Christmas Griffin - Zoe Chant Page 0,34

her mask slipped.

Delphine clenched her fists. He got the feeling she would have looked away from him if she could, but her eyes were fixed on his.

“You feel it, too?” she asked, her voice cracking. Before he could reply, she made a sharp, negating gesture with her hand. “No, don’t—don’t answer that. I have to do this. I want to.”

She took a hesitant step forward. “I wasn’t going to say anything. I never do. Not unless I’m absolutely sure.” The corner of her mouth twitched. “So I’d better be sure.”

She darted forward and slipped her hands around his neck. Before Hardwick could react, her lips were pressed against his.

And the spark that had flickered to life inside him when he first saw her burst into flame.

Chapter Seventeen

Delphine

Oh, God.

This was real.

Delphine had never experienced magic. The itch of knowing someone was trying to speak to her telepathically didn’t count. It was just a reminder of what she couldn’t do.

She’d seen magic—seen her brothers and parents transform into mythical animals, seen them communicate without speaking, seen them fly golden and shining in front of burning sunsets. But she’d never had any of her own.

Was this magic?

Doubt curled through her, even as Hardwick pulled her closer and kissed her back. The light that flickered inside her burst into glorious flame. But that had to be a hallucination. Her mind was playing tricks on her. How could she see light flaring in her chest when her eyes were closed? It was—

It was—

Real.

All the tension she’d been holding in her back and shoulders released. She melted against Hardwick, pressing the soft curved of her body into the hard lines of his. He softened, too, wrapping himself around her and kissing her until she gasped for breath.

He lifted his head.

Her eyes fluttered open.

Hardwick’s face was only inches from hers. She breathed in and inhaled his unique scent of whatever I said it was earlier. Earthy and magical at the same time. Perfect. Him.

His eyes stared directly into hers. She was no stranger to this by now. They’d spent long enough glaring at each other. But she’d never seen him with this look in his eyes: soft and gentle, and strangely vulnerable.

He started to pull away; she held him tight.

All the words she’d stopped herself from saying the day before, the words that had whirled around her head as she lay in bed trying to sleep and trying not to think of Hardwick sleeping or not sleeping in the next room, came out in a rush.

“I wasn’t going to say anything. I was going to leave...”

“I know.” Regret tightened Hardwick’s mouth. “I was, too.”

“I was afraid—”

“Yes,” he sighed, and his sigh took her heart with it. This was it. She was afraid, and she was a liar, and she wasn’t good enough. Not good enough to be a proper Belgrave, and not good enough to be his. “I was afraid, too.”

What?

“What did you have to be afraid of?”

“Myself.” He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers. “The two of us, together. I’m... complicated... and with my griffin’s powers, things are so black and white. You need someone who can handle complexity. Someone who—”

“Don’t say it.”

“Someone easier than me.”

She hissed a curse and dug her fingers into his hair, pulling his head back to look him in the eyes. “We’ll make it work,” she told him. “We’ll find a way. I promise. It doesn’t have to be complicated.”

She tensed, waiting for the wince that would betray her lie.

It never came.

Hardwick must have been waiting, too. His eyes widened. “Delphine—”

Whatever he was about to say, she never heard it. She kissed him again, pressing her whole body against him until he stumbled backwards.

Her skin was electric. Hardwick put one hand around her waist, steadying them both, and the sensation took all the breath from her lungs. His other hand went to her cheek, the line of her jaw, cupped the back of her head as he deepened the kiss. His tongue flicked against her lips and she opened her mouth, desire a sharp pull inside her.

He lifted his head. “Are you sure now?”

Delphine nodded. There were no words for how sure she was. So other words came up, instead.

“How did you know that I don’t do what I want? I don’t even know what I want, half the time.”

“I guessed.” He pressed his forehead against hers. “When you let slip that your family didn’t know you weren’t a shifter. I thought, there was no way you could