Page 65 of Tempest Rising

Pride.

I had fought. I hadwon.

Chapter 26

Mason

The heat of the battle still clung to my skin, but it wasn’t the flames or the salamanders that had my pulse hammering in my ears. It was Tess. Seeing her in danger, watching her stand her ground despite the odds, had stirred something primal inside me—something I couldn’t suppress no matter how hard I tried.

She is ours. Protect her. Keep her safe. Claim her.

The voice of my gargoyle rumbled through my mind, deep and absolute. It was more than instinct—it was a command, one I felt in my bones.

The forest was still smoldering as the applicants dispersed, some limping, others dragging their weapons behind them with exhaustion. Tess stood among them, her shoulders squared despite the way her legs trembled. She was trying to brush it off like she hadn’t just faced down a horde of molten salamanders and nearly gotten herself killed.

I approached her, my steps heavy against the charred ground. “Are you all right?” I asked, my voice gruff.

She turned toward me, her golden-brown eyes lighting up when she saw me. “I’m fine,” she said, her tone light, almost teasing. “Thanks to you.”

The knot in my chest tightened. She was trying to laugh it off, but I could see the exhaustion in the way she swayed slightly on her feet. Her hair was a mess, her glasses smudged, and there was a faint scorch mark on the edge of her shirt. She looked like she’d been through hell. And yet, she was still standing. Still smiling. Still mine.

Mine.

The gargoyle in me rumbled its agreement, a deep, primal sound that echoed in my bones. She was my mate—my responsibility. And she’d been in danger. Again. My hands clenched into fists as the urge to shield her, to pull her close and keep her safe, warred with the need to let her stand on her own.

“You shouldn’t have been that close to the front lines,” I said, my voice rougher than I intended. My arms crossed over my chest, a poor substitute for the need to wrap them around her. “You were reckless.”

Her smile faded, and she raised an eyebrow. “I was holding my own.”

A low growl vibrated in my throat before I could stop it. “Barely,” I shot back, the words sharper than I meant them to be. “You could’ve been killed.”

She had been incredible out there—fierce, determined, unstoppable. But none of that mattered in the face of the raw fear that had gripped me. Watching her fight had been like witnessing a storm—beautiful and terrifying all at once. And all I could think about was what would’ve happened if she hadn’t made it. If I’d lost her. The thought tightened like a fist around my chest, squeezing the words out in frustration instead of the truth—that I had been scared out of my damn mind.

She rolled her eyes, brushing a strand of purple-highlighted hair out of her face. My fingers twitched at my sides, wanting to do it for her. “I’m still here, aren’t I?”

That wasn’t the point. The gargoyle in me didn’t care that she’d survived—it cared that she’d been at risk in the first place. That she’d been hurt. That I hadn’t been able to stop it.

I opened my mouth to argue, but before I could, Theron strode up to Tess. “You've done enough. Go get some rest.”

My gargoyle bristled as another male issued commands to my mate, but Tess exhaled, her shoulders sagging slightly. She looked up at me, her expression softening. “Thank you, Mason. For saving me back there.”

Something in her voice—something quiet, vulnerable—made my chest tighten. My gargoyle purred in satisfaction. She saw me. She trusted me. I wanted to say something, to tell her that I’d always protect her, that nothing in this world or any other would take her from me. But the words caught in my throat.

Instead, I acted.

Without waiting for her to protest, I bent down and scooped her into my arms. Her soft gasp of surprise barely registered as I shifted, my stone-like wings unfurling from my back. The leathery folds stretched wide, catching the faint breeze that swept across the battlefield.

“Mason! What are you doing?” she asked, her hands gripping my shoulders.

“You’re exhausted,” I said simply, my voice firm. “You need rest. I’m taking you back.”

She hesitated, her golden-brown eyes searching mine. For a moment, I thought she might argue, but she didn’t. Instead,she sighed and leaned into me, her small frame fitting perfectly against my chest. “Fine. But you’re being overprotective.”

I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. My gargoyle instincts were roaring now, drowning out any rational thought.

Protect. Guard. Shelter.

My mate was hurt, and nothing else mattered. All I knew was that I had to get her somewhere safe. Somewhere I could make sure she was okay. Somewhere no harm could reach her.

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