire life,” Gabriel muttered to Emily as they stood on the porch of his parents’ house. “Not even when I thought I was about to get eaten by a dragon.”

  Emily wriggled against him, trying to get closer. It wasn’t possible; she was already squeezed in as tight as could be, with her arm around his waist. “I’m nervous too. But they know we’re coming. I’m sure it’ll be all—”

  The front door opened, revealing a man and a woman. His parents.

  For a moment, they all just stood and stared. His father had Gabriel’s height and broad shoulders and square jaw; his mother had his smooth black hair and light blue eyes. For the first time in his life, he saw his own features in others—in family.

  His mother was the first to break the spell. She threw herself forward, and Gabriel instinctively opened his arms to catch her.

  “My darling boy,” she whispered. “My son.”

  Gabriel swallowed, trying to clear his throat. Then he said a word he’d never before spoken. “Mom.”

  They held each other tight, and he felt her tears dampen his cheek. A moment later, they were joined by his own.

  When they finally let each other go, his father caught him up in a bone-cracking hug.

  “Dad,” Gabriel said. This time he managed to get a few more words out. “I’m so glad I found you.”

  His father’s voice was rough, and his brown eyes had a liquid gleam. “Same here. Same here, son. We’ve spent twenty-nine years thinking you were dead.”

  “How did that happen?” Gabriel asked. “All I know is that I was found as a baby, in a field in Iowa.”

  “Iowa!” his mother exclaimed, then looked thoughtful. “Yes... I think I see how that could have happened.”

  “We were on an airplane,” his father explained. “I know that sounds strange, when we can fly. But you couldn’t fly—you were much too young. And we were taking you to visit someone who was too old to fly across the country, your grandmother in New York City. The plane was struck by lightning and broke apart in midair. Everyone was thrown in different directions.”

  “You were in a baby seat,” his mother said, gulping back tears. “It was supposed to be safer. If you’d been in my arms, I’d have been able to hang on to you. But it just went whirling away. You were gone before I had a chance to grab you.”

  “Your mother and I shifted,” his father went on. “We couldn’t find you, but we each managed to save a few people we happened to be close to.”

  “How in the world did you explain that?” Emily asked.

  “We were invisible,” Gabriel’s mother said with a shrug. “We put them down on the ground, then flew away. They had no idea what happened. We stayed invisible and in griffin form for hours and hours, flying low over the wreckage, searching for you. But part of the plane had fallen into Lake Superior, and some of those bodies were never found. We finally had to accept that you were one of them.”

  Gabriel
felt terrible for his parents, who had grieved over him for so many years, but was still puzzled by the mystery. “But how did I get to Iowa?”

  We flew, his griffin said unexpectedly. I remember now.

  “Oh—” Gabriel said. “My griffin says I flew.”

  His parents looked at each other and nodded.

  “I thought so,” said his mother. “Usually griffins can’t shift until they’re older—four or five at the youngest. But when it came down to shift or die, you managed it.”

  “And you just kept on flying,” his father said. “All the way to Iowa. Amazing! You weren’t even a year old.”

  I remember being afraid, his griffin said. I was looking for my parents. Finally my wings just wore out. And after that, it was years before I could remember how to fly again.

  Gabriel repeated what his griffin had said. There was a long silence. Gabriel wondered if his parents were thinking about what he was: the long years they’d spent separated, and the joy, almost too much to be believed, of their reunion.

  His mother broke the silence. “Would you like to come inside? Or—I don’t know if you and your, ah, lady friend would find this odd or uncomfortable, but your father and I sometimes like to sit on the grass in the backyard.”

  “The grass,” Emily said instantly, then ducked her head in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Gabriel should decide.”

  “The grass,” Gabriel said, grinning. “And she’s not my lady friend, she’s my mate. She’s a griffin herself.”

  “Your mate!” his mother exclaimed. “Oh, I’m very pleased to meet you, Emily.”

