Page 6 of Cherished By the Gargoyle
Before I can argue any further, my father grips my shoulder, silently communicating his care and regret before they retreat to their room, leaving me to my thoughts.
I remain by the hearth, wings pulled tightly around myself, my talons digging into the stone beneath me.
She is not meant for you.
My father’s words echo endlessly, slicing deeper with every repetition.
But the truth of my heart is already immovable—firm and unyielding as stone itself.
No warning, no words, could ever change that.
My parents may not believe it could ever work between us, but I’ll prove them wrong. If Aurora will have me, I will take her as my mate and damn the consequences.
Drawing in a deep breath, I walk outside and spread my wings. There is a cave nearby that I often sleep in when I’m troubled. It’s the same cavern Aurora and I have played in since we were younger.
We chose it because Auri doesn’t have any wings, and it’s easily accessible by a tree… which she has scaled many times.
I need to be alone. To clear my thoughts. And I cannot do that in the house of my parents. The air outside is cool against my skin, but it’s easier to breathe away from their judgment. They have no idea how much Aurora means to me.
She is everything soft in a world carved from stone. When she smiles at me, the ache in my chest is almost painful, like my body wasn’t built to hold something so precious. I want only to care for and protect her. If I could, I would wrap her in my wings and shelter her from every discomfort.
Let others pray to their gods; she is mine. The beat of her heart is my prayer, her laughter my salvation. I was made toguard her, to adore her, to build a life around every breath she takes. I do not know where I end and she begins. I only know that without her, I am unmade.
My heart is stone, but it breaks all the same as I recall my father’s words.She is not meant for you.
I would give anything to take her as my mate.
CHAPTER 3
AURORA
Fiora doesn’t yell. She never has to. Her disapproval rolls off her in waves, heavy enough to feel in the air between us as we walk the dirt path toward home.
I bite my lip, trailing behind her just slightly. I’m sorry that Thalric got in trouble because of me, and the knowledge that I’ve disappointed Fiora yet again stings more than any harsh words ever could.
“You were reckless, Aurora.” Shaking her head, she runs a hand through her shoulder-length, silver-white hair. “You put yourself in danger.”
I stop short of rolling my eyes. “It was just a festival, Fiora.”
Her sharp emerald gaze snaps to mine. “A festival filled with strangers from across the kingdom. Do you honestly think every visitor arrives with good intentions?”
“I’m an adult.” Frustration bubbles to the surface. “Gods, Fiora, I’m twenty-two years old, nearly twenty-three. I went to a dance, not to war.”
“Twenty-three is nothing,” she counters. “Once you’ve lived as long as I have, you’ll understand my concern.”
Fiora says it the way she always does—like someone who’s lived a hundred years longer than me. Sometimes I have to remind her I’m human, not Fae, and I won’t look twenty-something forever the way she does.
“Gods forbid, what if someone had snatched you?” she asks, wings buzzing furiously. “Then, what?”
“Snatched me?” I scoff in disbelief. “What… like a band of marauding Goblins or Ogres?”
Fiora freezes, and so do I.
Our eyes lock, and a chill creeps down my spine at the look on her face. That’s exactly what she fears.
Before I can say another word, she moves forward again. “Hurry. We need to get home.”
With a flick of her wrist, she uses her fire magic to create a flaming orb that hovers before us, illuminating the path.
