Page 23 of Cherished By the Gargoyle
“In my nightmares.”
“What nightmares?” Lyria asks. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
“I—I didn’t know what it was. I wasn’t sure—”
“How long have you dreamed of this?” Maribel asks.
“Several times over the past few months.”
She gives Lyria and Fiora a worried look. I’ve never seen them so concerned. But still, I don’t understand.
“Why all this secrecy? Why all the lies?” I ask, still stunned by all they’ve just told me. “Why keep me hidden all these years? Could my parents not have protected me from the curse? Couldn’t they simply have kept me from spinning wheels as you have done all this time?”
“They couldn’t be sure that Malvara wouldn’t find a way to reach you. It’s the reason your parents gave you to us to raise in secret,” Fiora adds. “To keep you safe, away from the palace and the capital. To hide you from the Goblin witch until you came of age.”
“I don’t understand… why could you not simply undo the witch’s curse?”
“I wish it were possible.” Maribel takes my hand in hers, squeezing it gently. “But even with Lyria lending me some of her power that she planned to gift you, the witch’s dark magic was too strong. Some even believe her magic feeds on life itself—one soul stolen to stretch her own.
“But I was able to change it; to spare you. If the curse comes to pass, instead of death, you will fall into an enchanted sleepuntil awakened by the kiss of fate’s chosen—a prince bound by prophecy and a devotion etched deep into the heart.”
“A prince?” I ask. “Who are you talking about?”
“Prince Ryllen of Andoryn,” Fiora replies. “You were betrothed to him even before your birth. It was decided between your two kingdoms that if your parents had a daughter, you would be wed to their prince.”
My thoughts immediately turn to Thalric. “No.” I shake my head. “That cannot be. I—I don’t even know this prince.”
“It matters not,” Fiora says. “You are betrothed to him. You always have been.”
“No,” I state firmly. “I cannot marry him.”
“He is the prince bound by prophecy,” Fiora says. “He is your betrothed, and the only thing that stands between you and an eternity of enchanted sleep if you succumb to Malvara’s curse.” She gives me a grave look. “So now you understand, my dear. You cannot marry Thalric. Prince Ryllen is your destiny. Not the Gargoyle.”
My world splinters.
I step back, my mind spinning. Everything I’ve known, everything I’ve believed… it’s all unraveling before my eyes. I stare at my guardians, searching desperately for some sign that this is a mistake. A misunderstanding. Anything other than the devastating truth written in their solemn faces.
“But I love Thalric,” I choke out, desperation clawing at me. “IchooseThalric. I love him and he loves me.”
Maribel’s eyes glisten with tears. “I’m sorry, my dear. But you cannot be with him.”
“This is for the best, Aurora,” Fiora says softly. “Gargoyles do not love as humans do. Their hearts are stone.”
“You’re wrong.” My voice breaks.
“It is not love, it’s primal obsession,” she counters. “Just as they collect and hoard stones, they are deeply possessive of those they take as their mates. But love? They are not capable of it.”
“I don’t believe that,” I counter. If his heart is truly stone, why does it feel as if it beats only for me? “He loves me. I know he does. I’ve known him my entire life. I—”
“Enough,” Fiora cuts me off. “You cannot marry Thalric. He is destined to be your guard.”
“What?”
“His family was sent away with us so he could grow up alongside you. To prepare him to become your personal guard,” Fiora continues. “Just as his father was personal guard to the king—your own father.”
“But—” the breath freezes in my lungs as I absorb the impact of her words. “Does Thalric know?” I search her eyes for the truth. If he does, I don’t know how I’ll bear knowing that he lied to me all this time too. “Has he known all along?”
“No,” Lyria reassures me. “He has not been told yet.”
