When I stepped into the restaurant, the smell of burgers and burning oil hit me like a wave of nostalgia. It had been months since I'd last seen my friend, and I was actually excited to see him—I wouldn't tell him that, of course, but I couldn't quite hide the bounce in my steps as I approached his table in the corner. He looked the same, except for a weird sort of calm about him—like he'd figured something out that the rest of us were still struggling with. He was even wearing his glasses.
Sliding into the seat across from him, I wasted no time. "Yo," I began, grinning, “I hear you've been hanging out with dragons. What's that like?"
He paused mid-dip, a chicken nugget dripping in barbecue sauce held between his fingers. “Who told you that?" He asked, narrowing his eyes yet smiling just enough to make me suspicious.
“Doesn't matter," I said, waving him off. “What's it like?"
He shrugged, popping the nugget into his mouth. “It's… different."
“Different how?" I pressed. “What, do they have weird dragon quirks or something? Like, do they hoard gold and breathe fire when they're mad? I've only met a few."
He snorted. “Not exactly."
I was about to push him for details when something caught my eye at a nearby table. “Wait," I said, lowering my voice, “what's that?"
He glanced over, immediately catching on. A gryphon—a real, honest-to-god gryphon—sat at the table, her talons methodically dismantling a Fillet-O-Fish like she was performing surgery. I'd never seen a gryphon in person before, and I couldn't stop staring.
“She comes in almost every day," my friend explained casually. “Always orders the same thing—a medium Fillet-O-Fish—and then she does… that."
The wrapper had been carefully torn open, and she was now using a single talon to strip the breading from the fish patty with unnerving precision. The top bun lay discarded on the tray, along with the tartar sauce and lettuce, all neatly separated like she was dissecting her prey.
“Why doesn't she just order it plain?" I asked, unable to look away.
“A gryphon friend of mine said that it triggers some kind of primal hunting instinct."
“Seriously?" I glanced at him, half-expecting him to laugh, but he just shrugged.
“Yeah. Something about the process makes it more… satisfying."
We both watched as she worked, completely engrossed in her ritual. By now, she'd peeled the patty free from all traces of breading and held it up to the light, examining it like a jeweller appraising a diamond. Then, with a snap of her beak, she devoured it whole.
“Okay, yeah, that was kind of amazing," I admitted.
“See?" He said, grinning. “I told you it's fascinating."
“Fascinating is one word for it," I muttered. “But seriously, what's she doing with that filet? You think she—"
“Maybe it's a kink."
“A kink?" I repeated, laughing despite myself.
“Sure," he said, leaning in conspiratorially. “The way she's handling that filet... Maybe she finishes the ritual by, I don't know, putting it between her lips."
“They have beaks, you idiot," I replied, exasperated.
My friend didn't reply right away. Instead, he gave me a long, slow nod, his expression shifting to something suspiciously shifty. He said nothing, but the look on his face made my skin crawl.
“...Wait," I said, narrowing my eyes. “You're not talking about beaks anymore, are you?"
He shrugged, his lips twitching with a smirk.
“You're sick," I muttered, throwing a fry at him.
He chuckled, but the sound died in his throat as we both glanced back at the gryphon hen. She wasn't dissecting her fish anymore. She was staring directly at me.
Her sharp, golden eyes locked onto mine, and the way she tilted her head ever so slightly made it clear she'd noticed something. She rose gracefully, her wings shifting slightly, and began walking toward our table.
“Uh… she's coming over," I whispered, instinctively sitting up straighter.
“Yep," he muttered, his voice low, yet not at all worried.
The avian stopped just short of the table, her movements deliberate and smooth, talons clicking faintly against the tiles. She looked between us for a moment, but her gaze settled on my friend. She leaned in slightly, sniffing once, long and slow.
He shifted uncomfortably, his fingers drumming against the table. “Can I help you?"
The gryphon's eyes narrowed, and she recoiled slightly, a soft huff escaping her beak. Her feathers fluffed faintly as she straightened, fixing him with a disdainful look. Without a word, she reached into the small bag slung across her side, pulled out a business card, and extended it to me.
“You seem like the responsible one," she said smoothly, her voice rich and lilting. “You should have this. Keep it safe."
“Hey!"
She ignored him entirely, her gaze lingering on me for a moment longer. Then, with a flick of her feline tail, she turned and strode back to her table, her wings rustling faintly as she moved.
I stared down at the card in my hand, dumbfounded. It had a name—Kayt—and a phone number written in elegant, looping script.
James groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “She smelled Alys," he muttered.
“What?" I asked, completely lost.
“She smelled Alys," James repeated, sounding resigned. “Dragons and gryphons don't exactly get along. And, uh… I guess I reek of her right now."
“Reek of—hold on, what?"
James hesitated, clearly debating how much to say. “Dragons are… kind of territorial," he said finally. “They, uh, leave scents. It's a whole thing."
I stared at him, horrified. “So she just gave me her number because you smell like…" I trailed off, unable to finish the thought.
“Pretty much," James said, grabbing another nugget. “You're welcome, by the way."
“Welcome?" I gaped at him. “This is insane! How do you even live like this?"
James smirked, leaning back in his chair. “Carefully."
I shook my head, still trying to wrap my mind around everything. “You know," I said, studying him, “you seem… different."
“Different how?"
“I don't know. Calmer. Like, more grown-up or something."
