Page 40 of Cherished By the Gargoyle
Thalric brushes it away with his thumb, gazing at me in concern. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t want to go to the capital.” My voice cracks. “I don’t want to be a princess.”
“I know it all seems scary right now,” he whispers as he tightens his arms around me, nuzzling my temple. “But try to think of the good, Auri. You’ll get to meet your parents, after wondering about them all your life.”
“How could they just let me go?” I ask bitterly. “How could they send me away?”
His golden eyes meet mine, full of sadness. “Sometimes the greatest act of love… is letting go.”
The words slice through me like glass, and I wonder if he speaks only of my parents. Or if he is speaking of me… of us.
I want to ask. Gods, I want to. But I’m afraid. The pain of his rejection is still too raw, and I can’t bear the thought of hearing him say again that we cannot be.
So instead, I curl tighter into his arms and pretend for tonight that we still have the future we dreamed of. That Fiora and the others are alive. That his parents are safe.
That tomorrow won’t steal him from me.
I press my face into his chest and pray to the gods that somehow, it will be true.
CHAPTER 23
THALRIC
It’s been a long day of travel by the time we stop beside a stream. A rocky outcropping along the bank will provide added shelter from the wind and some extra cover for our tent. I set down our packs and begin arranging a makeshift bed while Aurora gathers kindling. We’re far enough from the main road that a fire should be safe tonight.
I should tell Auri not to help, that I’ll do it all, but I already know she wouldn’t listen. She’s adorably stubborn and would only insist on contributing anyway.
After helping her stack the wood into a careful pile, I go searching for thicker branches, making sure to remain near our camp. The forest seems much too quiet, and unease ripples through me. Scanning our surroundings, I crouch low and run my claws over the damp soil.
There are tracks here—large, heavy, and fresh. My nostrils flare. These were made by Ogres. I’m sure of it.
They were here no more than two days ago. This must be the path they marched to intercept us for their ambush.
I glance back through the trees to where Aurora is standing by the stacked kindling, her brow furrowed in concentration as she taps the firestones together. She doesn’t notice me watching.
Clenching my fist, I force myself to calm. I scent the air but detect no hint of any Ogres nearby. As I scan the dark woods once more, I vow that nothing will touch her. Not while I still draw breath.
When I return, she smiles up at me. “I got the fire going,” she says, pride in her voice.
“Well done.” I taught her this skill a few years ago. I help her stack more wood on the flames. “This should be enough to keep it burning through the night.”
Her cheeks flush at the praise, and something tender squeezes my chest.
I watch as she makes a stew with some of the supplies Auren and Vivienne gave us, flavored with a few herbs she gathered nearby. As I study her, I almost forget about the danger waiting for us. Almost.
Forcing myself to focus, I train my gaze on the shadows beyond the firelight, senses sharp for any sound.
“At this pace, how long until we reach the capital?” Her soft voice pulls my attention back to her.
“Two, maybe three days. We’ll be safer once we’re inside the castle wards.”
I spread out the travel blanket and furs Auren gave us, arranging them carefully in our tent. It feels like nesting, and I hate myself for it. Gargoyles do this for their mates. For the ones they can claim. And I cannot claim her.
When I’m finished, I refill our waterskins at the stream. My eyes catch on a small stone nearby. It’s smooth and shaped like a heart. My chest tightens as I pick it up, wishing I could gift it to her.
Clenching my jaw, I set it back down when I remember that I shouldn’t keep doing this. Not when I know she belongs to someone else. Someone chosen by fate.
When I glance back, she’s humming as she sprinkles more herbs into the pot. The sound makes something inside me ache. She is everything to me.
