Page 39 of Howl for the Gargoyle

I couldn't tell from up here if she was panicking, searching for an exit from the gated acres we were in, or just…had the zoomies.

She slowed as she neared the cottage, straightening her back as she crouched. The moon had risen enough now that even from above, I could make out the pucker and glimmer of the shine on her right side. I swept in a circle above her and suddenly she stood, face tipped up and eyes reflectively glowing fire up at me.

She howled, and the sound made me shiver, a slight cry in the long note. I allowed myself to fall halfway to the ground, then beat my wings once, lifting me up to the sturdiest branch I could find. Hannah's legs bent and her head tilted, watching me warily from the ground.

"You ran from me," I called down, frowning as the words came out tinged with disappointment.

Hannah straightened to a more human posture, taking a few steps forward. Outside the gate, an owl screeched, and her head swung in that direction with the obvious impulse to chase the sound.

Turned away from me like that, she answered in a ragged and dark new voice. "You smelled like fear."

My wings rustled in irritation. Fear? I wasn't afraid. The prick at my pride was stupid and instinctive, and I was already falling from the branch to float down in her direction when I realized she was right.

Hannah stood, long and elegant, with slightly thicker thighs and an expanded rib cage. Her breasts were high and flat and inviting my mouth with round, reddened nipples. There were streaks of fur on her forearms and at the back of the bent heels of her long predator feet, and a silver-streaked tail curled around her scarred hip. She was a beautiful werewolf, a flash of movement, tense and ready to leap to action. Her gaze flickered as it traced over me, pointed ears twitching in thicker waves of fur and hair. Her snout was short and broad, a glimpse of sharp teeth gleaming from the corners. I wanted to touch her, study the flex of her legs in my hands—or better yet, around my hips—but she was shrinking in on herself as I approached, and I wasn't sure if she was bracing against an attack from me or trying to hold herself back.

"I wasn't frightened of you. I'm not," I clarified, and Hannah froze, on the precipice of running again. "I was frightened for you."

A soft whine called from her throat, and I stepped forward again. But Hannah shrank into a crouch and I stilled, the pair of us watching each other. Why was she holding still like that, staring at me out of the corners of her eyes, occasionally darting her gaze away like she was considering running again? Unless…

I crossed my arms over my chest and smirked at Hannah. "Are you still clinging to that control of yours?"

Hannah's head cocked, moonlight blinking over her huge eyes. "Of course."

"Don't you get it?" I asked. I waved a hand between us. "You're in control, Hannah. You've been in control the whole time."

She rose up from her crouch, and I spared a greedy glance for the flex of her thighs, imagining their vise grip around my hips. There was new fur there too, around her sex and on her inner thighs. I knew for a fact it would feel good against me as I fucked her.

"Even if you wanted to, you couldn't hurt me," I reminded her.

"I don't," she said, growl and whine mixing together. She blinked at me. "I don't want to hurt you."

I nodded and shrugged. "I know. So why don't you loosen the reins a bit and see what happens?"

Hannah sank deeper on her werewolf hocks, the ankle joint that led to her elongated foot, and my muscles tensed at the familiar intent in her settling expression.

"Rafe," she growled.

I feigned a grin at her and tipped my head to the side. "You want to hunt me," I said. Hannah flinched at the statement, not ready to face the truth of it, so I pushed on. "You couldn't catch me."

She huffed out a breath, rolling her eyes at the obvious bait. But it was only obvious because I knew how she'd take it. Her body grew still as she looked away from me, and my knees bent. When she darted forward, a sudden streak of pale skin and glinting eyes, I beat my wings and jumped.

I laughed as Hannah's claws swiped through the air, missing my toes by inches.

"Werewolves always think they're the biggest and baddest around," I called down to her, flying low and landing yards away. "You're puppies."

Hannah's eyes blazed, and her mouth stretched wide, baring her pretty, sharp grin for me. She snarled and leapt forward, falling to all fours, but I was in the air again before her claws dug into the earth. I flew backwards, just high enough to remain out of her reach, and I laughed as she growled, instinctively trying to intimidate me.

"Braggarts too," I continued.

Hannah rose up at that bait. "Gargoyles are assholes."

My left wing struck the trunk of a tree at that moment, and I dropped to the ground clumsily, Hannah barking out a laugh. But she didn't waste her opportunity, racing for me once more. I ran on foot, but if there was one thing werewolves had over gargoyles, it was ground speed. I had my back to Hannah when she vaulted, arms clamping around my throat, knees hooking around my hips. I couldn't fly with her attached to me, and I stumbled at the warmth of her against my wings.

"Got you," she rumbled in my ear. And then she bit lightly at my jaw, just a nip, more of a click of her sharp teeth against my stone. I shivered at the touch. It was gentle, playful really, and not even the first time a werewolf had tried to bite me. Except the other times had all been in earnest, clients lost in the hunt. Not a teasing mark to prove a point.

Hannah hopped down from my back before I could respond, the knuckles of one hand brushing the broad skin of one of my wings. My knees tried to buckle, and my head spun. I turned to reach for her, to pull her into me, and she danced out of my reach, grinning in earnest.

"Run, Rafe."

---