James paused, his brow furrowing slightly as he thought. Finally, he shrugged. “Been through some stuff lately," he said. “Guess it changed me a little."
“Like what? Dragon drama?" I joked, but there was a genuine curiosity behind my words.
James chuckled softly. “Something like that. And I've been doing online classes, too."
“No kidding?"
“Yeah." He nodded. “Figured I should get my act together. Can't exactly float forever."
That surprised me. The James I remembered was more about coasting than effort. “Wow. What brought all that on?"
He hesitated, glancing down at his tray. “Alys helped," he admitted. “Being around her makes me want to be better, you know?"
I wasn't sure I did know, but I let it slide. My attention drifted back to the card in my hand. The gryphon's name, Kayt, was written in a fine, elegant script. “So what do I even do with this?" I asked, holding it up.
James looked at the card, then at me, his expression unreadable for a moment. “Go for it," he said finally.
“Go for it?" I frowned.
“Yeah." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Look, I hesitated with Alys, and that just made everything worse. If you're curious—or, you know, interested—why not see where it goes?"
I studied him, trying to gauge if he was serious. “How do you even… like… find feathers or scales attractive?"
James shrugged, a small, almost wistful smile tugging at his lips. “It's not just about looks. Alys… she's different. She makes me laugh, challenges me, and doesn't let me get away with my usual crap. She's… fun to be around. Kind of amazing, honestly."
I raised an eyebrow. “That's a lot of words for I'm into dragons.'"
James chuckled. “Well... There's that too."
I looked at the card again, turning it over in my fingers. “You really think I should call her?"
“Why not?" James said, leaning back again. “Worst-case scenario, it's a weird lunch. Best-case scenario… who knows?"
I hesitated, imagining all the ways this could go wrong. But James's confidence—and his clear contentment with his own interspecies relationship—gave me pause. “Alright," I said, tucking the card into my pocket. “Maybe I will."
James smirked. “Good. Just, uh, don't mention me or Alys on the first date. Gryphons aren't big fans of dragons."
“Noted."
As I grabbed a fry and stared off in thought, the sound of James's phone buzzing broke the moment. He glanced at the screen, then sighed.
“What is it?" I asked.
“Just Alys," he said, his tone fond but resigned. “She's probably wondering where I am."
“Already?" I teased. “You've been gone, what, an hour?"
James shrugged, his smirk widening. “Dragons are… intense. She worries. There was a whole thing with her and a friend of mine called Galia."
I shook my head, still trying to process all of this. “Man, your life is wild."
James laughed, standing up and grabbing his tray. “You have no idea."
As he walked toward the rubbish bins, I glanced around the restaurant, half-expecting something else bizarre to happen. The bird was back at her table, tearing into a fresh fish fillet with the same ritualistic precision. My hand drifted to my pocket, fingers brushing against the card.
Maybe he was onto something.
.....
Moving back home was like trying to jump into a river midstream—fast-paced, chaotic, and impossible to get your footing without being swept along. Everything about the city felt sharper, louder, and busier than I remembered. And then, just when I thought I was starting to settle in, there was her.
The gryphon.
Kayt.
She had been elegant, sharp, and seemed sure of herself, like someone who always knew she had the upper hand. And for reasons I still couldn't fully wrap my head around, she'd handed me her business card before striding off with the kind of confidence that felt more like a power move than politeness. The card was baffling in its simplicity: her name, Kayt, and a phone number. No flashy logo, no tagline, not even an email address. It was almost as if she didn't want to be contacted—but why bother giving it to me in the first place?
Responsible?
But James, ever the voice of reason—or mischief—had been quick to egg me on. “You should call her," he'd messaged when I asked later that week.
I'd laughed it off at the time, but his words stuck with me. So, one quiet evening, still surrounded by half-unpacked boxes, I gave in. Sitting on my couch with my phone in hand, I stared at the card for what felt like an eternity before finally dialling the number.
The phone rang twice before she picked up.
“Hello?"
Her voice was smooth and lilting, with an accent I couldn't place.
“Uh, hi," I said, awkwardness already creeping in. “This is Ethan. We met at McDonald's? You gave me your card."
There was a pause, the kind that felt long enough to be deliberate. “Ah. The responsible one," she said at last, and I could practically hear the smirk in her tone.
I laughed nervously. “I guess? Anyway, I thought I'd, uh… call. You know, since you gave me your number."
“Hmm," she hummed thoughtfully. “I wasn't sure you would. I figured your friend's mate might have said something."
I frowned. “James? No, he didn't say anything. Why would he?"
Her tone shifted, a touch more guarded now. “Dragons and gryphons don't… always see eye to eye. I assumed she might discourage you."
It took me a second to connect the dots. Alys. I didn't know much about her, but from what he'd said, she seemed… intense. Territorial, maybe? I could kind of see why Kayt might think she'd warn me off.
“Well, she didn't," I said plainly, then added, “and I doubt James would let her. He's pretty chill about stuff like this."
Kayt let out a soft laugh, the tension easing from her voice. “I see."
“So, about this card…" I began, holding it up even though she obviously couldn't see me. “What's with the business card? Feels a bit… corporate for a McDonald's encounter."
“You're curious," she said, her tone playful now.
“Yeah, a bit."
“Take me to dinner," she said smoothly, “and I'll tell you."
I blinked, caught completely off guard. “Dinner?"
“Yes, dinner," she replied, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Surely you eat."
