Page 67 of The Gargoyle and the Songbird

We clink our glasses together once more, and I notice that Mariah sets hers down without taking a sip. I hope that isn’t an indication of a lack of faith in me.

The thought drains from my mind as Ecco’s hand lands on my knee under the table, her teasing touch a reminder of our activities in bed less than an hour ago.

I attempt to glare at her but the effect is greatly diminished by her giggle in response.

Our food arrives, and I let Mariah and Gruna grill me about my childhood and about gargoyle powers for the rest of our brunch, trying my hardest to focus on the conversation instead of Ecco’s hand inching its way up my leg. And as we say our goodbyes and step out into the chilly air, a sense of contentment settles deep in my bones.

Ecco slips her hand into mine, her fingers interlacing with my own in a gesture that is as natural as breathing.

“I want to show you one of my favorite places,” she says, anticipation written across her features.

I nod, eager to see anything important to Ecco. “Lead the way.”

We walk up the block back towards Elderberry Falls’ town square, the snow crunching beneath our boots. Then we round the bend, passing the frozen fountains at the town’s center, and I find myself standing before a storefront that seems to pulse with an ancient, untamed magic.

“The Spellbound Bookstore,” Ecco announces, her voice hushed with reverence.

I remember her pointing this place out when we first arrived. We step inside and the quaint bell above the door rings out a welcome. I’m immediately enveloped by the scent of old parchment and leather.

The interior is a labyrinth of towering shelves, endless rows that seem to stretch on into infinity. It’s a space that defies logic, the outside facade belying the sheer vastness within. Everywhere I look, books beckon with their worn spines and faded titles, each one boasting its own kind of magic, a portal to another world.

Ecco leads me deeper into the stacks, her fingers trailing along the spines of the books. She seems to come alive in this space, her love of stories and the written word shining through in every gesture.

“This place is incredible,” I murmur, my eyes trying to take in the sheer scope of it all. We pass a dusty piano stacked with piles of sheet music, and a row of leather-bound titles that look like first editions, a huge stuffed crow on the shelf next to them seeming to guard them from sticky fingers.

There seriously must be some enchantment at work—there’s no way all these books fit into the building I saw from the outside.

Ecco nods. “It’s always been a sanctuary for me. A place where I can lose myself in stories, and forget about the outside world for a while.”

As we wander past the winding shelves, I can’t help but marvel at the change in Ecco. Gone is the bubbly, effervescent pop star, replaced by a woman who seems to glow with a quiet inner strength. It’s a side of her she doesn’t show often, and I find myself drawn to it like a moth to a flame.

In a secluded corner of the bookstore, nestled between towering stacks of colorful cookbooks, Ecco turns to face me. The warm glow of the dusty window beside us bathes her in a golden light, setting her violet eyes ablaze.

“I’ve always wanted to do this,” she murmurs, her voice low and husky.

Before I can ask what she means, she’s rising up on her toes, pulling me down into a fierce kiss that sets my blood on fire.

I groan into her mouth as her hands fist in my shirt, tugging me closer until there’s no space left between us. My own hands come up to tangle in her silky blue hair, angling her head to deepen the kiss.

In this moment, I’m like a teenager again, lovestruck and eager. Ecco’s touch awakens something animalistic inside me, a hunger I’ve never felt before.

Even as I surrender to the heat of her kiss, images rise in my mind, solid as memories: a future where moments like this are the norm, where I wake up every morning with Ecco in my arms and fall asleep each night with her head on my chest.

I picture lazy Sundays spent exploring every inch of her body, stolen kisses in hidden corners of every enchanted business in this town, travels together to distant places when Ecco goes on tour.

It’s a life I never dared to dream of before, a future that seems both tantalizingly close and impossibly far away.

Because as much as I want to give in to this feeling, to let myself fall headfirst into the promise of a life with Ecco, I know that I have a duty to my clan.

I can’t just abandon my responsibilities, no matter how tempting the alternative might be.

Ecco’s hands slip beneath the hem of my shirt, her nails raking deliciously across the sensitive skin of my lower back, and I can’t help but wonder if there might be a way to have both.

A few hours later,we head back to the inn, carrying bags of books that Ecco insisted on purchasing, despite having a pile in her luggage that she hasn’t touched yet.

“You can never have enough books,” she told me very seriously.

Ecco spins around in the snow as we walk, catching snowflakes on her tongue. She only stops when the icy wind picks up again, sending her huddling into me for warmth. I curl an arm around her to block the wind.

---