Page 12 of Cherished By the Gargoyle
My pulse flutters wildly. “Yes?”
He leans in, slow enough that I could step back if I wanted to, but I don’t. My breath catches as the tip of his nose gently skims alongside mine, his lips so close we share each breath.
His wings fold forward, encircling me in shadow and light, and the world holds perfectly still. The heat from his body radiates to mine as his masculine scent of rain and stone fills my senses.
My heart pounds so loud I’m certain he can hear it. “Thalric,” I whisper. I want so much for him to kiss me, but I cannot speak the words.
His eyes drop to my lips, and a deep, shuddering breath escapes him. “Auri, I—”
“Aurora!” Maribel’s voice cuts through the air, interrupting the moment between us.
I jerk back, my pulse still racing as Thalric exhales hard and steps away, his expression torn between frustration and something akin to longing.
“Are you in the garden?” Maribel calls from inside the cottage.
Sighing, I tear my gaze from him. “Yes!”
“Can you go to the market and pick up some flour and fresh fruit, dear?”
“Sure,” I manage, still breathless. I glance up at Thalric, my cheeks burning. “Do you want to come with me?”
He hesitates only a moment before nodding.
As we walk toward the village path, silence stretches between us. Every brush of his wing against my shoulder makes my cheeks heat, every unspoken word hanging heavy in the warm afternoon air.
I can’t stop smiling as I recall the almost-kiss that didn’t happen, in the garden, but still feels like it did.
My heart flutters as I steal a glance at him, wondering if he would have kissed me if Maribel hadn’t called out.
The question haunts me as we make our way to the village. And as we walk side by side, I send a silent prayer to the gods that this yearning isn’t one-sided, and that he feels for me what I feel for him.
CHAPTER 6
THALRIC
The village square buzzes with life beneath the warm glow of the afternoon sun, a vibrant tapestry of noise and color unfolding around us. Aromas of roasted nuts, spiced cider, and freshly baked bread swirl in the crisp, autumn air.
Merchants shout cheerful greetings from the market stalls overflowing with goods such as bundles of dried herbs, baskets filled with ripe apples and pears, thick woolen cloaks dyed rich jewel tones, while families and children walk along the cobblestone paths.
But it’s not the bustle of the market that captures my attention. It’s the couples—the mixed-species pairings that seem to be everywhere I turn.
I see an Orc tenderly guiding a human woman through the crowd, his massive hand gentle around hers. Another human woman laughs warmly at a Wolf Shifter as he wraps an arm protectively around her shoulders. Even a Dwarf and a Fae stand close, lost in quiet conversation, their intimacy clear and unbothered by the busy marketplace.
My chest tightens because I want that with Aurora. I want it fiercely.
Unable to stop myself, my gaze slides to her. She is radiant in the golden sunlight. Her honey-brown eyes are bright with curiosity as she examines the wares at one of the stalls.
Something shifts deep within as possessive need claws at my chest. Gods, how I want to touch her. To hold her hand openly, to tuck her close against my side and let everyone know she is mine and mine alone.
But my father’s harsh words haunt me, whispering cold reminders that tighten like iron bands around my heart.She is human, Thalric. Humans and gargoyles do not mix. She is not meant for you.
I grit my teeth, forcing down my frustration as Aurora pays for two bundles of dried lavender and tucks them carefully into her basket.
We move through the square, gathering flour and fresh fruit that Maribel requested. But I notice the instant Aurora’s attention drifts.
She gazes longingly at the pastries in the bakery window. Auri has what her guardians refer to as a ‘sweet tooth.’ Every time we come to the village square, she stops in for a treat; sometimes two.
“Come on,” she urges brightly, tugging on my arm. “Just a quick stop.”