I laughed despite myself. “Fair point. Do gryphons have any preferences?"
“Fish," she said immediately, her voice turning matter-of-fact. “Obviously."
“Obviously," I echoed, grinning. “How's tomorrow?"
“Tomorrow works," she said. “Text me the details."
“Will do," I replied, still grinning like an idiot. “Looking forward to it."
“As am I," she said, and then the line went dead.
I stared at my phone, still processing what had just happened. A gryphon had just agreed to dinner. My life was officially weird.
.....
Friday came quicker than I expected. I'd picked a small seafood place that was nice but not pretentious, hoping it would strike the right balance between casual and thoughtful. I was standing outside, adjusting my jacket for the hundredth time, when she arrived.
Kayt was impossible to miss. Her feathers gleamed in the evening light, a perfect mix of gold and tawny brown, and her sharp, golden eyes immediately locked onto me. She moved with an effortless grace, her talons clicking softly on the pavement as she approached.
“You're punctual," she said, her voice smooth and approving.
“Figured you'd appreciate it," I replied, trying to keep my tone light. “You look great, by the way."
Her beak curved slightly—her version of a smile, I assumed. “And you look… adequate."
I laughed, shaking my head. “I'll take it."
Inside, the restaurant was quiet but not empty. We were seated at a table in the corner, away from the main crowd. I caught a few curious glances from other diners—gryphons weren't exactly common around here, or anywhere—but she didn't seem to notice or care. She sat tall and poised, her tail curling neatly around the base of her chair as she picked up the menu.
“Do you always order fish?" I asked, glancing at my own menu.
She tilted her head lightly, a flicker of amusement in her sharp eyes. "Well, yes, but why wouldn't I? It's a seafood restaurant."
“Fair enough," I said, suppressing a cringe and forcing a grin.
We placed our orders—grilled salmon for her, fish and chips for me—and settled into a comfortable silence. Well, comfortable for her. I still felt like I was walking a tightrope.
“So," I said eventually, “are you going to tell me why you have business cards?"
She glanced at me, her golden eyes glinting with amusement. “I told you, didn't I? Dinner first."
“Right," I said, shaking my head. “You're really going to make me wait, huh?"
“Patience, human," she said, her tone teasing.
Our food arrived shortly after, and I couldn't help but watch as she meticulously dismantled her salmon. It was fascinating, the way her talons worked with almost surgical precision to strip the fish of its skin and bones. She caught me staring and tilted her head.
“Something wrong?" She asked.
“No, it's just… Do you always eat like that?"
“Like what?"
“Like you're dissecting your prey," I said, grinning.
She let out a soft snort. “Efficiency, Ethan. You should try it."
I laughed, shaking my head. “Fair enough."
As we ate, I couldn't help but blurt out the question that had been on my mind. “So, Kayt, what's the deal between dragons and gryphons? I've met a few dragons in passing, but I've never met a gryphon before. What's the story there?"
Her head tilted slightly, a small twitch of her feathers betraying some emotion I couldn't quite place. “That depends on who you ask."
“Okay…" I prompted, leaning forward. “What if I ask you?"
She was quiet for a moment, carefully extracting another bite of salmon. “Our history with dragons is complicated. Let's just say we've had our conflicts."
“Conflicts?" I echoed. “Like, serious ones?"
“Serious enough," she said vaguely, her eyes flicking to the side. “Some dragons don't see us as equals. Some see us as… competition. Others see us as food."
“Food?" I repeated, a little too loudly. A couple at a nearby table glanced our way, and I lowered my voice. “Seriously?"
She gave a small shrug, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “They were bigger and stronger, with armoured hide to go along with it all. Not all dragons, of course. But there was a time when gryphons and dragons fought over territory—and yes, a few saw us as prey. Let's just say it's a hard thing to forget."
“That's… intense," I said, suddenly feeling very out of my depth. “I didn't realise it was like that."
“It's not always," she said, her tone softening. “There are dragons I work with, dragons I respect. But it's very rare to see true friendship between us."
I nodded, filing that information away for later. It explained a lot about the tension I'd felt whenever dragons came up in conversation with her. “Well, for what it's worth, you don't have to worry about me. I'm not exactly friends with any dragons, either."
That earned me a sharp, amused look. “Good to know."
The rest of the meal passed in a surprisingly comfortable rhythm. Kayt was sharp and witty, her dry humour keeping me on my toes. By the time the plates were cleared, I'd almost forgotten about the business card.
Almost.
“So," I said, leaning back in my chair, “are you going to tell me now? About the card?"
She smirked, her sleek cheek feathers ruffling slightly. “Maybe next time."
“Next time?" I repeated, laughing. “You're evil."
“Thank you," she said, her tone entirely sincere.
I shook my head, still grinning. “You're lucky you're fun to be around."
“I know," she said, standing gracefully. “Come on, walk me out."
Outside, the crisp night air was a welcome relief. She turned to me, her bright eyes locking onto mine.
“This was enjoyable," she said softly. “Thank you."
“Anytime," I said, meaning it. “So… next time?"
She smirked again, spreading her wings. “We'll see."
And with that, she took off, leaving me standing there with a stupid grin on my face.
James is never going to let me hear the end of this.
.....
A week had passed since the dinner with Kayt, and I was still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I'd actually enjoyed myself. More than that, we'd been messaging and calling since then—nothing too deep, just casual conversations that somehow always left me grinning afterward.
