by Zoe Chant
“O-of course,” Hayley stuttered, trying not to let her expression betray the ridiculous leap of her heart at the prospect. “I’d love that. I, I mean, I have a lot of questions I’d love to ask you.”
“Here’s my number,” Griff said, handing her a card. “If Danny shifts again, or you’re worried about anything—anything at all—give me a call. I promise I’ll come straight away.”
“Can you come back tomorrow?” Danny asked eagerly, bouncing along in their wake as she led Griff toward the front door. “Mommy, can he? Pleeeeeeease? Can he stay for dinner? Can we-”
“Danny!” Hayley covered his mouth before he could propose that ‘Mr. Griff’ stayed for a sleepover. “I’m sure Mr. Griff is very busy.”
“Actually, I’d love to come round tomorrow,” Griff said, crooking a smile at her that made her go weak at the knees. “If it wouldn’t be too much of an imposition.”
“Oh, no!” Hayley bit her lip. “I mean, after everything you’ve done, the least I can do is cook you dinner. We didn’t have any plans for tomorrow, anyway.”
“In that case, why don’t I come by around four?” Griff winked at Danny. “That gives us plenty of time to play before supper, eh lad?” He looked back at Hayley, his expression turning more serious. “And maybe after Danny’s in bed, you and me could have a wee chat about…a few things.”
Was she imagining the heat burning in the depths of those golden eyes?
Don’t be a fool. Of course you are. You’re a tired, stressed single mom wearing no makeup and a sweater with spaghetti sauce stains. No man—especially not one like him—is going to look at you that way.
Hayley tore herself away from Griff’s charismatic gaze, feeling the blush creep up her cheeks again. “Yes,” she said faintly. “I’d…like that.”
“Bye Mr. Griff!” Danny waved vigorously after the firefighter’s retreating back. “See you tomorrow!” He heaved a great, heartfelt sigh. “Mommy, I wish he could stay now.”
Hayley smoothed his hair. “I know, baby. I know.”
So do I.
CHAPTER THREE
Griff
Not even the deep, throbbing pain in Griff’s overstrained knee could dim his elation as he drove home.
My mate! I’ve found my mate!
He’d never dared to hope that he even had one true mate, like a normal shifter. He’d lain awake many nights, worrying that his two inner animals would mean that he had two separate mates—one for the lion, and one for the eagle. What would happen if his lion fiercely pulled him towards one woman, while his eagle equally fiercely pulled him away…?
In his darkest moments, he’d even hoped that he didn’t have a mate at all. A lifetime alone would be better than having his mind torn apart by his bitterly jealous beasts.
But as it turned out, his fears had been groundless. For once, his lion and his eagle were in perfect agreement. Hayley was their mate.
Hayley was his mate.
And what a mate! Griff sighed in longing at the thought of her sweet round face and glorious curves. With her son in her arms, she’d made a perfect picture of lush, fertile womanhood, the sort that stirred a man’s deepest, most primal urges to claim and protect. Soft yet strong, tender yet fierce…so fearless in defense of her child, yet so sweetly shy when it came to herself.
Griff had tried his best to stay professional, but a man would have to be deaf, blind, and dead not to react to her plump hips and full breasts. Yet she’d blushed and looked away when she’d noticed his appreciation of her stunning body. Not in the manner of a woman who didn’t want such attention, but in the way of one who didn’t believe anyone could possibly look at her with desire. She’d reacted like someone who’d become so used to thinking of herself as a mother, she’d forgotten that she was a woman as well.
Griff burned to show Hayley that side of herself again. To trace slow, lingering kisses across her softly rounded shoulders, to cup those bounteous breasts, his thumbs teasing their erect tips, while-
Griff shook his head, forcing such thoughts away as the ache in his groin threatened to rival the pain in his bad leg. He made himself concentrate on the road until his cock grudgingly subsided. Much as he wanted with every fiber of his being to sweep Hayley off her feet and into his bed, he couldn’t.
