Christmas Griffin - Zoe Chant Page 0,7

around the pain while she looked for the person who had spoken.

When she saw him, she went completely still.

Delphine believed in magic. Of course she did. She came from a family where people could transform into giant mythical beasts, for heaven’s sake. Where people could speak telepathically and bounce back from minor injuries like they were nothing.

Where every person had a soulmate they recognized on sight.

The ache in her head suddenly felt a long way away. Delphine had the strange sensation of being detached from her own body. That wasn’t unusual in itself—how many times had she felt like she was standing outside of herself and looking in, making sure she wasn’t letting anything slip?

What was unusual was the sensation of standing outside of herself and looking at someone else. Because once she saw the man who’d spoken to her, she couldn’t look away. Not even to make sure she was behaving correctly.

He was the most captivating person she’d ever seen. He looked—

Her eyes took him in greedily. He had dark hair and a hawklike nose beneath heavy, forbidding eyebrows and deep-set eyes; he was too far away and the light in the room wasn’t strong enough for her to tell what color they were. He was cleanshaven, with a strong jawline and…

…and…

She couldn’t look any further. Her eyes kept darting back to his. She felt as though she was searching for something. Like if she could just look at him for long enough, she would… she would…

She thudded back into her body with a gasp.

All at once, she was acutely aware of her breathing, her heartbeat, the sudden heat on her skin.

Oh, God.

She wished she didn’t have a name for what she was feeling. Or that it had a different name. Shock. Post-almost-dying syndrome.

No.

Love.

It had to be. Because what was happening… was exactly what she’d always been told would happen.

Eyes locking across a room. Breath catching in her throat. Everything else in the world fading away until it was just him, and her. A sudden, joyful desire—and with it, certainty so clear it might have been carved into her heart.

She’d just found her soulmate.

So why did falling in love feel so much like utter horror and dread?

Delphine’s lips were dry. She licked them, hunting through her own feelings. Where was the happiness? Where was the heart-deep joy, the contentment in knowing the rest of her life was sitting there in front of her?

Her brain was moving too slowly. She couldn’t understand herself. Then she focused outward, on him—on her mate—and found the answer.

He didn’t look as though he’d just stumbled upon the love of his life. His expression was neutral—no, it was deliberately neutral. Which meant it was actually wary, or watchful.

She knew that particular expression far too well to mistake it. It had taken most of her teenaged years to train herself out of it. Any Belgrave worth their salt could tell when an expression said too little.

Delphine’s breath caught in her throat. She wasn’t sure whether it was hope or fear that stuck it there. She wasn’t sure of anything and she couldn’t remember the last time her own responses had been so unfamiliar to her. She didn’t know how to react. He wasn’t giving her anything to bounce off of, and that meant all she was left with was her own confusion.

The man’s eyes wrenched away from hers. It felt like someone had pulled her heart out through her chest.

“You’re awake,” he said. His voice was rough and went straight to a soft, vulnerable place inside her.

“Yes,” she agreed. That was something she could be sure of, at least. Solid ground. Solid-ish, at least. “Where… am I?”

“At a cabin I’m renting for Christmas,” he said. “Looked like you crashed your car. We’re a fair ways from the nearest town.”

He gestured towards a cell phone sitting on the kitchen counter. “I’ve been trying to reach someone in Pine Valley, but the call keeps cutting out. Weather’s playing havoc with the connection.”

That’s a relief. Delphine let her eyes sink shut. Weather too bad to make a phone call meant weather too bad to fly in, surely. And if her poor map-reading was in any way accurate, then she was too far out of town for anyone to expect to be able to reach her telepathically.

“Why the look of relief?”

Delphine’s eyes snapped open. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, smoothing the blankets. “I’m not relieved.”

He grimaced. “You don’t need to lie,” he said. “So, you’re not broken-hearted about missing Christmas.