It was weird, though. I wasn't entirely sure how I could find a gryphon attractive. Like, was it just her confidence? The way she spoke—smooth and sharp at the same time, always with that teasing edge? Or maybe it was the way she carried herself with such ease, like she owned whatever space she walked into. Whatever it was, I knew I was at least a little into her. That much was clear.
Still, the whole situation felt surreal, and I needed someone to talk to about it. Naturally, that someone ended up being James.
He told me to meet him outside his flat, but when I showed up, I found him standing by the curb with a dragon. A blue dragon. Alys, I assumed.
She was bigger than I'd expected—definitely bigger than Kayt. While Kayt's head only came up to my chest, Alys' was about level with James'. She was longer too, her body more robust and powerful-looking, with thick muscles rippling under her shimmering sapphire scales. Her midsection seemed a touch… rounder than I'd imagined, though it did nothing to diminish her sleek, predatory grace. Even her teeth, visible as she animatedly talked with him, were more pronounced, sharp, and unmistakably predatory.
She looked so deadly that what happened next completely caught me off guard.
As I approached, James turned to Alys, leaned forward, and kissed her. It wasn't just a quick peck, either—there was this weird intimacy to it, the way he tilted his head to meet the angle of her snout. Her lips, or whatever the equivalent was, pressed against his with an ease that suggested they'd done this before. It wasn't awkward, like you'd think kissing a dragon might be. If anything, it looked… natural.
I must've been staring, because when they broke apart, James caught me mid-gawk and grinned.
“Something to say?" He asked as he stepped back from Alys.
I scoffed, folding my arms. “I just… didn't expect to see that. The logistics are kind of fascinating."
He laughed, shaking his head. “Moron."
Alys tilted her head slightly, a faint crescent-shaped scar near the edge of one floppy ear—distinctly the mark of human teeth—was briefly visible. “Is this your friend?" She asked, her voice smooth but carrying an edge of curiosity - along with the same odd accent Kayt had.
“Yeah, this is Ethan," James said, gesturing toward me. “Ethan, meet Alys."
“Hi," I said, raising a hand awkwardly.
She nodded politely but didn't say much else, her gaze lingering on me for just a moment longer than was comfortable before she turned back to James.
“Do you need a ride later?" She asked him.
“Nah, I'll manage," James replied. “Thanks, though."
She nodded again, then glanced at me briefly. “Nice to meet you, Ethan."
“You too," I said quickly.
With that, she spread her wings and took off, the rush of air ruffling my hair as she soared into the sky. I watched her go, a bit dumbfounded, until James clapped me on the shoulder.
“You're staring again," he said plainly.
“Can you blame me?" I shot back. “You just made out with a dragon in broad daylight. Forgive me for being a little curious about how that works."
“It's not that complicated," he said, shrugging. “You just, like… angle it right."
“Yeah, I noticed," I said dryly. “You've clearly got it down to a science."
He rolled his eyes. “Alright, come on. What are we doing today?"
“I need a new PS5 controller," I said as we started walking. “Mine broke during the move. But, uh, I'm poor too, so I'm hoping you can point me to something cheap."
James laughed. “You're asking me for cheap tech? I've been living off minimum wage for years. I barely know what PS5 means. Closest I've got is a jailbroken PS4."
“You're such a liar," I said, nudging him. “Didn't you just tell me you're taking online courses now? What was it—cybersecurity?"
“Yeah, well, it doesn't mean I'm rolling in cash," he said, grinning. “But sure, let's go find you a controller. Maybe you can sell your dignity to pay for it."
“Bold talk from the guy kissing dragons," I shot back.
He just laughed, shaking his head.
As we turned the corner, I said, “Speaking of dragons, what's with that bite mark on her ear? It's pretty distinct."
James hesitated for a beat, then sighed. “Dragons mark each other during mating. It's instinct."
I raised an eyebrow. “But… why the ear?"
“Because it's soft," he explained. “Everywhere else is covered in scales so tough only another dragon—or a bullet maybe—could leave a mark. Her ear was the only spot my teeth could actually leave a dent."
I blinked, letting that sink in. “Huh. Okay, but wait—if they mark each other…" I paused, eyeing him. “Does that mean you've got a bite mark too?"
James shot me a sidelong glance, his grin turning a little sheepish. “Yep."
“And?" I prompted.
“And I'm not showing you," he said, smirking as he quickened his pace.
“Coward," I called after him, laughing.
We ended up at a small computer shop not far from the city centre. The place had that distinct smell of new plastic and cardboard, and the shelves were crammed with everything from the latest consoles to retro games and accessories.
I made a beeline for the controllers while James wandered off to check out the clearance section. Most of the controllers were way out of my price range, but I managed to find a used one that looked like it might hold together for a while.
“Found something?" James asked, reappearing at my side with a boxed game in hand.
“Yeah, this'll do," I said, holding up the controller.
“Nice. What're you playing these days?"
“Mostly The Witcher. Figured I'd start fresh since I'm stuck living like a hermit until payday."
He laughed. “Could be worse. You could be playing FIFA."
“I'd rather die," I said immediately, making him laugh harder.
As we headed to the counter, James glanced at me, his grin fading slightly. “So, how's… what's her name? Kate?"
I blinked, surprised he'd brought it up. “She's… good. We've been talking a bit. Messaging and stuff."
“And?" He prompted, raising an eyebrow.
