Griffin had just finished telling me that he wanted to get to know me (better than myself apparently), which made me a little nervous. When he had tried to “get to know me” this afternoon, all he’d wanted to know was my S**ual history. What was he going to ask next? For a map of my entire family tree?
“Tell me about yourself, little fox,” Griffin said, a small smile on his face.
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything.”
Well, that’s vague.
Before I had a chance to fumble for an answer, the door opened and a couple of kitchen staff appeared. They were wearing the same uniforms I’d seen at the dinner party with the former Alpha King and they carried trays of food in their hands some sort of meat that looked too fancy for me to identify at first glance. It also looked like way too much food for two people, but I wasn’t about to complain.
“Honey roast duck and cilantro-soaked rice, Your Majesties,” a young staff member said, her voice timid and small. “Would either of My Graces like a glass of wine?” She kept her eyes on the bottle of red wine in her hands the entire time she spoke as if she wasn’t allowed to make eye contact.
Maybe she isn’t.
While I wasn’t normally a big drinker. or really one at all a glass of wine to settle my nerves and make it through this awkward dinner sounded wonderful.
“I would like a glass of wine please,” I piped up and I could see Griffin raise an eyebrow out of the corner of my eye.
If I’m going to be spending in a castle for the foreseeable future, I might as well take advantage of some of the perks like fancy, expensive wine.
Besides, the drinking age is 18 in Canada.
I expected the girl to start pouring the wine into my glass, but instead, she just looked at Griffin. He shook his head slightly and she left without another word my wine glass still empty.
Annoyance crept into my veins. Did having a single glass of wine really require hist permission? And why did everyone seem to know that but me?
“What’s wrong with a glass of wine?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. “You said you wanted to know stuff about me well, fact number one, I sometimes like wine with dinner.”
An amused smile made its way onto Griffin’s face. He could obviously sense my annoyance but it didn’t upset him – he must’ve thought it was hilarious that he had the final say on my drink decisions. Q
“It’s our first dinner together,” Griffin said, “I’d rather you not be intoxicated for it.”
I rather would be.
“It was one glass of wine,” I countered, “I didn’t realize what I put in my b*dy needed your approval first.”
Griffin smiled and I caught a glimpse of his sharp teeth. “Oh, little fox,” he said, “Everything you put in your b*dy requires my permission.” (@
My face flushed red I hadn’t meant it like that!
??/p>
“I wasn’t trying to make an innuendo,” I said, and my frustration only seemed to amuse him more. “And it was just one glass. Not even my father cares if I have a glass of wine, you know.”
Griffin smirked and I swear I saw his eyes darken. “I’m definitely not your father, little fox,” he said, “But at some point, I suspect you will be calling me Daddy.”
I couldn’t even pretend to hide the tomato red blush on my face or the way my thighs seemed to squirm at that last part. Unfortunately, that seemed to be the reaction he wanted.
Quick! Change the subject, Clark!
“You said you wanted to get to know me,” the words stumbled out of my mouth, and I tried to pretend that he couldn’t see just how much he affected me. “So ask me something and keep it PG-13.”
If the large smirk on his face was any indicator, Griffin knew exactly how off-
balance he’d thrown me and he loved it. He took a bite of his roast duck, his eyes thoughtful. O
As he thought of a question, I finally began cutting up my food. The S**ual innuendos had made me completely forget about the heavenly-smelling food. sitting in front of me.
And, after taking a bite, I realized the duck tasted just as divine as it smelled.
“When did you learn of the existence of werewolves?” he finally asked, curious and dark eyes on me. I was surprised by the question – I had been half-expecting something S**ual and way too personal.
“When I was eleven,” I told him, “That’s when I started living with my dad. He told me almost immediately. There was just no way to hide the large furry wolves that kept running by the house or why everyone kept referring to my dad as
Alpha.”
Now it was Griffin’s turn to look surprised. “You didn’t know until you were eleven?” he asked, “I knew you were human but I was under the impression that you’d lived with wolves your whole life.”
I shook my head. “No, I lived with my mom until I was eleven,” I said, “I found out about the existence of werewolves and the fact that I had a dad within the same week. What about you, when did you learn about the existence of wolves?”
“What do you mean?” Griffin raised an eyebrow, still smirking, “I’ve been a wolf my entire life, little fox.”
“Well, yeah,” I said, “But like, you never had questions as to why you could. transform into a big furry wolf as a kid? I thought that would at least warrant a conversation.”
Understanding dawned on Griffin’s face. “Oh, yes,” he said, “I shifted for the first time when I was fifteen, but I’ve known I was a wolf before I could talk in complete sentences. He explained what being a werewolf would entail, and even more, he told me I would rule the wolves one day.”
A dark look suddenly passed over Griffin’s face. “He wasn’t very gentle about it, either,” he said, “It didn’t matter to him that I was just a kid. He wanted to make sure I knew everything.”
I couldn’t explain why I was so interested in Griffin’s history with his dad maybe it had to do with the fact that he’d beheaded the guy earlier but I wanted to know more.
“What do you mean?” I asked gently.
Griffin looked up at me, a bitter smile on his face. “I’m not sure how much you know about my family’s history,” he said, “But my mother died in childbirth with. me. She was my father’s mate, he was hysterical about her death…he never really recovered. He could never understand that her death was just an unfortunate tragedy her b*dy just wasn’t physically strong enough to handle it.”
He paused before continuing. “He had to find some explanation for it someb*dy to blame. From what I understand, he started with the healers who helped deliver me. He was convinced they had done something wrong that caused her death, and even when he wasn’t able to find a mistake, he killed them anyway.”
my throat.
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