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Shaking her head, Nix’s gaze flattened. “Here it is. You act at being the cool-headed male of study and serious strategy, but you are truly enjoying yourself, aren’t you, Arcturus?

” She huffed. “Royalty.” She dusted one of her wings, then lay on the ground, one hand slung over a voluptuous hip.

“Well, come on. You’ll need to lay your teeth on my neck if I’m not mistaken.

Let’s get this over with.” Lifting her chin, she exposed the jewel-toned scales underneath.

“Are you all right with this, Nix?” Vahly asked. “Be honest. I’ll find another way to raise this gryphon if you aren’t.”

“I’ve done stranger things to help out a couple, my dear.” She chuckled, and Vahly heard a touch of the old Nix in the sound.

Vahly sighed, relieved, and picked up the furious gryphon as Arc went to her.

He knelt, his gaze solemn. The wind teased the loose strands of his hair. “Forgive me for this, Mistress Nix of the Dragon’s Back.”

“Honey tongue. Hmm. If you tire of Vahly, do look me up.”

Vahly rolled her eyes.

Arc bent, parted his lips, and set his teeth on Nix’s throat. Nix murmured something wildly inappropriate. Vahly growled.

Tucked into the crook of Vahly’s arm, the gryphon looked from them to Vahly.

Vahly forced herself to calm down and pet the gryphon as if this were all perfectly normal. The gryphon squeaked and nuzzled her arm.

Arc stood, then helped Nix up. She took his hand and blew a small flame over his head. He jumped, laughing, and bowed slightly.

“And now,” he said, eyeing Vahly, “you need to dominate me.”

Vahly swallowed hard. A shiver danced down her body.

Nix, wearing a smile loaded with innuendo, took the gryphon from her gently.

“Shut it,” Vahly barked.

“I didn’t say a thing.” Nix stepped away.

Arc knelt as he had after Cassiopeia’s crowning, when he had sworn fealty to Vahly. He threw his head back and shut his eyes. His lashes were sable-black against his luminous cheeks. Here was an elven royal exposing his throat to a human. Vahly took a deep breath. This was insanity.

Vahly’s body warmed as she regarded him, so strong and so open to her. She imagined what it would feel like to drape herself over him now and have her way with that mouth of his.

But she pushed those thoughts away and went to work, setting her teeth against the cool column of his neck, as he had with Nix.

Arc’s throat moved. His breath snagged, then resumed at a quick pace. A tingling spread through Vahly, simmering under her skin like a wildfire spreading through dry grass. His elven magic combined with a power simpler than all of that—desire. She dared to touch the end of her tongue to his skin.

Blushing, she drew away.

“And that’s that,” she said, her voice husky. “What say you, gryphon? Do you agree not to tear him apart if he deigns to touch me again?”

Arc stood slowly and rubbed the back of his neck. He cleared his throat, then finally looked up. Vahly wasn’t certain whether he had enjoyed her secret touch or if he was angered. She decided to pretend it had been an accident.

Nix brushed the gryphon’s back. “He is already sprouting feathers and fur. Do I need to set my teeth to his throat now?” She looked as though she worried Vahly might draw her sword at the suggestion.

“I guess so.”

Flipping the gryphon gently, Nix kept an eye on the gryphon as she lowered her mouth to his neck. The gryphon’s gaze locked on Vahly and she smiled, hoping the intention would be clear. He stilled and stayed that way until Nix finished and turned him upright again.

In awe, Vahly watched the gryphon as Nix set him on the cave floor beside her bed of bright, leafy moss.

The gryphon began smoothing the start of some feathers above his shoulder.

Foggy-white fur caught the light, lengthening and thickening from the spot where new feathers stopped and on down his body.

Then he hopped out of the cave, ducking the scalloped tips of the akoli grapevines and heading into the sun.

Heart light, Vahly strapped her sword onto her belt and followed.

Nix and Arc chatted behind her.

As Vahly stared at the gryphon, a part of her heart, a corner she had never noticed, opened wide.

Tears pricked her eyes, and she blinked, confused at the sudden and overwhelming emotion. She didn’t even know what to name it, but she knew one thing for sure: Even in the most serious of card games, she’d never be able to hide her love for this creature.

Vahly grimaced, her stomach twisting.

A weakness, that’s what this was. A chink in her armor. Armor she’d donned after losing Dramour, Ibai, and Kemen.

The gryphon grew another few inches and boasted a fine lion’s pelt. Short and almost wooly, but thinner than wool. Finer, too. His tail swished, the end showing a tuft of hair as the fellow pranced around Vahly. His four paws, bright as gold coins, bounced lightly on the ground.

Magic thrummed inside Vahly’s chest, strong and sure. He was a weakness.

But he was also—somehow—a strength.

She exhaled and bent to place hands on either side of the gryphon’s head. Sharp intelligence sparked from his eyes, showing a deep wisdom that countered the fact that he had hatched only moments ago.

A strange feeling burned its way from Vahly’s palms toward her heart.

Love? Energy? Both?

“What should I call you?” Her voice broke on the last word, overcome with the fact that there was now a being in the world whose life mattered far more than anyone else’s.

Vahly chided herself. Amona deserved this feeling from her. Nix too. Possibly even Arc.

But there was no denying it. Though the gryphon was new to the world and to Vahly, her love for him was mighty.

“Familiar.” The word glowed in her mind’s eye. “We are bonded. We are kin.”

Arc and Nix stepped close, smiling and watching the gryphon with undisguised curiosity.

“Humans always did love their animals,” Nix said.

The gryphon extended his wings and flew into Vahly’s arms, eliciting a surprised yelp from her.

Nix grumbled. “We’ll have to work on your takeoff, youngling.”

The gryphon’s cool beak nudged Vahly’s collarbone, then nipped at the tie of her linen shirt. His body warmed her arms and torso, chasing off the day’s unusual chill.

“Anyone have suggestions on how to name a gryphon? Arc? You were presumed extinct as this fellow was. Do you have any ideas?”

“I don’t see how that relates, but …” He chuckled. The dawn’s light sparkled off his throwing knives. “I suppose you could name him after an attribute he displays.”

“You can’t speak telepathically with him, can you?”

“It doesn’t seem so.”

Vahly was secretly glad, though she knew it was churlish to think that way.

Nix’s gaze was distant, her mouth turned down, and the joy of the gryphon’s hatching gone from her face.

Vahly’s heart ached. The old Nix would have made several humorous attempts at names, but grief was pulling at her vivacious spirit, and Vahly wasn’t sure it was right to force her to act like she used to.

If Nix gave any sign of wanting to talk about their lost ones, Vahly would be there. But she wouldn’t push. Not yet.

At least Nix mentioned Dramour, Ibai, and Kemen now and then. That was a start.

If Vahly were being honest with herself, she would admit that she had little desire to express her own ongoing grief.

Because what good would it do? They had mourned their friends.

The three dragons were gone. Remembering too much only brought searing pain.

And that was another weakness, another chink in the armor.

“What do you think the gryphon can do to help our Queenie girl?” Nix stretched one wing to block the direct sunlight from the squinting hatchling.

Then Nix’s gaze caught on something in the distance.

Her eyes opened wide.

Without a sound, she soared into the sky to crash into a snarling Jade dragon.