Page 7 of Cherished By the Gargoyle
Our cottage glows warm and inviting against the darkness, nestled at the edge of the woods, ivy climbing up the stone walls, and candlelight spilling from the windows. The gentle murmur of the nearby stream echoes through the forest.
The door is barely open before Lyria rushes forward, her green dragonfly wings fluttering anxiously as she envelops me in a fierce hug. “Oh, gods, Aurora! We were terrified!”
“I’m sorry, Lyria. But I was only gone for an hour.”
“An hour of worry,” Maribel murmurs, stepping forward, midnight-blue wings glinting in the low firelight. She cradles my face tenderly, her cool touch soothing despite my irritation. Her violet eyes travel over me as if searching for any signs of injury. “You could have been hurt, my darling child.”
“You’re all overreacting,” I insist, though the knot of guilt twists tighter inside me.
“Are we?” Fiora crosses her arms. “You must trust us, Aurora. We only want to keep you safe. There are dangers in this world that you do not yet understand… dark things that would love nothing more than to steal you away.”
I groan again, exasperated. “Why is everyone acting like I wandered off to the capital alone? It was one night in the village. Besides, Thalric was with me.”
“And I don’t doubt he’d do all he could to protect you, Aurora, but he’s only one person,” Lyria says.
Maribel nods solemnly. “Even the strongest warrior can fall if outnumbered.”
I give them an incredulous look. “Do you actually think someone was out there waiting to snatch me?”
No one speaks. Their silence says everything.
“You’re all being ridiculous,” I insist.
“You have no idea what dangers lurk beyond our doorstep,” Fiora huffs.
“Exactly,” I snap, frustration burning through me. “I have no idea because you never let meseeanything. Never let medoanything! I want to go places. I want to see the capital, the markets, the great castle of Briarwyn—where the king and queen live.”
“We understand,” Lyria says. “We only want you to be safe.”
“She’s right.” Maribel offers me a tender, knowing look, her silver-white hair tumbling over her shoulders in graceful waves. “We love you too much to risk losing you, dear.”
My irritation crumbles beneath the weight of their concern. They love me. I know they do. They took me in when I was just a babe, an orphan abandoned to fate. But this is my life, and I feel like I’m suffocating.
“And I love you all, too. But… I just want more.” I sigh heavily. “I want to see things, experience things. I’ve never been anywhere, never done anything. One night at a village festivalshouldn’t cause this much worry. I’m twenty-two years old. You cannot shelter me from the world forever.”
The sisters exchange a glance with each other before Fiora looks back at me. “I know you don’t understand it now but trust me… there is a reason.”
“What reason?” I give her an exasperated look. “Tell me.”
Lyria steps forward and takes my hand. “Please, Aurora. You must trust that we know what’s best for you.”
She’s always been the peacemaker in the family, and she knows just what to say to disarm me. Sighing heavily, I nod. Lyria hugs me tightly and then I go to my room, closing the door behind me.
Sleep doesn’t come easily tonight. When it does, I slip into a dream.
I’m falling, tumbling through a void. Darkness surrounds me, thick and suffocating, pressing down until it’s hard to breathe.
I’m trapped. I try to move, but my limbs refuse to obey. My eyelids are sealed shut, heavy as stone. Panic claws at my chest as I fight to open them. Distant voices echo all around me… soft, indistinct murmurs that I can’t quite understand.
When I finally open my eyes, shapes flicker at the edge of my vision. Shadows twist and shift, forming the outline of something turning slowly in the dark—a strange, wooden wheel with a gleaming spike at its center. Thread spills from it, dark as spilled ink, coiling and uncoiling like a living thing.
Dread fills my veins. I don’t know what I’m seeing, but every instinct screams that I should run. But I can’t.
My pulse pounds in my ears as the wheel turns faster. Black silk threads stretch from it, tangling around my wrists and ankles. They tighten and bite into my skin, holding me fast.
Fear tightens my chest as the shadows crowd closer. The threads pull, forcing my hand toward the sharpened spike.
“Thalric!” I cry out, but no sound leaves my lips. Only the relentless turning of the wheel and the hiss of thread tightening in the dark.
