Christmas Griffin - Zoe Chant Page 0,64

I’m not saying that Dominic wasn’t—”

“FUCK YOU!”

Vance launched himself down the table. He flattened one of his cousins face-first into his breakfast, and sent glasses and water jugs flying.

“How dare you!” he yelled. “You’ve always treated our Mum like you were ashamed of her, and now you say Dad should have let her die? You talk so much shit about family and it’s all lies!”

“You don’t care about family at all!” Anders had grabbed Vance, but he seemed more interested in making sure he had his own say than stopping his twin from fighting his way down the table. The others on that side of the table were standing up, now, trying to hold the teenagers back. “Everyone hates you but they’re too scared to say it! No wonder Delphy doesn’t want to tell you she’s not a shifter!”

Silence fell. Delphine staggered, as though the silence had hit her physically. Vance turned around and pulled Anders into a headlock with his arm over his mouth. Too late.

Then the whispers started.

“Pretend to be a shifter?”

“What’s he saying?”

“But Delphy is a... isn’t she?”

“She never had a First Flight.”

“Her father had just died!”

Mr. Belgrave drew himself up. “Yes. Your father had just died, Delphine. Our only son. Perfect timing for you, was it? Giving up your First Flight, hiding yourself in your studies...”

“It wasn’t like that!” Delphine protested. Which was the truth.

“You lied to us all.” Her grandmother’s voice quavered artistically. Hardwick got the feeling she wasn’t surprised at all. There was something in her eyes that was more triumphant than shocked.

Delphine was shaking. Her eyes twitched from side to side, hunting for a way out. When she found it, she let out a ragged sob. “Fine. I lied.” The words sounded like they were being torn out of her. “It’s—it’s exactly what Hardwick said. I lied because I knew you’d never accept me if I wasn’t a shifter. I lied to—to protect myself.”

Lies. Hardwick jerked. His griffin leaned forward, tearing at the sentences with its beak.

I lied.

True.

I lied because I knew you’d never accept me if I wasn’t a shifter.

True.

I lied to protect myself.

Lie.

Hardwick felt as though a rug had been pulled from under him. All this time he’d assumed she was lying to secure her own place in the family. But if she wasn’t lying to protect herself, who was she trying to protect?

His mind echoed with the pressure of a dozen frenzied psychic conversations going on at once. Even adults lost their fine control of telepathic speaking when they were upset. But two voices cut through the others, directly to Hardwick’s mind.

*Tell her I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m so sorry—*

*He didn’t mean it, please tell her that, neither of us were going to say anything we promise—*

Delphine’s brothers sounded close to tears. But he didn’t have time for them. Delphine had staggered to her feet, her face bone-white.

“Let’s just go,” she muttered, her voice broken. She rubbed her hands through her hair, her fingers digging at her scalp. “Everyone’s—I can’t—please, I have to leave.”

“Don’t be so hasty, Delphine.” Her grandmother’s voice was sickly-sweet. “You were only a child.”

“Oh, God.” Delphine closed her eyes. She clenched her fists and turned slowly back to her grandparents. Hardwick watched her pull herself together vertebra by vertebra, gathering her fragmented dignity to herself. “I was old enough to know what I was doing, Grandmother. And it’s not like I ever stopped. I lied! Blame me!”

“But isn’t there someone else we should be blaming, Delphy?”

“No one,” she gritted out.

“It’s not your fault you’re not a shifter, after all.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Delphine

No. This couldn’t be happening.

Delphine tried her best to erase the last thirty seconds from her memory. As though ignoring it would mean it hadn’t happened. As though she could stop her skull from rattling as half her family tried to shout at her telepathically and wipe away the looks of horror and disgust on every face she turned to.

“How long have you known?” Her grandfather’s voice cracked like a whip.

Delphine’s throat worked. What was the best thing to do? Keeping the peace wouldn’t work anymore. There was no peace to keep.

And she couldn’t lie. She didn’t let herself glance at Hardwick, but she felt his presence beside her and in her heart. The memory of his face going grey under the onslaught of Belgrave boasting was fresh in her mind.

No peace. No lying.

Just one chance, if she was lucky, to stop the real truth from escaping after all this time.

She stuck her chin out. Be fierce.