We can, corrected his eagle, impatiently. She desires us, as much as we desire her. It is obvious from the way she looked at us. Simply clasp her close, and-
Stupid bird! interrupted his lion. She is a mother! Her first thought must always be for her cub. We must approach her slowly, carefully, in order to win her trust. We must show her that we mean him no harm.
His eagle clicked its beak in irritation. Of course we will treasure her fledgling as our own. She would never even doubt that, were it not for you, accursed cat. She is only wary because she can sense your savage, feline nature-
ENOUGH! Griff roared inwardly, shoving between his two inner beasts as they went for each other’s throats. Searing pain split his skull, the lion’s claws and the eagle’s talons raking across his soul.
Gritting his teeth, he swerved to the side of the road, ignoring the annoyed honks of the cars behind at the abrupt maneuver. Safely parked, he focused on his breathing, trying to subdue the feral energy racing through his veins. His hands clenched on the steering wheel. His skin felt hot and tight, stretched wrongly over his bones…
Not here! Not now!
In desperation, he focused on the memory of Hayley’s shy smile and warm brown eyes. He concentrated on how she made him feel, the things his inner beasts agreed on—the bone-deep need to protect her, the fire she sparked in his blood, the hunger for her touch and the all-consuming longing to be with her.
It worked. Griff scarcely dared to believe it, but his inner beasts subsided, drawn back into disgruntled alignment by the overpowering instincts inspired by their mate. His lion still paced and snarled, and his eagle still mantled its wings and stared at the cat balefully, but at least he was no longer being tugged apart by them.
Griff let out a shaky breath, painfully straightening his cramped fingers. He rolled his shoulders and neck, loosening his knotted muscles before he restarted the car. He pulled back onto the road, relieved and astonished that he’d managed to avoid a full-blown fight between his inner beasts.
If this is the effect Hayley has on them, maybe I should tell her what she means to me. Sooner rather than later.
You won’t, though, growled his lion, right at the back of his mind. You agree with me.
Griff made a noncommittal noise, unwilling to provoke his eagle by siding too clearly with his lion. But it was true. Regardless of his own personal situation, he had to think of what was best for Hayley. And what was best for Danny.
From Danny’s endearing, heartbreaking eagerness to win his approval, Griff was certain that the little boy had never had any sort of father figure at all. Hayley and Danny had been alone together, just the two of them, for a very long time. But for all their obvious devotion to each other, there was still a secret, hungry hole in Danny’s soul. Griff longed to fill that gap, nearly as much as he ached to heal the matching wound in Hayley’s heart.
But if he did…he’d just be setting them up for future pain.
Griff set his shoulders, pushing his impossible longings into a small, sealed box in the back of his mind. He refused to let the bleak reality of the future spoil the joy of meeting his mate. He made himself concentrate on what he could do for his mate and her son, rather than what he wanted to do.
I can be Hayley’s friend. I can be Danny’s alpha. I can help them, support them, take care of them…at least for now. That’s more than I ever thought I’d have. It’ll have to be enough.
His eagle and his lion both bristled in protest, but he overruled their objections. Hayley and Danny had already been abandoned once. He was not going to break both their hearts again.
That would make him no better than Hayley’s ex.
If we ever meet this Reiner Ljonsson
, his lion and his eagle snarled as one, we shall make him suffer for what he did to our mate and her son.
“At least we all agree on something,” Griff said under his breath as he pulled into his driveway.
His house was just a small semi-detached—a duplex, Hayley would call it he thought with a small smile, remembering her American accent—but it was still his. His nest, his den. Both his lion and his eagle relaxed at being back in their own territory again.
He could tell immediately that John was already home, both from the enormous pair of muddy boots neatly lined up on the doormat and the sound of humming emanating from the kitchen. Not that most people would have recognized the peculiar sound as “humming.” It sounded more like a couple of bassoons having a relaxed, friendly conversation, with occasional comments from a passing humpback whale.
