Page 31 of Stolen By the Gargoyle
“Woah.” My mouth dropped open at the sight before me.
A house. A big, two story house with curving steps that led up to a set of wide, double doors. It was a beachside, Mexican style house with walls that were painted in a bright rose pink and a thatched roof shaded by enormous palm trees. The doors were painted white, the windows circular and thrown open. There was even a garden with roses and shrubbery that must have been alive with magic, because there was no way they would have survived this heat…
“Come,” Nazzar ordered, giving me a gentle nudge towards the house. My knees nearly buckled beneath me, but I managed to follow him up the steps.
Once there, I noticed a demon standing by the front door and I froze.
The creature was short and rounded, with a lumpy nose and small horns that flickered like a lighter. It wore a pink apron with dozens of little hearts.
“This is Forstoff,” Nazzar introduced. “He is here to attend to anything you may need.”
Then the demon–Forstoff–bowed low at the waist and replied in a chittering, demonic language.
“That will be all, Forstoff,” Nazzar dismissed him, and Forstoff walked away.
“He was wearing an apron with hearts.”
“Indeed,” Nazzar murmured.
“Nazzar, what is this?” My arms flailed around. “I’m so confused.”
Instead of answering, he took my hand in his and pulled me into the house. The inside was even better than the outside. Bright colors and tile covered every inch in an eccentric combination that I found myself falling in love with.
It was fully furnished, with couches and chairs, plant holders and golden chandeliers. The deeper Nazzar pulled me through the rooms, the more I choked on my own wonder. Everything was a dream, from the thick wood of the dining room table, to the kitchen, and the bathroom!
“Is that a jacuzzi?!”
Nazzar didn’t respond. He walked confidently towards the bedroom, showing off the king sized bed… No, that wasn’t a king size. That was bigger. It was huge, big enough to fit Nazzar’s frame.
And the place had electricity!
“Nazzar, what is this?” I finally turned to him, tilting my head up to meet his hopeful gaze.
“You told me you had needs,” he began. “When I took you, I disregarded your needs and wants. I have been in the Underworld for so long, I did not realize just how different we were, despite having followed you for many days.” He ate the space between us, reaching for my hands. “Your unhappiness broke something in me.” He pushed a curl behind my ear. Gentle–always so gentle. “My brothers and I learned loneliness and we sought brides to stave it. Our traditions are to prove thatwe can provide and protect, and it fills me with great shame to know that I harmed you instead. So I came back and created this for you, to gift you your comforts and favorite things. I went to the human realm to steal my bride, and when I found you, you stole my heart. I vowed months ago that I would go back to you and make you my wife. So here I am, Dolores.” He knelt before me, but even kneeling, we were hardly at eye level. Still, my heart beat an erratic rhythm at the sight, and what it meant. “If you forgive my transgressions and find me worthy of you now, would you let me steal you? Would you let me make you my wife?”
I tore up from the inside. Every single cell, every molecule, every part of my being disintegrated at the power of raw honesty in his voice. At all the things he said. So that was why he’d stayed away so long. He said he wanted to heal the harm he’d done and had made good on his promises. He’d built something for me, with my favorite things and in my favorite colors, because he’d listened. Nothing had ever felt so shattering before, and I knew I needed to reach out and grasp it before it slipped through the cracks of my fingers.
My hands lifted slowly to cup his face and slide over the rough edges of his contours. They slid up, to the base of his horns, and wrapped tightly around him.
Nazzar groaned, jerking forward as the breath left his body. Magic flared purple beneath his skin.
“Nazzar,” I whispered. “I forgive you,” I told him, sliding my palms up and down his horns slowly. “The truth is, I forgave you a long time ago.” I released his horns and he groaned, the sound one of protest, and I tapped his chin, tilting his gaze up to mine. “And my answer is yes, Nazzar. Yes, I will be your wife.”
The words snapped somethingwithin Nazzar. All the tension between us that had pulled taut like a rope suddenly severed and we could just… let go. There was only the briefest second of relief, smoothing over his features, only the slightest lowering of his head where his forehead dipped and met the tops of my breasts.
And then his arms wrapped around my waist, caging me into the solid embrace of his arms. The floor disappeared from beneath my feet. My stomach swooped low, my entire body tingling as he took flight, rushing us towards the bed.
My back met the mattress, a perfect cushion that contrasted against the heavier weight of him coming down on my body. Long, black tresses of hair fell over his shoulders, curtaining our faces, dimming the brightness to shades of black, gray, and purple.
Inhaling the embers from a campfire had never felt this sweet. Every breath pulled fire into my lungs, torching the blood that flowed through my veins until I was too hot and too high, craving the whisper of his touch.
“Nazzar.” It was a groan of pure, raw need.
“Wife,” he whispered back. And that single word was like a puzzle clicking into place, the missing part of me finally settling and making me whole. “I should like to kiss you now and feast from your body.”
His chest glowed a purple light and a rumble went through him, vibrating over every inch of me.
“Then do it,” I dared. “Do it. Don’t make me–”
