Page 36 of Fated to the Gargoyle

He scoops me clean off the sidewalk into his arms, and I decide that answer is acceptable.

“Excuse me. I said something to you before.” A woman marches up to us, pointing at Soren, already digging in her purse. She pulls out a measuring tape. “If your mate won’t get you some pants, I will. Put her down so I can get your measurements.”

I laugh so hard I grab his arm. Soren turns from her to me and back, and that makes it funnier.

“I took care of it, ma’am,” I manage. “Pants are made. I was just waiting for him to wake up.”

The woman huffs, drops the tape back in her purse, and marches off down the sidewalk.

Soren presses his forehead to mine and closes his eyes. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” I rest my hand along his jaw. “Why’d you come back to the diner? It was okay to stay in my apartment, you know.”

He steps off the sidewalk into the empty street instead of answering, and his wings spread out wide behind him.

Then he pulls me up against his chest, and I grab onto his arm with both hands. “Umm. What are we doing?”

“Your date.” The rumble in his chest travels into me everywhere we touch. “I would like to show you the land of your future home.”

“Ohhh⁠—”

His wings drive down, and we leave the ground.

I bury my face in his neck and hold on tight. The wind rushes cold past my ears, and his skin burns warm against my cheek. “Wait,” I holler, “the pants⁠⁠—”

“We don’t need them now,” he says.

Well, alright then.

When I can breathe again, I peel my face out of his neck, and the town is laid out under me. Shadow Wolf Creek glows in the valley, the shopping center, the Shadow Bar’s neon, little strings of porch lights running out to the dark edges. The mountains stand black against the last orange of sunset, and the wind is doing whatever it wants to my fresh press.

It’s so damn beautiful I forget to be scared.

He carries me up the mountain in long easy sweeps, over pine tops and a thin bend of creek, until the trees open below us. He drops through the gap, touches down so soft I barely feel the stop, and sets me down easy.

Cabins sit tucked against the mountainside among the pines, dark-timbered, gone quiet with the years. A fire pit waits cold in the middle of the clearing, and the valley spreads out past the tree line.

“All this?” I turn a circle.

“I will make sure you are happy with me,” he says, watching my face.

I walk up to the nearest porch and run my hand along the rail. It doesn’t even wobble. The overgrowth is nothing a weekend of work can’t tame, and here I am getting teary over some cabins in the woods. I press my hand over my mouth. “I can make this work.”

“It belonged to a wolf shifter pack,” Soren says, “so it’s built well enough to handle my size.”

“This is better than any date I had imagined.” I shake my head at him. “I was expecting to watch you hunt or something, not be handed land. You’re really knocking it out the park, Soren.”

His head tilts. “You were hoping to watch me hunt?”

“Yeah, I guess. There isn’t much else to do in town.” I fold my arms and let the other grievance out, since we’re here. “Besides watch you walk around with your whole ass out where everyone can see it. And that grinds my gears, if I’m being honest.” I know how I sound. I don’t care.

His claws close around my waist, and my feet lose the mountain. “Hey!”

“You really can love a monster,” he says, and his gold eyes have gone bright enough to read by.

“You’re my monster.” I flick the tip of his pointed ear. “Now show me our house.”

He leads me to the largest cabin, works the door open, and ducks in behind me. The wolves left it furnished, sofas, a long table, a wide fireplace, all of it under years of dust.