Christmas Griffin - Zoe Chant Page 0,48

Christmas.

The others all shifted, too, and clambered through the snow to get closer now that there weren’t three massive dragons in the way. Pebbles was a few years older than her, and even more blinged out than usual—Delphine suspected Pascal’s influence, and of course being able to shift with jewelry as well as clothes would help unruffle any grandparents’ feathers about her mate. Colored stones glittered on her fingers and in rows up her ears.

Pebbles’ parents, Uncle Martin and Aunt Grizelda, were the same as ever: muscular and distant. Brutus, who if Delphine remembered correctly, had just turned twenty-one, was sporting a new undercut, and Livia, fourteen, looked as though she was trying not to look puffed from the recent flight. She had only had her First Flight the year before and was probably still getting used to her wings.

“Hello, you lot,” she said cheerfully, waving them over. “How are you all liking Pine Valley so far?”

“That’s it?” Anders said, feigning outrage. “That’s all you’ve got to say for yourself after going missing? We’ve been out night and day—”

“Wearing ourselves to the bone with worry,” Vance interjected.

“—not eating, not sleeping, worried sick—”

“Give it a rest.” Delphine waited for Anders to get close enough, then aimed a half-hearted smack at the side of his head. He ducked out of the way, his outrage reaching pantomime levels. Vance, cunningly, was staying just out of reach. “You didn’t really come look for me, did you?”

The twins glanced at one another, so quickly she almost missed it. “Course not,” Anders said. Hardwick cleared his throat. “We joined the search for the dragonling when Mr. Heartwell said he’d gone missing.”

“Mum’s not with you?”

“Nah. She’s doing a you, holing up with the olds so the rest of us can relax a bit. Speaking of...”

Both twins’ eyes flicked to Hardwick and back to her.

“Not that we’re prying—”

“We’re not even asking, we’re that good—”

“But if we were—”

“On the off-chance...”

Anders dropped to his knees. “Please tell us you managed to find some of Grandad’s bloody plonk.”

“Right. That’s the question you wanted to ask.” Delphine crossed her arms.

“It’s been three days, Delphy! It’s life or death.” Anders collapsed entirely and rolled onto his back. “And death is more attractive by the minute. I can’t believe the Grandad we’ve known all these years was happy drunk Grandad.”

That was a scary thought.

“And Grandma’s even been asking about you,” Vance added.

That was even scarier.

“I’ve been busy,” Delphine said. “Don’t worry, I didn’t forget about the shopping.” She hooked one finger around the duffel bag at Hardwick’s feet and lifted it so the bottles clinked. Anders gave a dramatic sigh of relief.

“Delphine!” Aunt Grizelda called out to her. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

Vance grumbled, almost but not quite under his breath, “Oh, ruin it why don’t you. I was trying to find a way to make ‘I’ve been busy’ dirty.”

“You’re stuck on that?” Anders exclaimed. “Are you even my brother? Come on. It’s a classic. She didn’t come back ’cos she was getting biz—”

“Aunt Grizelda, Uncle Martin.” Delphine strenuously ignored her brothers. “I’d like to introduce you to Hardwick Jameson.” The way she was squeezing his hand should have given the game away, but she said it anyway: “I should probably tell Mother or Grandfather and Grandmother first, but... Hardwick is my mate.”

Aunt Grizelda gave a smile that almost made it to the corners of her lips. “Hardwick, was it? And you are…?”

Hardwick held her gaze and her smile didn’t move an inch.

“How nice,” she said.

Hardwick’s eyelid flickered.

Ouch, Delphine thought in sympathy. This is not going to go well.

She grabbed the duffel bag of clothes and bottles in a way that clearly indicated it would need human hands looking after it in transit, and the motley group of shifters prepared to leave. Delphine was about to get on Hardwick’s back again when her pocket buzzed. She fumbled out her phone and stared at it, amazed.

If she’d had to guess who might be calling her, her boss would be top of the list. His retreat had been due to finish that day, and he probably had a thousand problems for her to solve on his way to the airport.

But it wasn’t him. It was her mother.

Delphine felt strange as she scrolled through message after message from her mum. None of them were outright panicking, but just the fact that there were so many told her how worried she’d been.

Her mother. Worried about her.

Even though she was a Belgrave. Even though their family creed meant