Paralyzing me. I can’t protect anyone that way, or even live long enough for Little Bean to take her first breath.
Griffin gently clasps my face in his hands. “You’re constantly fighting yourself. You’re your own worst enemy, Cat. You have to refocus.”
I’m pretty sure Mother is my worst enemy, but… “Refocus?” I ask.
“You don’t fight her like you fight any other threat. You need to stop thinking of her as your mother. She’s never been that. She’s been your adversary since the day you were born. Fight her like you did Galen Tarva, your brothers, or the other teams in the Agon Games. You give everyone their chance at mercy. If they opt out, they get crushed. Crush her, Cat. Crush her for both of us. For all three of us,” he says, “and for whatever else our future holds.”
His words conjure an image of a whole castle full of little dark heads. Home. Family. I want that. I want it so much it hurts.
I tuck the vision away, keeping it safe for now. “But how? My lightning doesn’t work, at least not consistently, and Mother seems to know every trick I don’t.”
“You’re stronger than she is. Inside and out.”
“But I hesitate with her when I don’t with anyone else, and I can’t seem to stop.” The one more chance syndrome I’ve developed where Mother is concerned is going to get me killed—get all of us killed—if I don’t find a cure for it soon.
“You also have something she’ll never have—me, Little Bean, our friends and family. Reasons to live.”
Those heartwarming reasons bring a sudden prick of tears to my eyes. Stepping back from him, I smile a little wryly. “When did you get so wise?”
Griffin looks down at me, his face perfectly serious. “The day I decided you were the most important thing in my life, and always will be.”
I huff a small breath. “Very smooth.” Okay, I’m thrilled.
He winks. “I know.”
“The Gods are gone.” I look around, just to make sure they haven’t come back. “I still had questions.”
“Like what?” Griffin asks.
“Like how to get rid of these wings. And how to make sure my lightning will work when I need it to.”
Griffin takes my hand and starts leading me toward the barn. The sky is darkening, and not only because of the smoke from the still-burning house. “I’m pretty sure they’ll be around,” he says. “You can ask them later.”
“I want to know now.”
He turns to me as we walk, his dark brows lifting. “Right now?”
“Yes, now!”
He nods. “I see what you’re doing. You’re giving me practice for when Little Bean turns two.”
My mouth falls open. I pinch his side. “That was completely uncalled for.”
He slides out of my grip. “So was the pinch.”
I give him the evil eye. Actually, I give him two. “So, Your Arrogant-I-Know-Everythingness, how do you think I get rid of the wings?”
Griffin’s gaze roams over me in a way that makes my heart start to race. His voice gains a husky resonance. “I like the wings.”
I feel myself flush. “Fine. Great. But I’d like to control their sliding in and out.”
Heat sparks in his eyes. “Sliding in and out?”
I press my lips together to keep from smiling, but warmth spreads through me, and my blush deepens. “Griffin!” He’s incorrigible. Insatiable. Thank the Gods. “This is serious.”
He instantly puts on his warlord face and answers earnestly. “I think the wings are like the lightning. Both come straight from your Olympian blood, but while the lightning is magic, the wings are inherent to the framework of your body. Theoretically, you should be able to control the in and out of both—the lightning with your will and your mind, and the wings with your muscles and bones, almost like raising an arm or reaching out.”
“Theoretically?”
“Yes, although the lightning has proved temperamental so far. The wings might, too. But then again, so have you.”
I snort. Loudly.
His hand smacks down on my bottom, and he hauls me up against him. My front collides with his bare chest, and I grip his shoulders, reveling in the heat of his skin.
“The warlord face is an act, isn’t it? You have other things on your mind.” I know I’m starting to.
“Warlord face?”
I nod. “The scowly, serious one.”
He grunts, and then his mouth descends on mine. I kiss him back, deep and hard, desperate to get closer still. When we pull apart, our breathing is ragged, and Griffin’s eyes gleam with want.
“Keep kissing me like that, and we won’t make it to the barn,” he says thickly.
“I don’t need a barn. I need you.” We came so close to losing each other today. I need to feel him, touch him, to know that he’s okay.
“Cat.” He leans his forehead against mine, his quick breaths fanning my lips. His eyes close but then pop open again almost instantly, looking haunted.
He swallows. “I can’t stop seeing you crash through that window. Fall…” His hands fist in the back of my tunic, gripping hard. “I forbid you to die. Or to ever scare me like that again. Do you understand me?” he demands, his voice so low I barely hear the tremor in it.
I shiver, but I shake my head. “I’ll do my best, but I can’t promise you that. You know I can’t.”
“I put you in danger. I forced you out of hiding. I brought you to this.” His expression turns pained. “You were safe before you met me.”
“No.” He shouldn’t believe that. “I was never safe. But I was never happy, either.”
“But you could be safe.” Those haunted eyes turn frantic, and I think the downswing of all that fear and adrenaline is hitting him now and pushing him into shaky territory. He held it together to keep me from falling apart, but there’s only so much a person can take.
“Griffin—”
He slices his head back and forth, cutting me off. “We’ll stop. We’ll stop here.” His eyes dart from side to side, although I doubt he means here here. “Your mother won’t live forever. We’ll wait her out. I’ll keep you safe. You and Little Bean. I swear it, Cat. That’s all that mat—”
“Stop.” I put my finger over his lips, quieting his agitated words. “We don’t have a choice. Not anymore.”
“We do. You. Me. Castle Sinta. We’ll put as much distance as possible and two realms’ worth of soldiers between Fisa and us.”
“You mean all those soldiers we recruited on the hope for a safer kingdom for everyone? Who believed in us? Who came to us of their own free will? Use them as a buffer for our own safety and not even try to deliver on our promise?”
He flinches away from me, his jaw clenching hard.
“What happened to refocus?” I ask. “To crush her? Maybe I can, and maybe I can’t. I don’t know, but I’m willing to try. I can’t forget about all the people who have rallied to us. Who chant ‘Elpis’ at our gate. Who are waiting for us to change their lives. Suddenly, it’s ‘to the Underworld with them’?” I shake my head. “That’s not you. I know it’s not.”
A long moment of silence goes by while he simply looks at me. Finally, in an utter monotone, Griffin says, “You matter more to me.”
My Kingmaker Magic doesn’t ignite. He means every word.