Page 56 of The Gargoyle and the Songbird

The bustling tavern fades away as I sink into myself, recognizing the truth in what my mother has shared. I’ve spent so long tempering my siren heritage, so long fearing the potential for darkness and manipulation that lurks within my own soul.

But what if Deandra is right?

What if there’s more to my magic, possibilities I’ve barely imagined?

As I look at my mother, I feel a rush of gratitude.

“Thank you,” I say slowly. “Thank you for being real and honest with me. I won’t lie and say that I’ve forgiven everything, that I’m ready to change our relationship overnight, but… I appreciate you telling me this, and I’d like to talk to you more about it, once I’ve had a chance to process.”

Deandra’s eyes shine, a tentative smile curving her lips. “I’d like that too, Ecco. More than anything.”

The walkback to the inn is quiet as I attempt to sort through everything I’ve just heard. Graeme’s presence beside me is a steady comfort.

Can I trust Deandra? Trust myself, and the powers inside of me?

What did she mean about our powers being good for more than just seduction? Ever since gaining control, I’ve only ever let the tiniest sliver of magic seep into my music, just a little gentle overlay of magic to help listeners feel at ease, to lose themselves in the moment.

What else might I be capable of, if I go deeper?

Lost in thought, I barely register our arrival at the Moonflower Inn. It’s only when the familiar scent of woodsmokeand cinnamon envelops me, the bustling sounds of guests in the lobby, that I blink, pulling myself back to the present.

Graeme gently guides me back toward our suite, his hand gently circling my wrist. Once we’re in our rooms, he turns to face me, his pale blue eyes searching my face.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his gruff voice laced with a tenderness that makes my heart ache. “I know your relationship with your mom is… complicated. Whatever went down at Orc’s Anvil seemed intense.”

I nod, any answer I could give sticking in my throat. Instead of speaking, I step forward, wrapping my arms around Graeme’s torso and laying my head against his broad chest.

He stiffens, his muscles tensing beneath my touch. But then, slowly, he relaxes, his strong arms coming up to encircle me, his chin resting gently atop my head.

Safe, I think again, a wave of contentment washing over me.

And then the surrounding air seems to shift, the gentle tenderness giving way to a simmering heat that skitters along my skin every place our bodies touch.

Graeme’s hands glide up my back, his touch sending sparks of electricity through my veins. I tilt my head back, my lips finding his in a kiss that starts off soft and sweet, but quickly turns hungry, desperate.

I press closer, molding my body against his, reveling in the feel of his hard planes and angles against my curves. Graeme’s hands roam my body, leaving trails of heat in their wake. A low groan escapes him as I nip at his bottom lip, my fingers tangling in his hair.

I want to stop thinking, to let the world fall away, lose myself in the intoxicating rush of his touch.

Breaking the kiss, I pull back just enough to meet Graeme’s gaze.

His eyes are dark with want, his pupils wide. My chest heaves as I struggle to catch my breath.

“Graeme,” I breathe, my voice low and husky, barely recognizable to my own ears. “I need you. I need to feel you, all of you. Please. I don’t want to think.”

Graeme’s eyes flash at my words, his hands tightening on my hips. “Then don’t think,” he rumbles, his voice a deep growl that resonates through my body. “Strip for me, Ecco.”

21

ECCO

My breath catches at his command, a thrill racing through me at the dominance in his tone.

Without a word, I step back, my fingers trembling slightly as I reach for the buttons of my blouse. One by one, I undo them, revealing my skin. Graeme’s gaze is a physical weight, scorching my flesh as he watches me disrobe.

The blouse falls to the floor in a whisper of fabric. I reach behind me, unclasping my bra and letting it slide down my arms. Graeme’s eyes darken, his jaw clenching as he takes in the sight of my bare breasts.

“Gods, you’re sexy,” he murmurs.

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