  Emily started to offer her hand, but Gabriel’s parents ignored it and hugged her instead. When they released her, Emily looked much more comfortable. Apparently the grass exchange had broken the ice.

  His parents’ house was out in the country, a hundred miles south of Blue Oak National Park. It had taken Emily and Gabriel three hours to fly there, soaring invisibly among the clouds and watching the landscape change from winter white to sun-bright green. The house was nestled amongst the woods, with a front yard containing a wild profusion of roses of all colors, white and yellow, pink and red, striped like peppermint candy and shaded like violet silk, growing in thorny thickets and climbing up the house.

  Because of that, Gabriel guessed that “the grass” wouldn’t be a neatly mowed lawn. But he was still pleasantly surprised when they all went out to the backyard, and he saw that it was a forest glade with dappled sunlight shining on an expanse of untrimmed grass and wildflowers, with butterflies floating all around.

  His parents excused themselves to fetch refreshments. Gabriel and Emily sat down and looked around in admiration, then at each other.

  “What do you think?” he asked.

  She waved her hand at the tall trees surrounding them, then at the carpet of brilliant orange poppies and sweet-scented purple clover. “I think you’re a chip off the old block. Your parents seem great, Gabriel. I like them already.”

  “Me too,” he said softly. “I’d worried that I wouldn’t get along with them—or they wouldn’t get along with me. I mean, we really don’t know each other. But they don’t feel like strangers. And this doesn’t feel like a strange place. It feels like coming home.”

  His parents returned with two pitchers and a picnic basket, which they unpacked to reveal the most impressive picnic lunch Gabriel had ever seen. His parents must have been in the kitchen all day making this feast. The pitchers contained watermelon lemonade and a sparkling wine with a light flavor of pears. To eat, they had cold roast chicken, beef and bacon pie, deviled eggs, corn and cucumber salad, tangerines, rich chocolate tarts topped with fresh raspberries, and a deliciously sticky cornmeal cake topped with glazed orange slices.

  For a while, there was no talk, only happy eating and drinking. A huge butterfly landed on Emily’s shoulder, its electric-blue wings gently wafting up and down.

  “This is wonderful,” Emily said contentedly. “I’ll have to get your recipe for the cornmeal cake. And the tarts. And the pie...”

  “Oh, do you like to cook?” Gabriel’s mother asked. “Maybe we can make dinner together.”

  “I can help,” Gabriel offered. “I cook too.”

  “Put me to work,” added his father. “I’ll chop vegetables or whatever you need. Just tell me what to do.”

  A delighted smile lit up Emily’s lovely face. “This is so homey! You know, I wanted to see Gabriel meet his family, but I didn’t expect to feel like it was my family too.” Then she broke off, looking nervous. “I hope that wasn’t too much.”

  “Absolutely not,” replied his father. “We want you to be part of the family.”

  “Please think of yourself as our daughter, Emily,” his mother said. “I’m so happy Gabriel found you.”

  “If it was anything like the way we met, they probably found each other,” his father remarked. “How did it happen?”

  “It’s a long story,” Emily began.

  “But a good one, I bet,” said his father. “Go ahead. We’ve got all the time in the world.”

  “Well, it all began when my boss forwarded me an email from a farmer who said a pterodactyl buzzed his tractor...”

  As his parents chuckled, Gabriel clasped Emily’s hand. His heart was too full to speak. After an entire life of believing that he was alone in the world, he’d finally come home.

  Epilogue

  Emily

  Emily sank down on the sofa with a sigh of relief. Pregnancy had its ups and downs, and one of the downs was that her feet always hurt. They just couldn’t get used to bearing the extra weight. She put them up on the sofa, then wriggled around to see out the window so she could keep an eye on her daughter Julie, who was playing in the trees outside.

  It was two days after Christmas. Gabriel’s parents had flown home on eagle wings, and Gabriel had taken the car to drop off Emily’s mother at the airport. The grandparents had stayed for three days, cooking and opening presents and playing with Julie. The house seemed very quiet with just Emily inside.

