Page 5 of My Guardian Gryphon

The blue Texas sky was graying through the glass window to our right. Dusk was approaching. She needed to get back to the Sister’s quarters below to eat and dress before the castle—the club—opened for the weekend. And I needed to leave. I preferred not to be around when visitors filled these stone walls and courtyards. Vetted or not, humans and kink put my beast on edge. It wasn’t my scene. Ever.

I’d been asked to act in the capacity of hall monitor many times, but after refusing repeatedly, they’d finally gotten the message.

I held the book out toward her, but she shoved away from me and crossed her arms over her chest. A pout pulled at her lips, and her ever bright blue eyes shattered my expectation of ending this reading without feeling her unhappiness spill into my soul.

“I don’t have to leave yet. There’s still two hours before I have to be present and accounted for.”

“You make it sound like a prison roll call.” I regretted the words the instant they left my lips. They’d been callous and harsher than she deserved. If I’d felt like she was in a prison, I wouldn’t have been able to handle it, but all the Sisters appeared happy and pleased with their life. The Blackmoors took excellent care of them. They had free reign in the castle. Their only barrier was the outside walls, but even those of us on the outside rarely ventured outside the town. Perhaps our prison wasn’t the size of one castle, but it still existed. The world outside Sanctuary—even in the Texas Republic—wasn’t safe for any supernatural being. Not really. There were still people within the Republic who would sooner shoot us all than live peaceably with us.

Her head twitched to the side, and she jutted out her chin, defiance in both small movements. “It is and I hate it. I hate these joinings, and I hate it more that you don’t even care.” Her voice dropped on the last phrase, and she scrambled from the couch—as if burned by my touch.

Don’t care? “Gretchen, I—”—what could I say? — “I care a great deal about you. Is someone making you feel uncomfortable?” My core temperature rose several degrees, and my beast stretched inside me, angry that something or someone was upsetting Gretchen, pressuring her in some way. “You have only to tell me, and I will make sure they never return to this town again. We may have six designated Protectors of the House of Lamidae, but I am the acting sheriff of Sanctuary.”

She shook her head and pressed her lips into a tight angry line. “It’s nothing.” The two words slipped from between her lips barely louder than a whisper—both lies. “I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

“Yes, we will continue with Antony and Cleopatra.” My jaw tightened. She was upset with me again. Over something I couldn’t change. I would if I could. I wanted her to be happy. I’d do anything to keep a smile on her lovely face. I always returned from missions with a special gift or trinket. The surprise and joy on her face made it more than worthwhile, but I couldn’t make her not a Sister. That was beyond my ability.

Beyond anyone’s ability.

Her frame loosened, and her shoulder’s slumped ever so slightly. Defeat shone in the blue depths of her eyes. She always spoke her mind. Nothing with Gretchen was ever a mystery.

“Is there something you need?” Just give me a task. Tell me what I can fix.

“No. I’m fine.” She turned on her heel and walked out the door before I registered that she’d said the most dangerous words a female could utter.

She was far from fine, but there was absolutely nothing I could do about it if she didn’t tell me what to fix, or what to change. Until she did, I would remain uneasy and my beast would pace until we saw her again tomorrow afternoon. Perhaps by then she would be able to ask for the help she needed with whatever problem was vexing her.

I placed the volume of Shakespeare on a bronze end table near the couch. No one would move it. Anyone using the Blackmoor library was expected to put away what they moved, but they all knew Gretchen and I made sure the books would be returned to their place when we were finished. We’d stuck to the same habits for years, but when Diana had arrived, I’d made sure to clear it with her also. She spent a great deal of time in the library as well, and I didn’t want to annoy her—especially with all the pregnancy hormones racing through her body.

Diana’s pregnancy was quite the topic of conversation in Sanctuary lately. Miles and Eli couldn’t be more excited. With their first son from the Veil—Mikjáll—also taking up residence in Sanctuary, the town would soon be able to boast a population of seven Drakonae. Triplets were on the way.

As wonderful as having children would be… the idea of having children in a time where there were so many people and creatures out to kill us was terrifying—why would someone risk it? Plenty did. The Fated mate Lycans were constantly having children. Even Eira, one of the Protectors of the House of Lamidae--a vampire nonetheless--was pregnant by her Elvin mate. No one in the history of the world had heard of a vampire carrying a child, but no one had been in Eira and Killían’s situation before, either.

“Alek.”

I turned toward the familiar silky voice. “Lady Blackmoor,” I answered, bowing my head in respect. She was not a queen in Sanctuary, but she’d been my queen before the Veil had fallen. My parents’ queen. My grandparents’ queen. Old habits were difficult to break, whether they were thousands of years old or only a few decades. It was hard enough not calling her majesty or her grace. She’d forbidden it. All the Blackmoors had.

Rose was Sentinel in this town—ruler. Her word was law, not the Drakonae.

“The library is empty now, if you were seeking privacy.”

Her face lit with a pleased smile. She rubbed her rounding belly.

Pain slid through my gut like someone had taken a blade and stealthily shoved it between two of my ribs.

I would do anything to protect my queen, but I still couldn’t believe she’d taken such a chance. Become vulnerable. Pregnant. Weak.

Why? There wasn’t a throne to sit on here. There was nothing more than there ever had been. Protect the Sisters of the House of Lamidae. Rose had recruited Jared and me over a millennia ago, and the battle to protect the Sisters from Xerxes and the human world hadn’t stopped since.

“I see your longing and pain and worry. I assure you I’m quite capable of protecting myself while I’m pregnant as I am when I’m not with child.”

Ever the mind-reader. I worked so hard to conceal my emotions. To not show anyone anything. Emotions meant vulnerability, and that was something I couldn’t afford. “Forgive me, Lady Blackmoor.”

She dipped her chin and smiled, assuring me of her favor.

Jared and I were both realists. Having a partner. A family. Such things were fantasy in this world. A lost cause, and neither of us had risked being so foolish. Our goals hadn’t changed since the first day we’d arrived on Earth. Just like so many other supernaturals who’d lived through the millennia—we wanted to go home. I wanted to know if I was all that was left of my family. I wanted vengeance. Jared felt the same.

Love had no place in my life. A family certainly didn’t, either…no matter how much the sight of her swollen belly raised tendrils of jealousy deep inside me.