Page 41 of Fated to the Gargoyle

She cries out and her nails dig into my back, ten small points of pressure that couldn’t mark my hide, and I hold her through it and drink. Her blood runs hot over my tongue, sweeter than anything the earth ever grew, and somewhere in the middle of it the bond comes down over us both, a weight and a warmth that will never lift.

Her hands slide weakly down my back and fall away.

I unlatch and lick the wound closed until the bleeding stops. The mark on her brown skin is mine, and it is permanent. Her eyes have already drifted shut. I gather her close and hold her while her breathing deepens into sleep. My eyes burn. Gargoyles do not cry, but if one did, there would be no witness tonight but the pines.

I have my mate. I am not going to spend this life alone.

I ease her out of my arms, and she doesn’t stir. Down the hall, the bathroom tap sputters and then runs hot, and I stop the drain and let the tub fill.

My mate will wake clean, dressed, and cared for, with my mark on her neck. She gave me her forever tonight. I plan to spend mine proving she chose right.

18

TREASURE

Iwake up flat on my back in the biggest bed I’ve ever slept in. Halfway to sitting, I have to stop and rest on my elbows. Log walls stand around me in low lamplight, every piece of furniture built for someone twice my size.

A deep, sweet ache sits low in my belly. Pressing my hand over it brings back all of last night. “Ohhh.” Lord.

Then I catch the rest. My skin is clean, the sweat and tears washed off me while I slept, and these sheets are fresh ones. Someone ran me a bath and got me through it without waking me once. I know exactly who.

I lie right back down for a minute. No one in my grown life has ever handled me this sweet. I don’t know where to put that yet.

Soren ducks through the doorway with a loaded tray on one big hand, and my stomach growls. Scrambled eggs, toast, sausage links, sliced fruit, and a glass of orange juice sweating down one side.

“You are awake.” He checks me over. “You slept too close to dawn, Treasure. You will have to wait here with me until sundown, and then I will take you home.”

“That’s fine.” I take my time scooting back against the headboard and smile up at him. “I really don’t think I can walk anyway.”

His eyes flare bright at that, and he doesn’t try to hide it. He crosses the room on those impossibly quiet feet and settles the tray on the bed beside me, careful with the juice.

“The food is from the wolf pack. They came in the night, cleaned, stocked the kitchen, and left breakfast warming on the stove.” He smiles. “And made sure there are… electronics in the home, so you will be comfortable while you wait for me.”

“Hold on.” I lean forward over the tray. “They did all that last night? While I was asleep?”

“They wished to welcome you.” His wings loosen behind him.

I open my mouth to say something about strangers in my house while I slept, then shut it. They left me a hot breakfast and a full kitchen. I cannot even be mad. This town, I swear.

Then he steps back from the bed. His wings flatten against his back, and he puts his eyes on the window instead of me.

“If you do not wish to stay with me,” he says to the window, “the alpha says he will help you with transport into town.”

There it is. My chest goes tight. I fold my arms over it. “And who’s gonna watch you while you’re in stone form?”

“There is no need to worry about me.” His wings pull in tighter.

“Well, I do.” I wait until his eyes come back to mine and hold them. “You’re my mate, Soren. And last night was beautiful.”

He returns to the bed and stops close enough that I have to tip my head back to keep his face in view. I move the tray to the nightstand and wince my way off that tall mattress.

“Treasure, no⁠—” He grabs for my waist.

I put one hand up, and he freezes. “You’re wrong, by the way. About the worrying.” I get my feet under me, sore as they are. “I bet you don’t even know what it feels like to be taken care of, do you? You’ve spent your whole life putting everyone else first.”

The rumble in his chest cuts out. His claws stop mid-reach, and for once my gargoyle has nothing to say.

“Well, that stops now.” I poke my finger dead in the middle of all that muscle. “You don’t get to lose yourself in me. That’s not how this works. You become a new version of yourself, same as I’m doing, and when we do things, we do them together.”