Page 9 of Thankful for You
Chapter Six
Griff
The scent of cinnamon and fresh pastries hit me as I stepped into the bakery. A warmth sank into my bones that I hadn’t felt in ages. Iyonna was busy behind the counter, deftly boxing up a batch of pumpkin scones. There was a confidence in her movements, a steadiness that contrasted sharply with the chaotic magic we’d tried to rein in yesterday. Her magic was all around me, a hum in the air, warm and inviting. It was something I’d missed more than I’d ever admit, even to myself.
“Griff.” She looked up as I approached, surprise flickering in her eyes before she smiled. That smile hit me like a punch to the gut—unexpected, leaving me breathless. “You’re back early.”
I nodded, awkwardly clearing my throat. “Wanted to check in. See how things were going… see if you needed any more help.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly, like she was weighing something in her mind. After a beat, she called out to her sister, Delilah, who was arranging pastries on a display tray. “Delilah, can you take over for a bit?”
Delilah, who’d been watching us with a suspiciously amused expression, gave a quick nod. “Of course.”
Iyonna untied her apron, tossed it on a hook, and motioned for me to follow her toward a small table by the window. The late-morning sunlight spilled in, casting golden beams across the floor and illuminating the rich wood and walls that were painted in a cheerful yellow. I tried to focus on anything other than her steady gaze.
“So, what’s going on?” Her voice was gentle, but I could see the flicker of curiosity—and something else, something darker—in her gaze.
I took a deep breath. I’d avoided this moment for years. Avoided it so well I’d convinced myself I’d never have to face it. But sitting here, looking at Iyonna, I knew I couldn’t keep this hidden anymore. She deserved to know.
“Back when we were kids… my pack wasn’t like the others around here,” I started, my voice barely louder than a whisper. “They were… different.”
She leaned forward, her brow furrowed. “Different how?”
“Darker.” I struggled to find the right words, struggling against memories I’d tried hard to bury. “They were obsessed with the ley lines that run through Charcoal City. The energy here is special, and they wanted control over it. Control over everyone. The pack’s alpha—my father—he thought that by channeling the ley lines, we could… change things. Make us stronger.”
Iyonna’s face shifted, surprise turning into something closer to horror. She didn’t interrupt, didn’t flinch. She was just there, listening, absorbing the weight of my words.
“When we were kids, he taught us all how to sense the lines, how to pull power from them. And it worked—at first. We felt stronger, more powerful than any shifters should’ve been. But the magic… it wasn’t meant to be taken like that. It was too much, too dark. They started twisting it, using it for whatever they wanted.”
I paused, clenching my fists under the table. The memories of what we’d done, the lengths my father had gone to, rose up like bile in my throat. I pushed them back, but it took all my strength to keep going.
“I realized it was wrong,” I managed, my voice rough. “The magic was corrupting them, eating them from the inside out. They started doing things… hurting people, hurting other shifters. And anyone who disagreed with my father either ended up gone or too afraid to speak up. I… I tried to fight him, tried to convince others to leave, but my father was ruthless. He saw any defiance as betrayal.”
Iyonna’s face was pale, her eyes wide. “So, you left.”
I nodded, the shame heavy in my chest. “I had to. Staying meant becoming like him. And I couldn’t do that. But leaving… it wasn’t exactly clean. My father took it as a personal insult, and he’s been hunting me ever since. And now… he’s back. His pack—they’re here. And they’re using the ley lines again.”
The silence between us was thick. Iyonna looked down at her hands, her fingers tapping nervously on the edge of the table. Finally, she looked up, anger flashing in her eyes.
“So, all this time, you knew that your pack was corrupting the ley lines?” Her voice was sharp, cutting right to the point. “You knew they were capable of this, and you didn’t think to warn me? To warn anyone?”
The accusation stung, but I didn’t flinch. I’d spent years running, avoiding the fallout of my decisions. I had no right to be hurt by her words.
“I thought if I stayed away, they wouldn’t follow me here,” I said quietly. “That they’d move on, find another place to leech off. I thought… I thought I was protecting Charcoal City by leaving.”
“Protecting Charcoal City?” she scoffed, her eyes blazing. “They’re back, Griff. Your father’s pack. They’re corrupting the ley lines right under our noses, and my magic—my life—is being torn apart because of it. Do you have any idea what it’s been like, trying to keep things together when every spell I cast goes wrong? When I don’t even feel like I’m in control of my own power?”
My hands clenched on the table as the weight of her anger pressed down on me. She had every right to be furious. And the worst part was, I couldn’t blame her. I’d run, left her and the town defenseless, thinking I could somehow outrun my past. But that was the thing about the ley lines—they bound you to a place, even if you didn’t want them to.
“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice raw. “I thought I was doing the right thing. But… I was wrong. And now… now they’re here, and it’s worse than I could’ve imagined.”
For a moment, I thought she’d tell me to leave, to get out of her bakery and out of her life. But instead, she took a deep breath, her hands shaking as she ran them through her hair.
“This is bigger than either of us, isn’t it?” she said softly. “Your pack, the ley lines, the hunters. They’re all connected.”
I nodded. “The hunters… they’re after me because of what my pack did. They want to wipe us out, and honestly, I don’t blame them. But they don’t care about the town, about the damage they’ll cause if they try to tear the ley lines apart.”
She looked at me, her gaze steady but full of pain. “So what do we do?”