Page 9 of Stolen By the Gargoyle
“You are already beautiful,” he whispered. “Do not ever doubt that.”
“Oh.”
I hadn’t expected that. But even the warmth his statement caused couldn’t squelch the panic that had already taken root inside me. Was this flattery just a way of concealing something darker? I had no way of knowing, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to find out.
“Regardless, I would like to do so.”
He nodded.
“I’ll need you to go to the far side of the wall and turn around so I can get presentable.”
His body tensed, like he was prepared to argue or say no.
“We cannot mate if you don’t let me,” I urged, the panic clawing its way up my throat.
It was a low blow, using what I knew he desperately wanted against him. But it worked because he shot up and shuffled to the furthest side of the cave, the side shrouded in the most darkness, and faced the rocky wall.
Without him so close, I could finally breathe. Then, I dug through the pile of blankets he had piled into the nest and found one I could tie around my waist like a skirt.
I surveyed it with a few swishes of my thick waist. When the knot didn’t come undone and it didn’t completely restrict my range of movement on my legs, I let out a breath of relief and turned.
He was still facing the wall, shifting impatiently from one foot to another.
I tried not to stare at his muscled backside, but it was hard not to when he was carved like that. His wings twitched open wide before snapping tightly together. Beneath the loincloth, the hem of which brushed the backs of his thighs, a long tail protruded. Atail. With a pointed, black tip, like an arrow.
A shiver trembled down my body.
“I’m going to step away to fix my hair,” I explained quietly. “And to clean up.” The last thing I needed was for him listening intently on what I planned on doing. I needed to be quiet, stealthy. But mostly, I needed him to not turn around.
He grumbled with obvious displeasure, but didn’t turn. “Fine,” he conceded. “Do not go far, little wife.”
The words felt odd, but I just hummed and slowly began stepping towards the tunnel that I was hoping led towards the mouth of the cave.
I only had one opportunity, and I prayed it would work.
On quiet footsteps, I moved, walking backwards with my eyes trained on the gargoyle, praying I didn’t trip and fall. I felt the darkness begin to swallow me up, and it wasn’t until I lost sight of him completely, that I finally turned and fled.
My entire body feltthings it had never felt before. It came alive, like a volcano in the Underworld that released souls into the ether. I did not know if I had a soul, but I felt weightless regardless of the knowledge. I felt it lifting, my heart thumping like a beat of a war drum inside the cavern of my chest. Something in me transcended into a sensation far greater than I could have ever imagined to live through.
My mate.
My wife.
I wanted nothing more than to tell her to forego her blasted human tradition of readying herself for our mating. I’d tasted her already, anyway. I wanted nothing more than to bury my face back between those luscious thighs and feel them squeezing my head like she meant to drown me in her essence.
I would have welcomed death.
I did not care. She was beautiful and the fuss was unnecessary. There was quite surely no possible way she could look better than now, but I would grant her her traditions, like she would grant me mine.
And when she was ready for me, oh, but I wouldfeast.
My tongue lolled from the side of my mouth, drool dripping from the corners of my lips. The taste of her still lingered in me, my body burned and imprinted with the memory of the way she moved against me like an ocean seeking sand.
I was a starving creature, eager for her.
My wings flared wide, and I strained to hear my wife. She was silent, far quieter than she’d been before. I’d heard the light tread of her feet, before I’d lost myself in the imaginings of all the ways I would make her scream my name and make her mine.
Now, I could barely hear her breathing.
