Page 6 of Secondhand Garagyre

Itense with anticipation.Ihave awaited the sound of her soothing voice as she converses with a dead man.Therough croak that comes with her greeting catches me by surprise.

Whydoes she sound like that?

Allowingthestoneslumberto slip from my eyes,Ilook at her from under my lashes, ensuring she isn’t looking my way beforeIopen my eyes fully and freeze.

Fury, likeIhaven’t felt in centuries, fills me asIgaze at her battered form.Shesits gingerly, like her ribs are sore, and every exposed piece of skin is mottled with bruises in varying shades of blue, green, purple, and yellow.Thegarments she wears are loose fitting.Iam sure because anything tight would be too much for her fragile body to handle in her current state.

Withoutconscious thought, my body softens.ThestoneslumberIhave hidden within for so many years disappears as if it never existed, as the last rays of the fiery sun slip from the sky.

Chapter Seven

LAITHOG

Islowly stretch,enjoying the pull of muscle asIinhale, processing the scents of everything around me.Theexternal stimuli assaulting my fleshly body is almost overwhelming after being deprived of it for so long.

Wetnesson my face catches my attention.

Myhands reach up and wipe the tears from my face, almost without conscious thought, but it is the last step in embracing the second chanceIhave been given.Ilayahanwill always be my mate, but that does not mean that my life ended when hers did, no matter howIhave wished it so many times over the years.

Shewould also have beaten me within an inch of my life if she knewIhad shut myself off from the world in my grief.Mymate embraced life to its fullest and would be very unhappy with me thatIhave, essentially, squandered centuries.Mychest expands in another deep breath asIallow myself to enjoy the simple act.

Iam going to have to work on my female’s situational awareness.Shedoes not seem to notice that the stone statue in herperipheral is no longer stationary but is slowly climbing down from the pedestal and walking towards her.

Ipause for a brief moment.

Myfemale?

Iam not entirely sure whenIdecided that this delicate human is now mine, but it feels right.Itis of no matter.Ihave decided she is mine, and mine she will be.I… will just have to woo her into it… and pray she doesn’t scream or faint at the sight of me.

Thatwould be rather counterproductive.

Slowly, ever so slowly,Istep in front of her and extend a clawed hand, gently grasping her chin to lift her head.Iignore the look of shock on her face, my thumb softly feathering along her contused jaw, asIkneel in front of her. “Whodid this to you?”

Iwatch as her eyes widen in shock, and her body braces as her flight or fight reflex takes over.Aslight wince is the only outward indication that the sudden tightness in her body causes her any pain.

Myeyes drift over her small form, assessing the damage as they trail across her body whileIwait for her to overcome her initial shock, absently noting the pieces of blue-green stone jewelry in her ears and around her neck.

Iwonder if she knows that’s a protection stone.

Herlips are split where they impacted with her blunt, white teeth.Infact, the split is significant enough that it should have been seen by a healer.Icould tell from the semi-healed edges that it is too late to have the wounds sutured.

Herlush lips will surely scar and provide a visual reminder of her experience.Iwonder if humans still consider scars to be things of scorn, instead of trophies of survival like my people did.Truthbe told, the damage would have been much worse if she had sharp teeth like mine.

Oneeye, a luminescent golden-brown color, is wide open and staring at me in astonishment, while the other is purple, so dark it matches my hide with only a sliver of color to be seen.Itis not completely closed, but it is a near thing.Itpains me to see the bruising extend down her nose and across her jaw as well.

Herdelicate neck sports bruises in the shape of a hand, the delineation of fingers and thumb clear.Whatlittle skin she has exposed beneath her pliable garments shows more bruises hiding the delicious sprinkling of freckles that should be the only thing adorning her body.

Weehands, tightly clasped in her lap, show fingernails broken off to the quick.Asign that she tried to fight back.Unexpectedpride flares up.Myfemale tried.Shedidn’t just admit defeat when her opponents obviously far outclassed her soft frame.

Makingsure my movements are measured, so as not to spook her further,Ireach out and grasp her tiny hands in one of mine, massaging the rigid digits and easing the tension from her abused fingers, absently noting the varied collection of stone and silver jewelry littering her person.

Whoeverdid this…

Iam going to make them bleed.

Chapter Eight

PAISLEY

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