Christmas Griffin - Zoe Chant Page 0,76
a tension in the movement that made Pebbles raise her head and brush his hair off his face. “The party atmosphere was not so great by then, anyway.”
“And you’ve come here to—”
Pebbles replied. “Apolo—no. Shouldn’t lie.” Her mouth twisted. “You were so brave, leaving like you did. I don’t feel brave. I feel like I’ve been so stupid, and I should have seen so much earlier… including you. We practically grew up together, Delphy, and I never saw…”
“I never wanted you to.”
She drew in a ragged breath. “Grandfather said that you’re the one I should be angry at. Because you hid the truth and if I’d known earlier that you weren’t a winged lion shifter, I would have made better choices. As though Pascal isn’t the best choice I made in my life!”
“We brought our bags. And your luggage, too.” A nervous smile. “I do not particularly wish to go back to that hotel, but if you are finding other accommodations, perhaps we could…”
“Join the party!” Jasper suggested, clapping his hands together. “Er—if that’s all right with our other guests, of course.”
Delphine hesitated. Her indecision fluttered down the mate bond—and then her certainty, bright as the midday sun. “Of course,” she said. “They are family, after all. Real family.”
Pebbles and Pascal weren’t the only Belgraves to slink through the Heartwells’ door. The other younger cousins appeared mid-afternoon, bedraggled and beaten down, and Jasper was merrily run off his feet trying to find places for them all to stay. They all had the same story: that once Delphine left, the Belgrave clan had started to splinter, revealing cracks that ran so deep nothing could keep it together.
Hardwick took Delphine aside during a quiet moment, to check that she was alright.
She looked dazed. “I think I am,” she said softly, watching Brutus and Livia help Ruby build a snow-lion in the yard. “I… I don’t know. I should feel awful, but I don’t. I did what I always feared. Tore my family apart.”
He waited, and after a few moments, she lifted her chin and looked him in the eyes.
“But I don’t feel awful. I feel like if all it took for my grandparents to lose control of the family was me leaving before they could cast me aside, then they deserve to watch it all fall apart.”
The sudden growl in her voice went straight to his heart. He pulled her to him, kissing her until they were both breathless. “Good,” he rumbled against her lips.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
Her lips curved against his. “My Christmas present.”
His heart almost stopped. He hadn’t gotten her anything. No matter than he hadn’t known she existed until a few days ago, and there hadn’t exactly been time to go shopping. “I didn’t—”
“You did.” She nuzzled against him. “Because of you, I get to figure out who I really am, when I’m not trying to be something I’m not. And I get to do that with you. That’s the best Christmas present I could ever imagine.”
They slipped into the shadows. It was almost dinner time; any minute now, someone would come hunting for them. This time, though, he wasn’t sure they would go.
Delphine’s eyes shone in the dying light. “You’re looking happy,” she said.
“So are you.”
She smiled, and the glow in his chest lit up. The light that had kindled first as a weak, flickering thing flared like a bonfire. “I wonder why that might be.”
“No, you don’t.”
“No,” she agreed, reaching up to kiss him again. “I don’t.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Delphine
Hardwick’s scent filled her mind as he pushed her against the wall. Wild, passionate, and hers.
He gasped against her lips. “Do that again.”
Mine.
The feeling darted down the mate bond, sharp and greedy and unashamed. Hardwick moaned.
“And you’re mine.” His voice sent lightning down her spine and made heat unfurl between her legs.
The Heartwells had offered them their guesthouse for the night. Opal had called it ‘that little cabin down by the edge of the property,’ but that hardly did it justice. Not after the ‘little cabin’ she and Hardwick had spent their first few nights together in.
Honeymoon suite, more like.
The small house was tucked away privately, out of sight of the main lodge. Its décor was all solid wood and thick pillows and infinitely fall-upon-able. She and Hardwick hadn’t bothered unpacking the luggage that Pebbles and Pascal had smuggled up. The teasing desire that had built almost to breaking point as they laughed and talked and celebrated with the Heartwells and the newly forged, smaller Belgrave clan had lasted until they