Griff grinned, recognizing the melody. John was cleaning.
A lot of people hummed as they did chores. With John, you could tell exactly which chores he was doing…though not what else he was doing at the same time.
Griff poked his head round the door of the kitchen. Sure enough, John was washing the dishes. This meant that he was standing at the stove, stirring a pan and humming, while six feet behind him a floating sphere of water industriously rinsed off a stack of plates in the sink.
Living with a sea dragon certainly had its moments.
“You know,” Griff observed, leaning on the door frame, “we do have a dishwasher.”
*The dishwasher barks.* John’s deep mental voice echoed in Griff’s head. The enormous shifter didn’t pause in his humming, maintaining his control over the water washing the plates. *Its tone of voice is too abrupt. I prefer to ask the water politely.*
Griff had never worked out why his two inner animals meant mythic shifters like John could communicate with him telepathically, but it came in handy. Of course, it would be even handier if he could actually talk back that way, but he couldn’t even send to fellow lions or eagles. If he tried, his own mental voice just came out as a doubled, incoherent jumble, rather like two people screaming in an echoing cavern.
“Well, I guess I should be grateful you at least approve of the shower’s manners,” he said out loud. “Not to mention the toilet. Sorry I’m late, I got delayed. Everything under control?”
*I believe I have correctly burned the fish this time.* John’s telepathic tone radiated pleased accomplishment. *It is now black on the outside, but the machine in the ceiling has not yet screeched at me. This is the way humans like it, yes?*
“Smells done to me.” Well past done, actually, but at least John hadn’t set off the smoke detector. By John’s standards, that counted as a culinary triumph. Griff clapped him on the shoulder, having to reach up to do so. “Good job. It all looks delicious.”
This was a slight exaggeration, but Griff liked to be encouraging. And John had come on amazingly, considering he’d only a year ago he’d been new to the entire idea of “cooking.” Or indeed, “fire.” Most of John’s people spent their entire life in sea dragon form, at the bottom of the ocean. Much of life on land was utterly foreign to them.
Like the difference between “fruit” and “vegetables,” Griff thought to himself, eying a simmering pot of what smelled suspiciously like a mixture of diced carrot and apple. Oh well, at least it has to be more edible than that banana-tuna casserole last week.
“Did you have a good day?” he asked John, starting to set the table. “What happened with that car crash I sent you all to?”
The water churning in the sink fell still as John stopped humming. His broad forehead creased thoughtfully. “I had an argument with a cloud,” he said out loud in his deep, oddly-accented voice. “The water had travelled unusually far, and wished to continue its journey. But I managed to persuade it to taste English soil in the end.”
Griff suppressed a wry chuckle. Even though John had lived with him for almost a year now, the sea dragon’s unique perspective could still surprise him. “I meant, what happened with the trapped people,” he said patiently.
“Oh.” John shook his head, the golden charms braided into his long, indigo hair chiming against each other with the motion. “Yes, we saved them all. There were no serious injuries. We vanquished the flames easily, without great challenge to our skills.”
John sounded mildly disappointed. Then again, he’d once told Griff that the literal translation of “have a nice day” in his own language was “may you be sorely tested by worthy opponents,” which said an awful lot about sea dragons.
“And you?” John asked, a little hesitantly. “Did you too have a…productive day?”
John’s stoic, controlled face was hard to read for most people, but to Griff’s eagle eyes the sea dragon was an open book. John was worrying about making him feel inferior. After all, John’s job involved charging into infernos and saving lives. Griff, on the other hand, got to answer telephones.
Griff appreciated John’s tact, but for once it wasn’t a sore point to compare their respective days. “Fairly good,” Griff said casually. “Handled calls. Dispatched fire teams. Found my mate.”
John’s spatula clattered to the ground as the sea dragon spun round to stare at him.
