Page 18 of Stolen By the Gargoyle
I couldn’t speak. Notbecause I didn’t want to, but because I didn’t know what I could say to that confession. It was spoken like something reserved for lovers. Not me. Not us. Not in this situation. But he’d said it anyway, with such raw honesty and emotion, that my brain found processing it to be difficult.
He wanted me from the moment he saw me. He’d said that before, but it had been so hard to imagine how much he’d actually meant it. And things just… became clear somehow in that moment.
I pictured his life the way he described it, tethered to an Underworld where nothing but demons and lost souls and pain existed. And underneath all that, there was the desire for something you’d never known. I’d had the same desire, too.
I clung to the idea of my apartment and my emotional support material things, but there was always an ache in my belly thatdesired and wanted adventure and a fuller life I never dared take for myself.
But he’d swept me away from all that. I hadn’t even been given the chance to find the bravery in making that decision for myself.
And the worst part was, he didn’t understand it, because I couldn’t explain it to him. I wasn’t sure I wanted to, because if this rock man had a heart, I was afraid to be the one to break it.
“Tell me about your brothers.” I finally found my voice. It was rubbed raw after what felt like hours of crying.
I was attuned to every move he made; from the way he seemed to curl onto himself, like he wanted to make himself smaller and less intimidating, to the way his entire body relaxed at the question, unfurling his wings and spreading them across the ground behind him.
A small ghost of a smile touched his mouth.
“Xavir and Qanek,” he supplied. “They are…” He paused, as if he couldn’t quite find the words to describe what his brothers were like. Or like no one had ever asked him that question before and he’d never actually had to contemplate it. Maybe that was the case. If he’d been born from pain and sadness like he said, then they hadn’t known something as simple as this. Hadn’t had to explain themselves. They just… were.
What a sad existence, I mused.
“Xavir is silent,” he finally said. “Like shadows. He speaks only when necessary. He masters over the darkness like our Lord Kane, the King of Torture.”
Alrighty then. That was a weird flex to make, but it made sense in the context of their upbringing.
“Qanek is quick to anger and masters the magic of hell with an expert hand. Like me, my brothers have gone to seek their wives and mates, for they crave like I do.”
That meant there were likely two other people out there being stalked by gargoyles or already in their clutches.
There was something comforting and scary knowing I probably wasn’t the only one. For a fleeting second, I wondered what type of people his brothers liked, and if I’d have anything in common with them.
I scratched that away, though. It wouldn’t do to dwell on that right now. It wasn’t like we would be family or anything.
“I have brothers, too,” I whispered. I pretended not to notice the way his eyes seemed to shine at this little bit of information I was sharing about myself. “Two of them. And a sister.” I leaned back, pulling the covers with me in the little cocoon he’d built for the person he’d imagined I’d be. “I have a lot of cousins, too. I come from a big family.”
He seemed to scoot forward, beguiled by my every word.
“My brothers work at their own security company,” I said, just picturing how beside themselves they must have been at that very moment.
The fact that they didn’t know where I was and they were probably turning over every stone they could to find me. But it would be nearly impossible to find me, probably even to get here.
And I wouldn’t have wanted them here anyway. They’d hate it, I was sure.
“They protect people,” I went on. “My sister is a florist. She makes the prettiest arrangements you’ve ever seen.” Tears pricked at my eyes for the life I suddenly felt I would no longer have.
Nazzar scooted even closer to me and I felt his hands slip beneath the blanket, those thick claws lightly grazing the skin of my fingertips.
“And you?” he asked.
I blinked and unbidden, a few tears fell. “Me?”
This time I didn’t imagine the feel of his hands on mine. “What did you do?”
I smiled, a soft and sad thing. “I was an event planner.”
“What is that?”
“It means when people wanted parties or gatherings, they hired me to oversee and organize them so they didn’t have to.”