“And… I don't know," I admitted. “She's cool. Funny, smart. I just—"
“Just what?"
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “I don't really know how this is supposed to work, you know? I mean, she's a gryphon. How does that even… make sense?"
James shrugged. “Does it have to?"
I frowned. “What do you mean?"
“I mean, who cares if it makes sense?" He said. “If you like talking to her, spending time with her, then why bother overthinking it?"
I hesitated, mulling that over as we paid and left the shop.
“You've got a point," I said eventually. “It's just… new territory for me."
“Yeah, well, welcome to the club," he said, grinning. “Take it from me—sometimes, you just have to roll with it."
“Easy for you to say. You've already got the whole interspecies romance thing figured out."
He laughed, slinging an arm over my shoulder as we walked. “Trust me—nobody's got it figured out. I'm just making it up as I go along."
“Comforting," I said dryly, though I couldn't help but smile.
We walked a little further in silence before a thought popped into my head, one I wasn't sure I wanted the answer to but couldn't ignore. “So, uh… has she ever… you know, eaten a gryphon?"
James stopped mid-step, his arm falling away from my shoulder as he glanced at me, his expression caught somewhere between amusement and discomfort. “What? W-Why would you ask something like that?"
“I mean, it's a fair question," I said, holding my hands up defensively. “You're dating a dragon. Gryphons are… you know… not exactly on the top of their friend list. And I like Kayt, so I kind of feel like I need to know if I'm introducing her to a potential… predator."
James winced, running a hand through his hair. “Honestly? I don't know for sure."
That answer made my stomach drop. “You don't know?"
“She's never said anything outright," he said, carefully choosing his words. “But Alys doesn't talk much about her past. I know she had it rough before we met, and dragons… they do what they need to survive. It wouldn't shock me if—"
“Wait," I interrupted, stepping in front of him. “Are you telling me there's a real chance she's eaten a gryphon before?"
James sighed, looking conflicted. “Maybe. But if she did, it wasn't out of cruelty. She's not like that now, Ethan. She wouldn't—"
“That's… not reassuring," I said, my voice rising slightly.
“Look," James said firmly, his gaze locking onto mine. “Alys isn't a monster. If she's ever done something like that, it was because she had to, not because she wanted to. She's had to fight for everything her whole life, and you have no idea what that's like for a dragon. Hell, I don't even fully understand it."
I took a step back, still processing his words. “So, you're saying you're not sure if she has or hasn't, but I'm just supposed to hope for the best if Kayt and Alys ever meet?"
“She's not going to hurt Kayt," James said with a shake of his head. “Alys isn't like that anymore. I'd stake my life on it."
“That's easy for you to say," I muttered. “You're not the one imagining what might happen if things go south."
James softened slightly, his shoulders relaxing as he met my gaze. “I get it, Ethan. I do. But you've got to trust me. Alys is a lot of things, but dangerous to those she cares about isn't one of them. Kayt would be fine."
His words hung between us for a moment before I finally nodded, though the knot in my stomach didn't go away. I wasn't entirely convinced, but for James's sake, I let it go.
We stepped into the checkout line at the gaming shop, my used PS5 controller tucked under my arm. James, as usual, couldn't just stand still. He wandered over to a nearby display and came back holding the strangest-looking controller I'd ever seen. It was bulky, with oversized buttons and a strange, curved design that looked impossible to use.
“What the hell is that?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Controller for paws," James said, holding it up for me to see. “Jarys broke his old one."
“Jarys?"
“Alys' little brother," James explained, getting back in line with me. “He's ten. Full of energy, like… too much energy. He got overexcited playing one of my games and crushed his old controller. Didn't even mean to. Just one of those things, you know?"
I snorted. “Bet that was fun to explain."
“Not really. He was devastated," James said, shaking his head. “It was a cheap second-hand one, though, so no harm done. But he's been sneaking glances at mine ever since, so I figured I'd grab him his own. Can't have him sulking every time Alys tells him to keep his claws off my stuff."
“Wow," I said, smirking. “Didn't take you for the type to spoil your girlfriend's family."
“She's not my girlfriend," James shot back immediately.
I frowned. “What, you're not together?"
“We are, but it's not like that," he said, glancing at me. “She's my mate. Big difference."
“Mate?"
“Yeah, mate," he repeated. “Dragons don't really do the whole dating thing like humans do. It's not casual for them. When they choose someone, it's for life."
I blinked, trying to process that. “For life?"
“Yeah," James said, shrugging like it wasn't a big deal. “It's not as scary as it sounds. It's just… commitment, you know? You don't get into something like that unless you're sure."
“Right," I said slowly. “So, what, you're telling me if things work out with Kayt, I'm stuck with her forever too?"
James let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Nah, gryphons aren't like that. They're… looser."
“Looser?" I repeated, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah, more independent," he said, a little too casually. “They don't do the whole 'mate-for-life' thing. They're more likely to bounce around, do their own thing. Not like dragons."
I didn't like the way he said it, but before I could respond, James caught himself. His expression shifted, and he glanced at me, looking uncomfortable.
“Sorry," he said after a beat, running a hand through his hair. “That came out wrong. I've been hanging around Samys too much."
I frowned. “Who's Samys?"
“Alys' cousin," he said, his tone a little heavier now. “She's, um, opinionated, to say the least. Doesn't like humans much, and she's even worse with gryphons. I guess some of her crap's been rubbing off on me."
