His response is curt. “I trust her.”
“You’re blinded by… I don’t know what. Lust? I don’t understand.”
He blows out a frustrated breath. “I’m not blinded by anything, Daphne.”
Her. My stubbornness helps me focus enough to see them better. Daphne is much too close to Griffin, her blonde hair swaying down her back, her shapely height unmistakably a good match for his solid strength.
I want to kick her in the head. Unmistakably.
“We’re good together. It’s been too long.” She reaches out and casually touches his arm in a way I wish I’d been doing for weeks. “I know just what you like.”
Griffin immediately steps back, but my chest still feels like a Centaur kicked it. I’d love to breathe fire at her—just to scare her, not melt her or anything—but I know nothing would come out. I either lost my Dragon’s Breath along with my life force, or I’m just too weak.
“She attacked me for no reason in the bathhouse,” Daphne pursues, her lie igniting a fire in me that’s even worse in my weakened state. “I’ve watched her. She’s violent and unstable. With the amount of power she obviously has, she’s a danger to everyone.”
“Cat’s…lively,” Griffin says, his eyes narrowing.
Daphne snorts before scoffing, “She’s insane.” She closes the space he put between them. “A few months ago, I was fighting for the realm with you, battling with you during the day, staying with you at night. Every night.”
Gods, it’s hard to breathe. Son of a Cyclops! We’re in the bloody outdoors, and there’s no air!
Irritation sharpens Griffin’s tone. “You were battling for the realm because that’s your job. As for the rest, ambition is clouding your memory. I wasn’t your first lover, and I won’t be your last. No promises were spoken.”
Daphne leans into him, undeterred—and apparently delusional.
Griffin grips her shoulders, stopping her. She turns partway. Even in profile, Daphne’s come-hither look is a work of art, something I couldn’t master in a thousand years.
He sets her away from him. “It’s over, Daphne. Go back to your fire.” He lets her go with a soft shove, stepping back to drive his point home. “If you bother Cat again, you won’t be a part of this army anymore. Ever.” Infinitely calm. Infinitely threatening. Griffin.
Daphne’s hands curl into fists. When she speaks, her voice is so low I have to strain to hear her. “Why are you doing this? What does that dark little Fisan have that I don’t?”
Griffin looks at me. He sees me watching them and doesn’t look away. “My heart.”
At his words, my chest contracts with a sharp spasm, squeezing the air from my lungs.
I guess Daphne can’t argue with that. She leaves without another word, never once glancing at me. I wish she’d stormed away. Exploding and stomping off I can deal with. Cold, controlled rage reminds me too much of Mother.
Griffin doesn’t spare her a second glance. Our eyes stay locked, and he looks so…happy to see me awake that I start to melt inside. Or maybe it’s just that he’s so handsome—tall, hard, and broad, with humor and warmth and stability in his eyes. I’ve never known anyone like him.
He approaches swiftly, his focus entirely on me. I shiver, anticipation making my pulse quicken.
He ducks into the tent and then crouches next to me, resting his elbows on his knees. His easy smile makes my heart skip a beat. “You’re awake.”
“You jilted Daphne for me?”
His smile fades. Griffin sits on the edge of the blanket I’m on, laying my head in his lap and stroking his long fingers over my scalp. The massage feels foreign, and nice, and I tingle from head to toe when he unravels my braid and spreads long strands of hair across his thighs, carefully arranging them. “She misunderstood, or wanted to see what wasn’t there. I’ve never given a woman any indication of permanence. The day I saw you, I understood why.”
Emotion roughens my voice, turning it husky and low. “Why?”
A smile pulls at the edges of his mouth. “Because you were made for me.”
A thrill shoots through me. “Don’t tell me you plan on keeping me?” I somehow manage to tease.
Goose bumps rise on my neck when Griffin winds a curl around his finger and gently tugs. His white teeth flash in the dim light. “I informed you I was keeping you shortly after we met.”
“You didn’t give me any choice. Stupid, bloody rope,” I mutter.