Page 10 of Cherished By the Gargoyle
A soft moan escapes me as I melt into him, utterly lost.
His powerful body presses into mine, hard muscle against my softness, and I arch into him instinctively, craving more. My fingers tangle in his silken hair, pulling him closer, needing him like I’ve never needed anything before.
I gasp as he trails heated kisses down my neck, my skin tingling beneath his touch, breathless and desperate. “Thalric—”
My eyes snap open, and I bolt upright in the bed. I’m panting heavily, my heart racing, and my skin is flushed with warmth. Drawing in a deep breath, I try to calm my breathing even as the vividness of my dream lingers.
I’m in my room. I don’t remember Thalric bringing me home last night. I must have been asleep. The last thing I remember was drifting off in his arms after my nightmare.
It’s not the first time I’ve slept with him after a bad dream. I’ve gone to him many times for comfort. He’s always made me feel safe.
But it’s no longer just innocent reassurance I seek. I crave his closeness, his warmth, his strength. But now, it’s something deeper, something powerful and intoxicating… something I’m terrified he doesn’t share.
I bite my lip, guilt twisting within. Thalric has always been such a good friend, always there for me when I need him most. How can I risk that friendship by admitting my feelings? How can I bear the thought of losing him if he suspects?
Because I don’t just crave his comfort… I crave him. And the thought terrifies me.
Sighing heavily, I push my troubling thoughts aside and ready myself for the day. When I sit down at the tablefor breakfast, my Fae Guardians are already waiting for me, expectant looks on their faces.
The sisters share a long glance, something meaningful passing silently between them.
I narrow my eyes, suspicion rising. “What is it?”
Fiora clears her throat. “We thought about what you said last night, and we’ve decided upon something.”
She glances toward Lyria, who beams with excitement. “We had hoped to surprise you later,” she says, “but we thought it might be better to tell you now.”
Lyria squeezes my hands, her eyes sparkling. “For your twenty-third birthday, we’re taking you to the capital!”
A smile crests my lips. “Really?”
“Yes.” Maribel grins.
This is a dream come true. Finally, I’m going to see the royal city, the capital of Briarwyn. Joy fills me, and I fling my arms around them. “Thank you! Thank you so much!”
“We thought you’d be pleased,” Fiora adds. “I think you’re going to love it.”
Excitement thrums through my veins. “When do we leave?”
“Soon,” Fiora says. “Your birthday is only a few weeks away. Thalric and his family will accompany us. He’s to begin his training for the royal guard.”
Happiness blooms in my chest. For the first time in my life, I’m finally going somewhere. “This is going to be wonderful,” I breathe, practically floating to my room.
When we reach the capital, I can search for an apothecary willing to take me on as an apprentice. And maybe I can find a place to rent that’s close to the castle, so I can be near Thalric.
Oh, I can’t wait to tell him. And the best part is, we’re going together.
The rich scent of earth and fresh herbs surround me as I kneel among the garden beds, gathering rosemary and thyme. Sunlight filters lazily through the trees, painting golden patterns across the ground and warming my back.
The distant sounds of the village drift to my ears—the clang of Brakkus’s blacksmith hammer, dogs barking, and children playing.
I’ve already finished my chores this morning and after I finish picking herbs for Lyria, I’ll be able to go visit Thalric. I can hardly wait to tell him my news.
A sudden gust of wind sweeps through the garden, rustling leaves and sending strands of my hair dancing across my face. I glance up just as Thalric drops gracefully from the sky, landing beside me with a solid thud. His wings flare slightly before folding neatly behind him, and I smile, unable to hold back my joy.
“Thalric!” I brush the dirt from my skirts as I rise. “Have you—” I start to ask him if he’s heard the good news but stop when I notice the stiff tension in his broad shoulders, the troubled shadows in his golden eyes. “Is… everything alright?”
“My father.” He runs a clawed hand through his dark hair. “I’ve just come from another one of his lectures about responsibility.” He shakes his head. “Sometimes, I think I’ll never be able to live up to his expectations.”