I didn't say anything, just stood there as the line moved forward. James sighed, clearly feeling the weight of his own words.
“Look," he said, glancing at me again, “I didn't mean it. Gryphons aren't loose. Kate seems cool. I shouldn't have said that."
I nodded slowly, still processing. “It's alright. I mean, it's not, but… I get it. We've all got stuff we need to unlearn."
James gave me a small, almost sheepish smile. “Thanks. You're a better person than me; I'll tell you that much."
“High bar," I muttered, which earned me a chuckle.
The line moved again, and James set the paw-shaped controller down on the counter. I handed over my own, the budget-friendly one I'd managed to find, and we paid in silence.
“So… you're telling me this kid smashed his controller just by playing, What? Mario Kart?" I asked, raising an eyebrow as we walked towards the food court.
James laughed, shaking his head. “Hellpoint, actually, but yeah, it's kind of a thing with him. He's got these oversized talons for his age, and he's not great at controlling his strength yet. Poor kid looked devastated. I'm just trying to save my own controllers from the same fate."
“Big brother James to the rescue," I teased, nudging him with my elbow.
He rolled his eyes but grinned. “Look, it's either this or let Alys chew me out for not being more responsible around him. Kids are a handful."
We meandered through the mall, the chatter of shoppers and the faint hum of music playing over the PA system filling the space. It was one of those sprawling shopping centres where you could find anything from high-end tech to bargain-bin DVDs. My stomach growled audibly, reminding me I hadn't eaten since breakfast.
“Alright, I need food," I announced. “There's a pretzel stand over there. You in?"
James shrugged. “Sure, why not? Can't say no to shopping centre pretzels."
We joined the short line, the scent of buttery dough wafting over and making my mouth water. I studied the menu, already debating between a cinnamon-sugar twist and a jalapeño-cheese pretzel. Beside me, James was fiddling with his phone, the light from the screen casting a faint glow on his face.
"What's so interesting?" I asked.
"Just checking messages," he said without looking up. "Alys has been…" He trailed off as his phone buzzed madly in his hand. His expression shifted from casual cheer to an oddly nervous frown. "Speak of the dragon."
He tapped the screen and turned away slightly. "Hey, Alys. What's up?" Out of respect for my friend, I shuffled a half foot away, pretending to study the pretzel menu. After some deliberation, I settled on a cinnamon-sugar twist, my go-to comfort snack.
"H-Heh, so an extra-large omelette then? Uh, Ethan?" I glanced back at him. His voice was strained, like he was trying to mask how tense he was. "Get me the same, please. Alys is yelling at me about eggs."
He let out a weak laugh, but something his girlfriend said made his shoulders stiffen.
I made an okay sign and, after taking the ten-pound note he handed over, went to place the order. Over my shoulder, I could hear his voice rising and falling, shaky and uncertain. His complexion paled as he stammered into the phone.
"R-Right… Uh, okay, could—um… three? You sure that—"
"I have eyes, James!"
Her voice blasted through his phone's cheap speakers, sharp and unforgiving. "Get back here NOW."
"Yeah, o-okay… I'll be back home soon," James muttered, wincing at every syllable. His hands trembled slightly as he ended the call and slid the phone into his coat pocket.
"You good, man?" I asked after a beat. He didn't respond immediately. I grabbed both of our pretzels when they were ready and nudged one into his hands. "That sounded… rough."
"She, uh, she's just going through some things, but…" He stared down at his pretzel, gripping it tightly enough to crush the paper wrapping. "I-I've got to go. I'll talk to you later, alright?"
"James?"
Without answering, he turned and walked away, his pace quick but his posture heavy. I stood there for a moment, debating whether to follow him, but I let it go. Whatever was going on, it was clearly beyond me.
I took a bite of my pretzel, wincing as the molten sugar scorched my tongue. Still, I couldn't help wondering what could have shaken him up so badly...
.....
The idea of seeing Kayt again had me feeling… something. Excited? Nervous? Probably a mix of both. She'd agreed to meet up for dinner, and this time, I suggested a place with a little more flair. If she didn't like it, I'd blame James for his roll with it advice.
The restaurant was an upscale steakhouse with a reputation for its seafood. I arrived early and fidgeted with my phone at the bar while I waited. Kayt made her entrance like she owned the place, talons clicking sharply on the marble floor. Heads turned—not because she was a gryphon, though that was unusual enough—but because of the way she carried herself. She wore confidence like a tailored suit, and her sleek feathers shimmered under the dim light.
“You clean up well," I said as she approached.
She tilted her head, her beak curving in that almost-smile. “You're improving. That's almost a compliment."
I chuckled and gestured toward our table. “Shall we?"
We were seated in a corner booth that offered some privacy, though I noticed a few curious glances from other diners. Kayt didn't seem to care. She glanced at the menu and ordered pan-seared halibut with the ease of someone who'd been doing this for years.
“How's your day been?" I asked, trying to sound casual as I settled into my seat.
“Busy," she said with a sigh, her wings rustling slightly. “Meetings, deadlines, the usual chaos."
“Right. And what chaos do you manage, exactly?" I asked, leaning forward. “You never did tell me what you do."
She hesitated, her golden eyes flicking to me before she responded. “Mergers and acquisitions."
I blinked, caught off guard. “Wait—you're in finance?"
