The Hidden (Shadowed Wings #1)(15)

If it wasn’t for the wings that I can’t seem to put away, I’d wonder if I was in fact still a latent. Maybe I just imagined myself as a gryphon, because I sure as fuck can’t get her to work with me when I’m clearly in a state of crisis.

I never did like fucking birds.

Not even my attempt to piss my animal off results in anything, and I check back into the here and now, where I’m being held against a strong body and doing my best not to like it.

“What are you guys going to do?” I ask, as I watch Ryn kneel down and start to pull things out of the brown leather bag he’s clutching. I ignore the ring of excitement I can hear in my voice and immediately question whether Stockholm syndrome kicks in this fast?

“We’re going to finish what you tried to stop in the bathroom,” Ryn tells me as he pulls out the same items that Tysa had clutched in her arms.

I expect Loa—and the guards she threatened would hold me down—to come stomping out of the forest, but to my surprise, it doesn’t happen. I squirm to get out of Zeph’s hold, but he just grips my neck tighter. His domination stirs something inside of me, and at first I’m not sure what it is. My vision sharpens, and a prickle moves through me, and I immediately recognize the signs my grandmother used to tell me about the shift. The feathers on my wings ruffle and fluff up, and I welcome the stubborn bitch of a gryphon inside of me to wake the fuck up and take over.

Finally!

Ryn’s head snaps up from where he’s arranging all the vials and bowls on a rock. “She’s waking,” he announces, his tone laced with warning.

“I know, I can feel it,” Zeph tells him.

“Well, if you don’t want to—”

I don’t hear the rest of what Ryn has to say, because the next thing I know, Zeph is leaning over me, and his lips are inches away from the shell of my ear.

“Shhhh,” he soothes. “I’ve got you now, little sparrow, no one is here to hurt you. You’re safe in our hands,” he reassures, and just like that, I can feel my gryphon sinking away.

“No,” I yell in objection, and I start to work harder to try and get away from Zeph. We are not okay; do you not see that I’m naked and being manhandled? We’re about as far from being okay as it fucking gets! Where are you going? I scream at my gryphon, but she disappears all the same.

I try to stretch out my wings to break Zeph’s hold and wiggle away, but he just pins me tighter to him. My gryphon doesn’t respond to anything that’s happening to me this time, and impotent frustration barrels through me. I kick, claw and punch at anything I can, but Zeph just chuckles in my ear, pissing me off even more. I grit my teeth and screech out my anger. I pull a solid bitch move and grab a fist full of his black wavy locks and yank hard.

Zeph bites me.

Not hard enough to draw blood, but he chomps down on where my neck meets my shoulder and applies pressure until his meaning is clear. He’s seen my bitch move and raised me a bitch move.

I let go of his hair, and he releases his teeth from my neck. He starts to frog-march me back to the water’s edge, his big body herding me exactly where he wants me to go. I pretend the goose bumps that rise all over my body are from the cold and not in any response to his dominant behavior. I’ve always liked some fight in my partners, but I’ve never experienced anything like this before. In the past, I’ve always ended up being the dominant person in my relationships, and as much as I’ve fantasized about finding a big alpha asshole, now that one is holding me by the nape and marching me somewhere I don’t want to go, I can’t say I’m a huge fan of it.

“Don’t move,” Zeph warns me when we get to the rocky lip of the pool I was cleaning up in previously, and his grip loosens from my nape.

I immediately dash to the right, but Zeph reaches out and plucks me back to where he wants me. We repeat this a couple more times before I accept that I’m not getting away. I stare daggers at him as he reaches down and starts to unlace the black leather armor he’s wearing. I can’t seem to look away as he unties his vest on one side and then slips it and the black undershirt off. I take in all seven plus feet of him, every inch hard muscle covered in soft olive-toned skin, dusted with black hair on his chest, arms, and the happy trail that leads into his pants. He reaches down and starts to undo the laces at his crotch, and my fascination turns into panic.

A weird keening sound escapes me as terror bubbles up my throat. My wings seem to spring into action of their own accord and start to flap furiously in an effort to get me the fuck out of here. Zeph’s honey-dipped gaze snaps up to mine, and his eyes widen at the fear he must see there. He takes a step toward me as I lift off of the ground, but arms wrap around me from behind, and I scream and thrash to get out of Ryn’s hold.

“You’re okay,” he tells me over and over again. I fucking hate that tears start to stream down my cheeks as I rage and swear and fight as hard as I can to get away. My gryphon doesn’t even stir, and I curse her and them and my grandmother for getting me into this situation. I’ve never felt so fucking helpless in my life, and if I make it out of this alive, I will do everything I can to never feel this way again.

“I will fucking die before I let you rape me,” I screech at them, and I slam my head back, hoping it connects with Ryn’s face somehow and breaks something, but the fucker is too tall, and all I manage to slam into is his muscled chest.