“He deserves it!”
“It doesn't matter. You can't go around killing people who annoy you.”
“Watch me,” she hisses.
Griffin shakes his head, unafraid in the least, and begins walking toward the canvas opening.
“I'm warning you, Griffin. Put. Me. Down.”
Lowering his lips to her ear, he enunciates slowly. “No.”
Stupid, stupid male.
Amara stiffens for a long moment, her toes pointed and arms locked, before she suddenly explodes into a flurry of movement. Arms flailing and legs kicking, she spits and hisses like a feral animal as she tries to dislodge his grip, but Griffin’s arms remain strong as he watches her with a placid expression.
“Alright,” Griffin says, tossing the wiggling creature over his shoulder and moving towards the canvas opening. “Let's find somewhere for you to cool down. Some place far away from here.”
Unused to being so easily thwarted, Amara’s movements become more frantic and desperate, and she actually manages to get a knee to his chin. Swiping at the blood that trickles out of the corner of his mouth, Griffin tightens his arm around her thighs and bounces her farther over his shoulder to hang over his back. “Stop that,” he chastises. Then, to everyone's surprise, he raises his left palm and spanks her ass.
A shocked Amara squeaks, a very feminine sound that I’ll no doubt tease her about later, before she roars a very unfeminine battle cry, digs her claws into his leather-clad ass, and bites down with all her might.
Griffin yowls and leaps into the air, dropping Amara headfirst onto the ground. Unconcerned for the moaning Amara laid out on the cobbled street, Griffin rubs his cheeks with a grimace. “Let’s try this again,” he grumbles, lifting and then draping a dazed Amara back over his shoulder. “If you're good this time, maybe I'll take you to Aurora’s shop and we can test out some of her new pieces.”
Amara suddenly swings upright, peering down at him with wide eyes. “Really?”
He smiles softly up at her. “Really.”
Cheeks spreading into a beaming smile, she drops down and shimmies down his chest until she can wrap her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, clutching him chest to chest. “Why didn't you say so!”
Griffin freezes. Mouth agape and his arms hovering near her back, he doesn't seem to know what to do with this change of position. Until he slowly coils one arm around her waist and splays the other palm on the spine of her back, walking out into the pedestrian traffic of the market.
“Annnnd that's why we try not to make her angry,” Zander says, to which everyone nods in understanding.
Leaning to the side, Kace watches their retreat. “She’s a rather frightening human. Thank the gods she wasn't born a fae or immortal. I doubt the world would survive her wrath if she had any powers.”
Biting my lip to stifle a laugh, I ask Aurora, “Where to next?”
“The dress shop!” she squeals, her orange topaz and starlight jewels flickering with her excitement.
Amara isn't the only one with an aversion to dresses, but since Aurora seems so excited, I attempt to control my grimace and instead offer an answering smile. “Sounds like fun.”
My feelings must be obvious despite my best efforts, because Aurora chuckles at my expression before her gaze bounces between me and Darius, her lip curling into a sly smirk. “Or we can go to the dress shop while Darius takes you to the Gods Garden.”
“The Gods Garden sounds wonderful!” Zander says. “Let’s all – umph.” A loud thwack pierces the air as Kace cuts off Zander’s words with a slap to his cheek.
“Shush,” Kace says, waving a chastising finger.
At Aurora’s suggestion, a surge of excitement spears down the bond, rushing into me to blend with my own elation. Darius and I could be alone. Not truly alone, of course. I’m sure there will be people nearby, but it won't be any of our friends or family, and we haven’t really had that. Not under the right circumstances, at least. I’m not sure if that's intentional on my part or his, possibly even both. We’ve both known we want something from the other, but neither of us has decided what that something is. Maybe this time alone can help in determining it for the both of us.
Ignoring the others, Darius watches me, saying nothing as he waits for me to respond. Not pushing or retreating, he’s allowing me to decide without his input. His willingness to give up his control, to allow me to decide his fate, and his calm acceptance regardless of the choice I make is what finally sways my decision.
“I'd like that.”
Chapter 22Darius
No one can deny that Seboia is a marvel of a city. From our magicked water fountains to the crystal palace, even the jeweled street is meant to impress you with its opulent grandeur. But there are many, me included, who believe this beauty is excessive, pretentious even, and merely another calculated act for the Cascadonian royals to lord their superiority over the other kingdoms. But whereas Seboia itself could be considered to have vapid, brittle allure, the Gods Garden could never be misinterpreted as such.
Encircled within towering hedges, the Gods Garden is filled with thousands of flowers. Purple irises, yellow lilies, white hydrangeas, orange marigolds, pink hollyhocks. Their spicy and sweet floral scents perfume the air, mingling with that of freshly churned dirt. Honeysuckle climbs up the walls of secluded stone grottos. Delphinium and foxglove form pocketed plots with hand carved benches hidden within. Pale pink sweet peas and bushels of red roses line the cobblestone walkways, leading up to the dozen or so crystal statues of the gods.
No, the Gods Garden’s beauty could never be misconstrued as a hollow one. You can feel the love and care put forth from those who created this sanctuary. See their devotion to the gods in the way each flower was carefully chosen and placed. It is elegant and magical, enchanting to the senses, not to mention the most romantic spot in the city.
“Your sister isn't subtle, is she?” Lena asks with a chuckle, her shrewd gaze sweeping across the garden.
As subtle as a battering ram.
“Aurora has many redeeming qualities,” I sigh, glancing towards my feet at the crushed starlight jewels embedded in the stone pathway. “But subtlety isn't one of them.”
“Neither does that couple over there,” she says, pointing toward a male towing a giggling female into the darkness of the grotto.
A smirk twitches at my lips as I recall the many, many times I enjoyed a quick romp within that very same grotto. “The Gods Garden is a favorite amongst new lovers.”
“I can see that.” She tosses me a playful look. “Maybe we'll just avoid that area for the time being. Oh!” She startles, her words trailing off as we watch the couple pop back into view. “Or not.” She winces. “I think he's already finished.”
Shaking my head in sympathy, I recall a similar humiliating moment in my youth. One I wouldn't mind suppressing until the end of my time. “Poor male. He must be so ashamed.”
“I don’t know.” Lena cocks her head to the side, squinting at the very pleased looking fae. “He doesn't look too upset about it. The female, on the other hand…” She presses her fingers to her mouth, pinching her lips together on a laugh as we watch the irritated female smooth her rumpled dress and stalk off into the distance. “I doubt they'll be lovers much longer.”
Lena and I share another smile before she turns away, continuing on the walkway as I follow behind, watching her. Watching the way her wavy locks flitter in the breeze. Watching the way her cheeks stretch into a smile. The way she crouches before a patch of star jasmine, cradling the flower within her palm as she breathes in its rich, sweet scent. Completely entranced with the way she moves. The swing of her arms, the sway of her hips, the proud lilt to her chin as she ignores each female's sneer and each male's leer. Each motion is languid and graceful, confident and sure, but with the same lethal grace of a predator on the prowl.