“Yes," she said simply, her tone giving nothing away. “I specialise in evaluating businesses for potential acquisition or merger opportunities. I assess their value, negotiate terms, and ensure a smooth transition. It's demanding, but I enjoy it."
“Wow," I said, genuinely impressed. “That's… intense. I mean, how long have you been doing that?"
“Four years," she replied.
I paused, doing the math. “You've only been here for four years, though, right? On Earth, I mean?"
“Yes. Same as the other mythic creatures." Her beak curved slightly. “But I was hired almost immediately after arriving. Turns out we gryphons have a knack for appraising value, understanding trends, and negotiating deals. Humans seemed eager to capitalise on that."
“That's one way to make an entrance," I said, grinning. “So, what made you get into finance specifically?"
Her feathers ruffled faintly, and she glanced away. “The truth?"
“Always."
She hesitated, then leaned forward slightly, her voice softer now. “When I arrived here, I saw what money could buy. Homes, cars, art, power—all of it. Gryphons, like dragons, are drawn to wealth and status, but we didn't have anything like this back in our world. Here, I realised I could have all of it. And I wanted it."
I nodded slowly, taking that in. “So, you just… decided to go for it?"
“Decided?" She repeated, her tone almost amused. “No. I hunted it."
The intensity in her eyes sent a shiver down my spine—not fear, exactly, but awe. This wasn't just ambition; it was instinct, something deep and primal. And yet, as she spoke, there was a hint of vulnerability beneath her confidence, a sense that she was still finding her place in this strange, human-dominated world.
Our food arrived, and the conversation shifted to lighter topics. The gryphon had a dry, cutting sense of humour that kept me on my toes, and by the time we'd finished eating, I realised I was having fun. More than that, I was fascinated by her—by the way she navigated her dual identity as a gryphon and some high-powered professional.
As we left the restaurant, walking together under the glow of streetlights, Kayt slowed her pace. Her talons clicked softly against the pavement, and she glanced at me, her sharp golden eyes unusually hesitant.
“There's something I should tell you," she said, her voice quieter than usual.
“What's up?" I asked, turning to face her.
She paused, her wings shifting slightly as if she were bracing herself. “The business card. The day at the fast food place. I didn't give it to you because I thought you were responsible."
I frowned, confused. “Then why did you—?"
“Because I thought you were… cute," she admitted, her beak curving in an almost-shy smile. “I didn't write it down at first because I was flustered. Gryphons don't exactly have much experience with… this... subtlety, I mean."
I stared at her, stunned. The confident, razor-sharp Kayt was suddenly vulnerable, and it was somehow both endearing and completely unexpected.
“Well," I said after a beat, grinning, “if it makes you feel any better, I've been flustered since the moment you handed me that card."
She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “I doubt that."
“Seriously," I said, stepping a little closer. “You've got this whole intimidating, untouchable vibe going on. It's hard not to be flustered around you."
She tilted her head, studying me for a moment. “You're strange," she said finally, but there was warmth in her voice.
“I'll take it," I replied with a grin.
The walk back to the bar was full of easy banter, the kind that only happens when you've had just enough to drink to feel bold but not enough to regret it. Kayt, it turned out, had a sharp tongue when she let her guard down, and I was loving every second of it.
“So, mergers and acquisitions," I said, swirling the last of my drink in its glass. “Do you just swoop into boardrooms and scare CEOs into selling?"
She smirked, golden eyes glinting. “Not quite. But intimidation has its place."
“I knew it," I said, pointing at her. “You're weaponising the whole gryphon mystique."
“Of course I am," she replied smoothly, taking a sip of her wine. “Wouldn't you?"
I laughed, shaking my head. “I don't think I'd make a very intimidating gryphon."
“True," she said, tilting her glass toward me. “You'd make a better… owl, maybe. All wide-eyed curiosity."
“An owl?" I repeated, feigning offense. “Not even an eagle or a hawk?"
Her beak curved into an almost-grin. “No, you're definitely an owl. But a cute one."
I felt my face heat up at the word “cute," but I played it off with a grin. “I'll take it."
The conversation drifted as the drinks flowed, and by the time we stepped outside again, the buzz in my head made the city lights seem brighter, the air a little warmer. Kayt walked a few steps ahead of me, her tail flicking in a way I couldn't help but notice.
“You're quiet all of a sudden," she said, glancing back at me.
“Just thinking," I said.
“About what?"
I hesitated, then shrugged. “About how surreal this all is."
She stopped and turned to face me, her bright eyes narrowing slightly. “Is that a bad thing?"
“No," I said quickly. “Just… different. In a good way."
Her gaze softened, and she tilted her head, a playful look crossing her face. “Different in a good way," she repeated, her tone almost teasing. “I'll take it."
I chuckled, shaking my head. “Touché."
She studied me for a moment longer, then flicked her wings slightly, as if shaking off some invisible weight. “Want to see something even more different?"
I blinked, confused. “What do you mean?"
“My nest," she said casually, but there was a flicker of something in her tone—nervousness, maybe? “Unless you're too tired."
Her nest. The implications of her words hit me like a freight train. Was she suggesting…?
“Uh…" I began, stammering like an idiot. “Your… nest?"
Her feathers fluffed slightly, and she let out a soft laugh. “Relax, Ethan. It's not as scandalous as it sounds." She paused, then added, her voice dipping just enough to make my heart skip a beat, “Unless you want it to be..."
