“Thalyria matters, too,” I say gently. “And that’s okay.”
His mouth flattens, and the arms he still has wrapped around me harden from tension he can’t seem to govern. “Thalyria may matter, but I choose you. I will always choose you.”
I look up into his eyes, emotion clogging my throat. “You can choose me. That’s your right. I’ll choose Thalyria—for both of us.”
He curses and then grinds out, “It’s not worth it. It’s not worth your life.”
“I used to think that, too. But then I met a warlord who took over a realm because he didn’t like the way it was run. People there are happy now. Settled. Prosperous. More so than in centuries.”
His eyes narrow. Yes, I’m playing dirty, but that’s the only way I know how, even if it means catching him in his own idealistic net.
“If no one fights for a better world, there is no better world. We’ve started this now, Griffin. You can’t go halfway and then stop.”
“I can if it means losing you.”
“I’m not the same person I was last summer. You opened my eyes. You spent weeks convincing me to see the bigger picture, the greater good, and I can’t just close them now because that’s convenient for me, or us, or because we might get hurt.”
“Might?” he growls.
“You saw something in me. You saw the light when all I saw was the dark. You made me believe there was more to me than the blood I’ve shed, the sister I lost, or the realm I abandoned. You broke through the…dread in me and filled the emptiness inside me with hope. Elpis,” I say. “I’m Elpis because of you. Because of us, together. I can’t turn my back on that, and you can’t ask me to. It’s too powerful, too much a part of me now. I can’t change that. And I don’t want to.”
Griffin’s eyes flick down and then back up again, his pain and love laid bare across his features. His throat moves on a hard swallow. “I’m afraid of losing you. Or leaving you too soon. I don’t want you to have to fight alone.”
A spasm arrows through my chest. “I understand what you’re feeling. I feel it every day, too. Am I scared? Yes. Do I know if we’ll succeed?” I shake my head. “But not trying… That would be worse than ignoring the gift of Elpis. That would be betraying it, and betraying everyone who’s placed their faith in me.”
A war of emotions crosses Griffin’s face. I reach up and lay my hand on his cheek, and he leans in to me, even though his jaw stays rigid. Standing together, I tell him what’s in my heart.
“When I close my eyes, I don’t see my death. I see people looking at me with a spark of hope just starting to burn in their gazes, hope that springs from me. It’s mine to either snuff out or ignite into the kind of fire that reshapes the world. I see you right next to me, looking at me like you did during those days when we were tied together with a rope, and I had no idea what to think, or do, or whether I should help you. You knew then, for both of us, and I grew to trust you. I know now, and I need you to trust me this time. I don’t know how to finish what we started, but if we stop here, I let the darkness back in. Into me. Into everyone. And it’ll consume me with guilt.”
His face twists from the conflict inside him. “I can’t lose you. Our baby…”
“Then fight alongside me. Fight for Little Bean’s future. Help me be strong.”
Abruptly, he pulls back from me, shaking his head. “I didn’t understand before, no matter what you said, or what happened with those creatures your mother was driving. I see her for what she is now. We’re better off in Sinta.”
“Of course we’re better off in Sinta. But I’m not giving up, and neither are you. That’s not you, Griffin. Mother is cruel, soulless, and horrifically violent. Now you’ve seen. Now you know. You just need time to adjust after your first physical encounter with her.”
“Adjust?” His eyes flare. “Adjust to the idea of you in a pool of your own blood?”
I snort softly. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”
Griffin’s face goes blank for a split second before flushing darkly.
Uh-oh. My stomach flips over. Wrong thing to say.
His eyes rake over me, over my bloody clothing. Then he reaches out, grips the neck of my tunic with both hands, and pulls hard in opposite directions, ripping it clean in half. The torn garment hangs from my shoulders, fluttering on a cool breeze that feathers over my skin and makes me shiver.
Griffin undresses me, his eyes as steely and focused as the rest of him. My belt hits the ground, and my pants drop to my ankles, pooling around my boots in what I’m sure is a very attractive manner. Griffin steps back, glaring at my mostly naked body.
I stare back. I’m not sure what this stripping is about, or what he needs to do, but I’m going to let him figure it out.
“Still blood everywhere,” he mutters. He dips down and then lifts me up, slinging me over his shoulder. His arm clamps around the back of my knees.
I grip his hips and push off to keep from bouncing against his back when he starts walking. His free hand rips my boots from my feet, and my pants slide the rest of the way off. We leave a trail of clothing across the meadow.
“Griffin?”
“I’ll never adjust to the idea of you dying. To the Underworld with the greater good. The idealist who tied you up with a magic rope to keep Sinta in good hands? Gone,” he says flatly. “You and Little Bean—that’s all that matters. And Alpha Fisa beat us today.”
“Beat us? We’re both still here. She had to run away!”
“She ran away because two Gods showed up! And I’m only alive because she’s insanely arrogant. After you went through the window, she knocked me on the head with something. I don’t know what. She probably thought I was unconscious and would burn with the house, but I was only stunned. She was too busy searching for Ianthe’s pearls to pay attention to me anymore. She stormed out once she’d found them.”
My eyes widen. Thank the Gods for Griffin’s hard head!
“I thought she’d gone, but she must have been watching and then came back to finish us off when it turned out we weren’t dead.” He works my tunic off my back, ripping it free from around my wings. “I’m not trusting your life to anyone. No army. No team. No God. We can’t count on anyone. Not anymore.”
Oh no. “Is this about Piers?”
“This is about you!” he snarls.
“No, it’s about you!” I snarl back, twisting to try to look at him. “If I gave up and crawled under a rock every time someone betrayed me, I’d have turned into a grub by now.”
Damn Piers! And damn his shortsighted stupidity. Didn’t he know his brother at all? Betrayal from someone he loves is clearly the one thing with which Griffin cannot cope. That, and the thought of losing me. No wonder those two things collided in an epic explosion when Griffin found out the extent of my omissions during our early time together. I broke his trust by not telling him the truth, and loyalty is the air he breathes.