“Funny story, actually.” Griff dropped his pretend-casual tone, unable to contain his broad grin. “She called the fire department, and-”
That was as far as he got, before all the air whooshed out of his lungs as John seized him in a bone-cracking hug. An excited torrent of sound like an entire woodwind section having a party burst from the sea dragon shifter’s mouth.
“Language, John!” Griff managed to gasp out. He was hardly a small man himself, but John had still managed to lift him clean off the ground. “I don’t speak sea dragon, remember?”
John reluctantly switched back to English, though he still half-sang his words with excitement. “But this is wonderful news, oath-brother! Where is she? Why have you not brought her back with you? Oh!” He abruptly set Griff back on his feet, a slight shadow crossing his overjoyed expression. “Of course, I understand. I will pack my hoard immediately.”
“Whoa!” Griff caught John’s arm as the sea dragon turned for the door. “Hang on, what do you mean, pack? You don’t have to go anywhere.”
John cocked his head to one side. “Surely you wish privacy for you and your mate?”
Griff’s blood heated at the thought of Hayley in his house. In his bed. “Oh, you have no idea how much I do wish that.” He couldn’t help letting out a wistful sigh. “Unfortunately, it’s not likely to be necessary.”
John blinked at him. “But…she is your mate. Will she not be moving into your territory immediately?”
“I’m flattered that you think I work that fast. But no, of course not. I only met her this afternoon, John!”
“But she is your mate,” John repeated, sounding utterly baffled. “You have met each other. How can you not have mated already?”
It was Griff’s turn to blink. “Is that how it works for your people? You meet your mate and immediately, ah, mate?”
“Of course,” John said, looking just as dumbfounded as Griff felt. “This is not how it works for you land shifters?”
“Alas, no. Though I have to admit, your way sounds rather appealing.” Griff shook his head, a little envious of John. It must be nice, living in a culture where everyone knew about shifters and their mates, and understood the overwhelming power of that instant bond. “It’s more complicated for us.”
John shook his head too. “Humans. I shall never understand you. Are you certain you are not over-thinking this, my oath-brother? As I recall, Dai and Chase consummated their respective unions with appropriate speed when they met their mates.”
Griff shot him a level look. “Are you seriously suggesting I take Chase as a role model in matters of romance? Or even Dai?” The two other firefighters were still the subject of much good-natured teasing down at the pub for the ridiculous problems they had caused themselves in the course of
pursuing their mates.
The corner of John’s mouth curled up. “Hmm. Perhaps not. But still-”
“There are complications,” Griff interrupted him. His overworked knee was threatening to give way at last. He sat down in one of the kitchen chairs, stretching his bad leg out with a wince. “Not all of them on my side, too. She has a wee son, you see.”
“So she is fertile,” John said approvingly as he turned to retrieve the forgotten plates of food. Sliding one in front of Griff, he sat down too, having some difficulty fitting his seven-foot tall bulk behind the table. “Why would that be a complication? Unless—oh.” His expression changed abruptly to understanding sorrow. “Oh, oath-brother. The father still lives? She is still joined?”
“Married, you mean? No, he’s not in the picture.” Griff suppressed a growl at the thought of Danny’s worthless so-called father. If I ever get my hands on him…
John was back to looking lost again. “Then…is she still in mourning for her former partner? A noble sentiment, of course, but surely joining with her one true mate would ease that grief?”
Griff leaned his elbows on the table, contemplating the sea dragon shifter across it. “This is one of those times when we’re having two entirely separate conversations, isn’t it?”
John let out a rich, rueful laugh. “It would indeed appear we have swum into a cultural misunderstanding.” He picked up his fork. “Perhaps you should explain how human women can apparently have children without fathers.”
“Do you really not have absent fathers, among your people?” At John’s blank look, Griff clarified, “When a man doesn’t want to take responsibility for his child, so refuses to have anything to do with them.”