Christmas Griffin - Zoe Chant Page 0,5

put them on the car before now, but she hadn’t been expecting the fresh snow, and the last time she’d been in Pine Valley the locals had grumbled about visitors using chains around town and messing up the roads. And—

And in short, she thought, sighing, she could come up with any number of excuses for why she’d gotten herself into this situation, none of which were going to help her get out of it.

But she had a plan.

“Everything’s going to be fine,” she reassured herself. Saying it out loud made it feel more real. She straightened her shoulders. Normally, she wouldn’t add this, but right now…

“It will be fine.” Her voice was almost a growl, which surprised her. Determination stiffened her spine. “Because I’m a Belgrave, damn it. A real Belgrave. No piddly snowstorm is going to stop me.”

Whether she believed the words or not, they helped. She leaned over the edge to open the driver’s side door, and carefully placed her foot in the same safe hole-in-the-snow she’d used to clamber her way out.

And missed.

Her foot hit not a convenient rock, but a hole—one that got deeper the more of her leg was in it. She struggled to get her weight back onto the leg that was still on the road, but it was too late.

She swung around, pivoting on the door handle and the complete absence of solid ground under her foot. The door shut, and she slammed against the side of the car; one foot dropping into nothing, one dragging behind her on the road, and her grip on the car door handle slipping.

Her heart thudded uselessly in her throat.

She couldn’t go down like this. God, how embarrassing. She just had to—to—

Not let go of the door handle.

As soon as the thought crossed her mind, her fingers slipped.

She toppled backwards. Something hit the back of her head, and everything went black.

The world fuzzed back into existence around her. Or maybe she was the fuzzy one.

Please, a part of herself that she thought she had gotten rid of long ago whispered. Maybe this is it—maybe it’s late, but I am a shifter after all.

It did happen. It had happened last Christmas, right here, in Pine Valley. A man who had thought he was a normal human for the first twenty-something years of his life had suddenly discovered he was a shifter. Delphine was a twenty-something. And if there was ever a time for her inner lioness to show up, this was it.

She moved her limbs tentatively and all hope went out the window. Human arms, human legs. No wings. Worse, they were moving sluggishly. She half-felt as though they weren’t her arms and legs at all.

“Damn it,” she croaked out. “I can’t die here. No real Belgrave would—would let a little thing like—”

Everything went black again.

The next thing she remembered was probably a dream. It could have been hours later, or seconds. She tried to move her arm. Something thudded against her side. It was dark: the same close, all-enveloping darkness that she’d breathed in so longingly before.

It didn’t seem as welcoming now. Or perhaps it was too welcoming.

Her lips shaped the words she’d been trying to say before. “A real Belgrave wouldn’t let this stop them,” she whispered, not sure if she was speaking out loud or just imagining it. “And I’m a real Belgrave. I…”

Was that a sound? A voice? Delphine strained against the smothering blackness, the cold and heavy weight of the night. Something appeared above her. A face. Dark eyes, staring at her with an expression that—that—

She groaned as shadows crept in at the edges of her eyes and everything went black.

Again.

Chapter Four

Hardwick

The world stopped spinning.

Hardwick moved by instinct. Long hours of training pushed him through motions his brain wasn’t capable of processing. Check for injuries. Check for breathing.

Curse himself for not moving faster, for not thinking ahead and bringing a blanket, something warm, something to stop her body’s warmth from seeping out like water through a colander. Curse himself for hesitating when he first sensed her presence. For those few resentful seconds he’d spent wondering what the hell anyone else was doing out here, where he was meant to be alone. For the minutes he’d spent getting dressed again once he landed down here in human form, as though his goddamn modesty was the important thing here.

Pick her up. Check airways again. Watch her eyelids flutter. Watch her not wake up.

Wonder how long she’d been out here.

Hardwick pulled his heavy jacket off and