  The tree was still in the living room, lavishly decorated with strings of tinsel and dried wild berries, gilded pine cones and paper snowflakes, delicate glass globes and silver bells, and an entire zoo’s worth of Gabriel’s carved animals. Brought to life with Gabriel’s skill, huge-eyed wooden sugar gliders dangled from strings, caught in mid-flight. Opossoms curled their tails around thin branches. All over the tree, lions roared and foxes pounced, deer leaped and snakes slithered, meerkats stood up and hippos yawned and peacocks fanned their tails. A griffin family was perched at the very top, preening and playing and guarding the cubs.

  As she watched her daughter play, Emily thought back over the last four years. It had been such a rollercoaster ride. Meeting Gabriel. Meeting Gabriel’s family. Becoming a griffin. Telling her mother that she was a griffin. Getting pregnant. Giving birth. Leaving her job as a reporter to become a photographer and an author of coffeetable books and cookbooks, all illustrated with her own photos. Hitting the bestseller list with her Blue Oak Wild Eats series, which mixed spectacular nature photography with recipes inspired by wild plants and game.

  She picked up her latest from the table, running her finger over its glossy cover. Blue Oak Cakes and Pies was emblazoned over a photo of a luscious wild berry pie.

  Maybe I’ll do Blue Oak Picnics next, she thought, remembering that lavish picnic meal Gabriel’s parents had made for them when they’d first met. I could do the chocolate tart with huckleberries instead of raspberries. The cover could have a photo of berry bushes in the snow. Red and white. Very Christmassy.

  The front door opened, and Gabriel strode into the living room. He too sank down on the sofa, and gave a sigh of relief that sounded so much like Emily felt that she giggled.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked.

  “You are.” At his look of confusion, she explained, “I sighed just like that when I sat down. Only in my case, it was because my feet hurt.”

 
He immediately laid them in his lap and began to massage them, so skillfully that Emily gave another sigh—this one of pleasure.

  “You can massage me like that all over,” she said dreamily.

  “I will tonight,” he promised.

  “I’ll hold you to it.” Then, recalling his relief at returning home, she said, “I thought you were happy to have the whole family together—yours and mine.”

  “I was,” Gabriel assured her. “It just started to feel a bit... crowded. It’s nice to have you and Julie all to myself again.”

  “I know what you mean.” Emily ruffled his hair, then squirmed as the movement pulled her blouse across her belly. “I swear it wasn’t this tight yesterday. All my book money is going to go toward maternity clothes.”

  Gabriel lovingly stroked her bulging belly, then held up his fingers in headline quotes. “I’ll get you something from ‘Winter’s Warm Woolens.’ Want a nice soft flannel shirt dress?”

  Emily smiled, laying her hand over his. She felt full to bursting with life and love. “Sure. Give me a bathrobe cord, and I’ll do a fashion show.”

  As Gabriel laughed, Julie flew in through the open window, her little wings pumping madly and snowflakes dotting her fluffy kitten-like fur.

  Gabriel’s parents had said that most griffins shifted for the first time when they were seven or eight, so both he and Emily had been startled when Julie had become a tiny griffin and zoomed around the house when she was only four. But his parents had assured them that early shifting wasn’t a bad sign. It just meant that her inner griffin felt safe.

  Julie landed on the sofa with a thump, then shifted into a little girl. “I heard fashion show! I want to do a fashion show! Mommy, do my hair with sparkle beads, and I’ll wear my princess dress. And the dragonslayer sword Grammy gave me for Christmas!”

  “Dragons are our friends,” Gabriel said. “Like Winter and Florin. You wouldn’t want to slay them.”

  “You’re silly, Daddy,” Julie said, wrinkling her nose at him. “Of course real dragons are nice. It’s a pretend sword, to pretend-slay pretend dragons. Bad pretend dragons!”