The Hidden (Shadowed Wings #1)(8)



“Gryphon,” I whisper, trying the name on to see how it feels around my body. A knowing warmth fills me, and I look down at my palms in awe.

I’m a fucking gryphon!

The air in front of me shifts, and I look up with alarm, reminded of what it felt like to get attacked in the air. Like some fucked up flashback, the sky shadow—who I’m pretty sure is the guy, Zeph, Gray Eyes was talking about—is stomping toward me, hate radiating from his eyes. I have no idea what to do. He’s massive, easily seven and a half feet tall, and he looks like he wants to crush me...again.

He stops just shy of me, his chest shoving against mine slightly, and I have to fight to keep my footing and not take a step back to make room for him. I lean into him, refusing to give him my space, and my traitorous body responds to his proximity. My nipples harden against him, and just the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes, sends a zing of anticipation and pleasure straight to my clit.

“I don’t know who you are, but I’m going to find out. If Lazza thinks I can be fooled by a counterfeit call and a pair of tits, he has another thing coming.”

I stare up at the abhorrence pouring out of his eyes, and I bristle. I have no idea what he just said, but the tone is clear. Anger takes over, and I fist bump the death wish that just showed up inside of me. I lift my hands and push the massive fucker doing his best to intimidate me. He takes a couple steps back, and I don’t know who’s more shocked by that, me or him.

“Fuck you,” I spit venomously at him, and the shock sluffs off his face as he charges me. He slams up against me again, and it’s like he hits a barrier right where I begin. I’m ready for him this time, and I cheer loudly inside when I once again hold my ground. I’m not sure what he’s going to do to me, but I know it’s not going to be good. I can feel his fisted hands at his side and the rage pouring out of every pore.

He roars in my face, and I jump with surprise as the angry sound assaults me. I flinch, not able to help it, and then tense, knowing at any second the vicious sound pouring out of him will be followed by a beating. I stare at him in challenge. He’s going to fucking annihilate me, but that doesn’t make him the tough asshole he clearly thinks he is. He can stare into my eyes and see just how little I think of him as his fists connect with my body.

I breathe heavily, adrenaline, fear, and anger pumping through me. Shock suddenly drowns out all my other emotions as a flash of pain runs up my back. The next thing I know, a pair of large ebony-feathered wings rip out of my back. I keep my face blank in spite of what I’m feeling inside.

Well, that’s fucking new.

Based on the surprised look that Zeph is now wearing, it’s not only new, but apparently a pretty kick ass trick at that. I’ll take it.





4





Gasps fill the room, and I whimper, wavering slightly when my wings spread to almost twice my size. They’re not nearly as massive as they were when I was a gryphon though, and I wonder if they adjust in size to my different forms. Zeph stops roaring immediately, like my wings just reached out and bitch slapped him silent. I expect the new black feathered appendages to feel heavy or force me to topple over on my back like an upturned turtle, but the opposite is true. They feel like they’re a part of my body just like my arms and legs do. They feel like they’ve always been there and my body has always accommodated them.

Zeph’s honey gaze traces the top curve of my feathers, and he rolls his shoulders as if the appearance of my wings is somehow calling to his own. The ability to partial shift is rare back in the shifter world I grew up knowing about. Judging by the reaction currently circulating through this room, I’d guess the same is true here. Zeph closes his shocked mouth, and next thing I know, he’s stomping out of the room and slamming the large intricately carved doors behind him.

I turn back to the others, feeling helpless, frustrated, and fighting against the adrenaline currently slamming through my system. My stare lands on Gray Eyes’ stormy gaze, and suddenly white and gray wings thrust out of his back. We both give a sharp inhale of surprise. He flexes them out behind him, his rain-cloud gray gaze never leaving mine. He gives his massive wings a quick flap, and the air stirs and whips around the room.

My wings itch to do the same thing, but I keep them tightly locked together at my back. It’s clear that, for whatever reason, Zeph thinks I’m a threat despite the teenage lie detector test still leaning casually against the wall. Gray Eyes’ contempt-filled stare tells me that he’s feeling the same way. The last thing I need to do is get torn apart because I flapped my wings and they deciphered that as an act of aggression instead of me just stretching.

Gray Eyes pulls his wings back inside of him, and I stare at where they used to be over his shoulder. He just did that like it was as easy as breathing, and it makes envy and wonder flash through me. I take a deep breath and try to coax mine back inside, but nothing happens.

“She needs to be cleansed before we go any further,” Gray Eyes declares.

The dark-haired woman gives a small nod. “Yes, Ryn. I mean, Altern,” she quickly corrects when Gray Eyes—who’s apparently named Ryn—narrows his eyes at her.

The way people here use Syta and Altern makes it clear that they’re titles of some sort. They’re said with reverence and respect and mark Zeph and Ryn as leaders or commanders maybe. It also seems anyone with a title is a raging douche bag.

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