I swallowed hard, the mix of nerves and curiosity churning in my chest. “Sure," I said finally, trying to sound more confident than I felt. “I'd, uh, love to see it."
Her beak curved again in that sly almost-smile, and she turned, gesturing with a flick of her lion-like tail for me to follow. “Come on, then."
The walk to her place was a blur of city lights and muted conversation, my mind racing the entire time. By the time we arrived at her building—a sleek, modern high-rise—I was equal parts curious and nervous.
The elevator ride was quiet, save for the faint hum of the machinery. Kayt stood beside me, her posture relaxed but her eyes glinting with amusement, as if she could sense my anticipation. When the doors opened, she led me down a hallway and unlocked the door to her apartment.
“Welcome to my nest," she said, stepping inside and gesturing for me to follow.
The first thing I noticed was the sheer size of the place. The open-concept living space had high ceilings and massive windows that offered a stunning view of the city. But what really caught my attention was the nest itself, situated in the corner of the room.
It wasn't what I'd expected. Instead of a pile of sticks or straw, it was an enormous, custom-built platform covered in layers of plush blankets, pillows, and what looked like velvet-lined cushions. The whole thing looked absurdly comfortable, like something out of a luxury furniture catalogue.
“Wow," I said, stepping closer. “This is… not what I was expecting."
Kayt chuckled, closing the door behind us. “What were you expecting? Twigs and hay?"
“Maybe a little," I admitted, grinning sheepishly.
She rolled her eyes and walked over to the nest, hopping up onto it with an effortless grace. “This is Earth," she said, settling onto the cushions. “We adapt. Besides, I'm not sleeping on sticks when I can have this."
I hesitated for a moment, then stepped closer, eyeing the nest nervously. “Can I…?"
“Of course," she said, patting the space beside her. “It's not a real nest without company."
I climbed up, sinking into the cushions. The nest was even more comfortable than it looked, and I let out a soft laugh. “Okay, this is ridiculous. You live like royalty."
“Only the best," she said, her voice laced with humour. She stretched her wings slightly, then folded them again, her gaze softening as she looked at me. “So? What do you think?"
I glanced around, taking it all in. The city lights, the luxurious nest, and the gryphon sitting beside me, her feathers glowing faintly in the dim light. “I think," I said slowly, “that you're full of surprises."
Kayt laughed softly, and for the first time that night, I saw a flicker of something unguarded in her golden eyes. The sharp edges of her confidence softened, revealing a side of her I hadn't expected.
“You're not so bad yourself, owl boy," she said, her beak curving into a teasing smile.
“Glad to hear it," I replied, leaning back against the plush cushions. The nest's absurd comfort made it harder to think straight, and I wondered—not for the first time—how I'd ended up here. A gryphon's nest, a city skyline glowing through the windows, and a pair of golden eyes watching me with a mix of amusement and curiosity.
Her gaze lingered, her feathers ruffling faintly as if she were debating something. Then, in a move so smooth it felt almost rehearsed, she shifted closer, her talons lightly brushing the cushion beside me.
“You've been staring at me all night," she said, her voice dipping just enough to make my pulse quicken.
“Can you blame me?" I replied, my tone light but my heart racing.
“No," she said simply, her voice soft now.
The space between us disappeared in a heartbeat. Her beak met my lips, cool and smooth, the sharp edges framing the kiss in a way I'd never imagined. It wasn't like kissing someone with lips—there was no soft give—but her movements carried a surprising delicacy. She angled her head slightly, the sharp curve of her beak slipping against my mouth with a careful, teasing pressure.
I hesitated, unsure how to respond, then remembered the way James had tilted his head with Alys. Tentatively, I mirrored the motion, angling my face to meet hers better. It worked. Her beak caught the corner of my mouth with a feather-light graze before pressing fully against me, her touch growing more confident as if she'd been waiting for me to figure it out.
The strangeness of it evaporated as my hand slid to the back of her neck, fingers threading through her silky feathers. She responded instantly, a low, resonant hum rising from her throat as she leaned into me, her beak gliding against my lips with a rhythm that felt both foreign and breathtakingly intimate.
Her wings shifted, their edges brushing lightly against my arm. I let myself fall deeper into the kiss, into the warmth of her feathers and the quiet, deliberate way she drew me in.
When she finally pulled back, her golden eyes gleamed with a heat that left my heart racing.
“Well," I said, my voice a little unsteady, “that was… unexpected."
Her beak curved into that playful, knowing smile. “Was it?" she asked, her voice soft but edged with mischief.
“Not… entirely," I admitted, grinning despite myself.
Kayt leaned back slightly, her gaze turning contemplative. “You know, Ethan… gryphons aren't exactly shy when it comes to what we want."
I blinked, my cheeks heating at the implication in her tone. “Oh?"
She chuckled, a low, almost purring sound. “Stay the night," she said simply, her tail curling lazily behind her.
The words hung in the air, and for a moment, all I could do was stare at her. The confidence in her posture, the warmth in her voice, and the undeniable chemistry between us—it all made the decision feel… obvious.
“Alright," I said, my voice steady despite the nervous energy buzzing in my chest. “I'd like that."
Her beak curved into a satisfied smile, and she shifted closer, her feathers brushing against my arm. “Good," she said, her voice soft and inviting. “Because I wasn't planning on letting you leave."
The city lights glowed outside the window, but my world had narrowed to the warmth of her feathers and the promise in her golden eyes.
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