Page 24 of The Hidden
I think back and try to look at my few memories of my mother and father, but nothing stands out. “My father was from an island. I don’t remember the name, and my gran hated talking about it.”
“What washisname?” Zeph asks, his focus on the wall of the cave and not on me.
“Awlon...Awlon Umbra. He had black hair and lime green eyes that always lit up when he saw me,” I tell him, a small smile sneaking across my face at the memory.
“Awlon the Dark was the last reigning prince of the Ouphe,” Zeph announces, and he looks at me with even more scrutiny than he did before. “He died though, he was murdered by a servant,” he adds, and he sounds like he’s trying to convince himself of these facts. “Your mother?”
“Noor. Her name was Noor.” I try to recall her maiden name, but it doesn’t come to me. I know it was different than Gran’s, but I can’t remember what it was.
Zeph gasps and then starts to cough. My gaze flashes up to his, and I can’t tell if he’s choking on something or trying to cover up his reaction to my mother’s name.
“What?” I demand, handing him the waterskin.
He takes a deep pull, and I wait impatiently for him to explain what sent him into a coughing fit. He shakes his head at me as he swallows another mouthful of water. “The name Noor is common around these parts. You’d have to check the archives with her full name to see if you have any other family here,” he finally explains, and I sag with disappointment. “We should sleep; we have a long walk ahead of us tomorrow, and we both need to heal.”
I nod at Zeph’s retreating back and watch him settle on his side of the fire, his back to me. I can’t shake the suspicion that he’s not being straight with me. Then again, it’s not like I’ve been in the loop about anything since I got here. I finish the rest of my meal and wash the sticky juice from my hands and face with some water from the skin. I lie on my side again and scoot closer to the fire, feeling cold. It’s like the elements and my memories are working in tandem to make me feel empty and freezing.
I debate for a second about scooting even closer to the stone ringed fire pit, but the image of me rolling into the fire in my sleep keeps me from closing the distance. A shiver runs through me, and I pull as much of the fur around me as I can while still lying on it. Zeph releases an irritated huff.
“I can hear your teeth chattering from here,” he observes, annoyance painting every word.
I flip his back the bird and try to stop my sudden shivering.“Psst...Pigeon,”I call.“Want to go all feathered and save me from hypothermia?”I ask, but she doesn’t stir.“Who’s a pretty gryphon?”I say in my most playful voice usually reserved for cute puppies and kittens. Nothing.“Fine, but if I die in my sleep from the cold, you only have yourself to blame,”I warn her.
I pull the top of my shirt over my mouth and try to breathe warm air into the makeshift cocoon. Zeph grumbles and stands up, grabs his fur, and tromps over to my side of the fire. He lies down, his back touching mine, and silence fills the cave again. After a while of lying with Zeph at my back, I start to warm up. Apparently, he’s an asshole and a walking, talking space heater, who knew? I snuggle into my furs, my shivers chased away by his close proximity, and I fall asleep to the memory of my dad’s happy-to-see-me eyes.
13
“Fucking, fuck, fucker!” I whisper growl at the stick that just tried to stab through the soft arch of my foot.
Zeph shoots me a warning look that tells me to keep it down, so I proceed to pick up said fucking stick and chuck it at him. I nail him in the back of the head, and the stick clings to his curly hair. I raise my hands triumphantly and mouthscore! I give myself a thousand points for nailing him exactly where I wanted to and smile until I step on a rock which then finds itself on the receiving end of my whispered wrath.
I want my fucking shoes and pants. I shifted with them on which means they’re probably shredded and sitting at the bottom of the lake, so as soon as we get back, I’m tracking down Ami and making him get me new ones. Tricky little fucker. I’m also going to treat him to a solid junk punch. I should feel wrong about hitting a teenage boy in the junk, but it’s the best punishment I can come up with at the moment.
We’ve been walking all day. I woke up cold and alone in the cave just as the sun was peeking over the horizon. Zeph showed up about ten minutes later with more duda fruit and a side of extra surly gryphon. He said we couldn’t take the furs as they would be needed by the next gryphon who sought sanctuary, but he did keep his pants and let me keep my shirt.
“If you would let me carry you, you could stop cursing the ground every two minutes,” Zeph snarls quietly at me.
“I’m healed, and I can walk,” I defend, repeating the same argument I used when he tried to pick me up back at the cave.
“Well, you’re slow and you’re clumsy. This is taking twice as long as it should!”
He reaches out to grab me, and I quickly scramble away from him. The whole skin to skin thing we had going on during yesterday’s trek is the last thing I need to happen today. I can’t spend all day smelling him and feeling his body against mine. It creates too much of a distraction from the fact that I hate him, and I need to focus on that instead of his muscled back and an ass that I want to bounce quarters off of or bite, I haven’t quite decided yet.
Zeph lunges for me, and I bite back a squeal and sprint to get away from him. Pigeon sits up, and I can just picture her clapping with glee. She’s finally getting the chase she was so desperate for when she flew the fuck out here and landed us in this trouble yesterday. Zeph growls and charges after me, and I pick up the pace, weaving through trees to escape him. I run full out until my lungs protest and I have to slow down in order to fill them properly.
I look back to see if Zeph’s closing the distance behind me, but he’s not there. I stop completely, trying to listen over my ragged breaths to the sounds around me. I scan the surrounding forest, certain that at any moment, he’s going to pop out from somewhere and scare the shit out of me to teach me a lesson. I dart between trees soundlessly and ignore the excitement I feel over this cat and mouse game we’re suddenly playing. I feel eyes on me, and my head swivels back and forth as I search for his honey eyes and huge body amidst tree trunks and bushes.
A twig snaps behind me, and I dart forward in an effort to avoid capture. I risk another look over my shoulder, which of course is when I slam right into his massive chest. Anoomphslams out of me at the contact, and his bruising grip lands on my shoulders.
“Ow, you’re fucking hurting me,” I warn, and then I freeze as I look up and discover that it’s not Zeph who’s holding me at all.
“Now what do we have here?” the gryphon shifter asks, the tips of his fingers digging into the meat of my arms even harder. The telltale lilac-on-the-wind smell fills my nose, but there’s a sharp citrusy smell to him too. I struggle and try to get away, but I don’t scream, too worried that it might bring more hunters my way. The large man slams me against the trunk of a tree, and my head cracks back against it, making me instantly dizzy. The world around me sways, and I try to blink it back into focus.
“What’s a pretty highborn girl doing out here at the edge of civilization?” the man asks me, raking his eyes down my body and slowly back up. He inhales deeply, and his smile grows even creepier. “You do look like a vision of naughtiness if I ever saw one,” he tells me lasciviously, dropping one hand down to the hem of my shirt.
I whimper and try to kick him away from me, but he clamps his other hand around my throat and squeezes, stopping the air from reaching my lungs. He lifts me off the ground, and I soundlessly claw at the hand around my throat. “Who would bring such a beauty all the way out here, huh, princess? Who’s out here playing with this pretty little cunt of yours?”
He snakes his hand under the bottom of my shirt and slowly, threateningly, moves it up my thigh. His pupils dilate, and fear pounds deafeningly in my head. Rage fills my chest, and I suddenly realize it’s not just fear pounding inside of me, it’s Pigeon ramming herself against my defenses and begging to be let out. I open the door I didn’t even know I had closed, and Pigeon explodes out of me. I embrace the shift as I try to keep from drowning in panic, and it’s over in the blink of an eye.
