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A Promise of Fire (Kingmaker Chronicles, #1)(106)

Author:Amanda Bouchet

“Can you hear me?” he asks.

I manage to push a sound from my throat.

“Did you even try?”

I don’t respond, and he quietly curses. “I didn’t think so. You don’t always have to have the last word, you know.”

I wish I could laugh. I haven’t won a single fight with Griffin. Right now, I can’t even talk, but he thinks I’m always getting the last word?

He shifts, sitting me upright and propping me against him. My head flops to the side, and he pushes it back, bracing it under his chin. “I have an idea. I don’t want to hurt you, but I don’t know what else to do.” He picks up my hand, rubbing my palm with his callused thumb. “What is life force? Mind? Body? Spirit? All of it combined? Is it in our blood? I can give you my blood. I’m going to cut myself.”

That’s never a good idea.

“Your turn.”

Wait! What?

A blade stings the palm of my hand. Blood seeps out, along with my perpetual fear of discovery. He pulls me onto his lap. My panicked breathing gradually calms as Griffin holds me against him, our fingers laced together. It tingles where our blood mixes, frighteningly intimate.

I listen to his steady heartbeat under my ear and fight exhaustion, terrified that the next time I fall asleep, I won’t wake up.

CHAPTER 26

Instinctively, I curl into the large, solid body next to mine, sighing when I detect Griffin’s familiar scent.

“Cat?”

I wiggle closer, sliding my cheek along his bare chest.

“It’s working!” He sits up, and I grumble a protest. “Easy, kardia mou. I’m just cutting deeper.”

My breath hitches. His sweetheart? Most people have forgotten the ancient language of the Gods. The tribes must have retained some endearments. No one’s ever called me anything special before, except Thanos, and I’m not sure “little monster” counts.

Griffin must cut himself first. I force my eyes open just as he’s coming at me with the knife. Everything’s blurry, but my heart still flips over at the sight of him—midnight hair, sculpted features, wide, sensual mouth, magnetic gray eyes. I could stare at him for hours.

His blade draws a line of fire across my hand. “She’ll find me,” I croak. I have no idea how long my blood’s been exposed.

“Alpha Fisa?”

I nod. Almost. You’d think I’d be used to pain by now. I still grit my teeth when he presses our hands together.

Frowning, Griffin settles me on his lap again, like he did earlier. Blood stains the front of my tunic. The shirt is Griffin’s, and it reaches my knees. He’s bare from the waist up, his skin hot and hard like sun-warmed marble. He moves his free hand up and down my spine in a slow, soothing stroke that makes me want to rub against him and purr. His hand is rough from a lifetime with a sword, powerful, and spanning half of my back. It makes me think about the times we brawled, about the restraint he must have shown to keep from snapping me in two, especially when I deserved it.

His mouth brushes the top of my head, sending warm tingles across my scalp. “We’ll leave here soon. I promise.”

“Is that a binding vow?” I’m only half joking. We have to go.

Griffin tilts my chin up until our eyes meet. “I love you, Cat. I would do anything to keep you safe. That is my binding vow.”

My heart twists so violently it hurts. “Don’t say that.”

His hand returns to its steady glide up and down my back, exploring lower with each stroke. Pleasure ripples over my skin, shivers along my spine. I melt against him, heat pooling in my abdomen and warming me from the inside out.

“Why not?” His tone is casual, but his body feels tense under mine.

I swallow, wishing I could sound as calm and sure as Griffin always does. “It makes you a target.”

His hand stills on my back, then he rolls us so that he’s on top. My eyes widen, and my heart beats faster, pumping our mixed blood to my waking limbs.

“I don’t care,” he says flatly. His storm-cloud eyes drink in my face like he’s memorizing every detail. “You’re everything to me.”

The truth of his words resonates through me like a thunderclap, and I gasp. Griffin swallows the sound with his mouth, his lips an intoxicating mix of hard strength and subtle pressure. They move over mine, seductively insistent, coaxing me to open for him. His tongue slides along the seam of my lips, and desire awakens with a hot pulse that hollows me out and makes me desperate with want.

I unlace our fingers, throw my arms around his neck, and kiss him back, pouring all the jumbled-up, foolish, crazy, confusing emotions he brings out in me into the kiss. An Olympian-powered jolt arcs through me, rousing the wings in my chest. They unfurl inside of me, and I arch off the bed, propelled into Griffin’s body.