Page 4 of Gaga for the Gargoyle
My stress must be taxing on my body enough to be felt amongst them.
“The bars are useless. My fated mate would not frequent one of those vile breeding grounds. It’s all sex, sex, sex, and I can get that with the snap of my finger—”
“Aren’t you a confident motherfucker—”
“Fuck off, Loch.”
He chuckles, the asshole. Locheran has been my advisor since the moment I was crowned king, but we’ve known each other since we were young pups. We’re best friends, and we joined my father’s army together. We’ve killed evil side-by-side. We’re inseparable. Yet he doesn’t face the same fate as me. He can turn one thousand and not have to worry about permanently turning to stone.
He’s yet to find his fated mate, though many gargoyles don’t. For royals, it’s imperative that we do. Only oneother king failed to find his soulmate. When he turned to stone, his replacement had not yet arrived, and the city was burned to the ground by a fire-breathing demon. A fire that killed thousands and was blamed on a human’s mistake.
“I will stand guard here until the sun wakes,” I say. “You go. Enjoy yourself. We’ll meet tomorrow night to go over reports.”
Locheran sighs dramatically and walks away without saying a word.
The rest of the night went by without incident, thankfully, because my thoughts were too focused on the pull in my chest and the possible cause. I’ve traced it to the cathedral, and that’s why I’ve been sleeping here lately. The moment night falls, I emerge to the cathedral’s roof to find the source of the connection, only for it to be severed.
That’s the only way to describe it. A connection. A cord tying me to something.
Or someone.
I fly home to my penthouse down the street from the Basilica. The building has roof access so I can enter as my true form instead of shapeshifting into a human, which has been draining me of energy lately.
God, why is everything fucked?
My eyes are struggling to stay open, but I know the moment my head hits the pillow, my worries will keep me awake.
I shower and jack off, trying to relieve some of my tension. I’d much prefer a cunt, asshole, or mouth around my cock, but fucking for fun is less desirable when you’re six months away from a lifetime of stone.
So, I take my pleasure by hand.
Once I’m done, I dress in a t-shirt and sweats, then collapse onto the couch and turn on the television to a local news program. A reporter is talking about a deadly fire at a nearby high-rise apartment. My soldiers informed me of the blaze. I sent them in to investigate, but there was nothing supernatural about it.
I know they’re restless. They sense the threat as well. We’re on edge, waiting for our shields to be penetrated.
My phone dings with a notification, and I unlock it, thinking it will be a drunken text from Locheran. Instead, I find a new app on the home screen.
Kiss-meet.
Did that fucker download a dating app on my phone?
To be fair, we’ve yet to resort to dating apps. We’ve embraced the technological advances of this world, but dating apps? I’ve resisted, because why would my fated mate be on one of these so-called hookup apps?
Why wouldn’t they be?
Fuck it. What do I have to lose other than my life?
I tap the screen, and it takes me to a page to enter my details. Is this an app for humans or paranormal beings? I play it safe and enter the details for my human form.
Name: Xander
Age: 30
Height: 6’4”
Eye Color: Blue
Hair Color: Black
