Page 21 of Cherished By the Gargoyle
“Just a bit of bruising,” Reid adds, gesturing to his leg. “But we’re okay.”
I rush toward Thalric, flinging myself into his arms.
His body goes rigid, a faint hiss escaping him as my hand brushes his left wing.
I pull back instantly, noting the dark blood running down the leathery sail. “You’re injured. We need to get you some help.”
“It’s nothing,” he says, but his face tightens as the wing droops slightly behind him.
“It’s not nothing. You need healing,” I insist. “Fiora and the others can help you.”
“No, Auri. You’ll be in trouble if they find out where you were.”
“I don’t care.” I blink back tears as worry tightens my chest. “You need a healer, and I’m taking you to them.”
His gaze holds mine, something unguarded flickering in his eyes before he exhales. “Fine.”
He’s quiet as we make our way to the cottage. That alone tells me how much pain he’s in.
As soon as we reach the back garden, I race ahead and rush toward the door. “Fiora! Lyria! Maribel!”
The door swings open before I reach it. Fiora’s eyes widen at the sight of me, covered in dust, hair tangled, and my dress slightly torn. “Aurora, what in the seven hells happened?”
“Thalric’s hurt. The ruins collapsed,” I say hurriedly. “He saved me, but he hurt his wing. Please, help him.”
Fiora ushers us inside, guiding Thalric to the table. They gather around him, Fiora’s magic winding through her fingers like wisps of red smoke and floating around his wing as she inspects his injury.
“What happened exactly?” she asks without looking away from her work.
“We were at the castle ruins, in the forest,” I explain. “Part of the structure collapsed while we were inside. Thalric sheltered me with his wings, and he got the others out alright. I—I know we shouldn’t have gone, and Thalric didn’t want to go, but I insisted. And I—”
“You could have been killed,” Fiora snaps. “Both of you.”
“I know.” My voice cracks. “And I’m sorry. But please, just heal him first. Then you can be angry at me.”
With a frustrated huff, she turns her attention back to Thalric. Lyria and Maribel do as well, each of them working to heal him. The faint hum of magic fills the air. Light spreads through the torn membrane of his wing, knitting it together until only a faint scar remains.
“Try that,” Fiora instructs.
Thalric stands and flexes the wing carefully. “It feels good. There’s no pain.”
“Oh, thank the gods,” I murmur under my breath. I wrap my arms around him. “I’m so glad you’re alright.”
His wings fold around me, warm and solid, his heart beating strong and steady beneath my ear. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper into his chest. “For everything.”
“Don’t be.” He nuzzles my temple. “You’re safe. That’s all that matters.”
Rising up on my toes, I brush my lips to his in a tender kiss.
Lyria inhales sharply, and I’m vaguely aware of Fiora and Maribel gaping at us.
I’m sure they’re surprised, but I’m not embarrassed. Surely, it cannot be that much of a shock that I’ve fallen in love with my best friend.
When we finally part, Fiora steps forward, a stern look on her face. “You should go home, Thalric. Before your parents worry about you.”
He nods.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” I add as I walk him to the door. When he reaches the threshold, I kiss him again.
