Page 89 of Cherished By the Gargoyle
He closes his eyes briefly, his jaw flexing as if holding back emotion. “Fiora says there’s a Dragon in the kingdom of Eryadon,” he says quietly. “He’s mated to a human and they have a son. And Ryllen claims to know of a Merman who took a human bride, and she is carrying his child. So perhaps it’s possible.”
“Then if the gods will it, we’ll be blessed. And if not…” I touch his face as I gaze into his eyes. “Then I’ll still count myself the luckiest woman alive. I wouldn’t trade a single moment with you. Not for anything.”
He hugs me close. “I love you, my savryl.”
“I love you too.” I murmur, brushing a kiss to his jaw. “Now, no more brooding, alright?”
A quiet laugh rumbles through him. “You should rest. Tomorrow will be a long day.”
“Are you saying you’re tired of me already?” I joke.
“Never.” His mouth curves in that soft, devastating way that makes my heart stutter. “But you’ll need your strength. There will be the ceremony and the reception... guests. And I will need all my patience not to steal you away before the vows are done.”
I laugh. “Then perhaps you should carry me back before temptation wins.”
He chuckles, scooping me effortlessly into his arms. His wings spread wide, the movement stirring the air around us as he leaps from the terrace.
The wind rushes past, cool and sharp, the world dropping away beneath us. I laugh, clutching at his shoulders, and he glances down with a grin that steals my breath.
“Thalric,” I whisper, lips brushing his ear. “Will our mating flight feel like this?”
For a heartbeat, his wings falter. The air jolts around us before he catches himself, muscles flexing as he regains his rhythm. “Goddess above,” he rasps. “You shouldn’t say things like that while I’m flying.”
I bite back a laugh, tracing a fingertip along his back next to his wing joint. “You’ll have to learn to fly through distractions,” I tease. “Tomorrow will bring plenty of them.”
His jaw tightens, but the smile tugging at his mouth gives him away. “You’re dangerous,” he says, voice rough.
“And you like it.”
He huffs out a quiet laugh, the sound vibrating through his chest as he banks toward my balcony. “That, I do.”
When we land, he doesn’t set me down right away. He holds me close, his forehead resting against mine. “Sleep well, my cherished one,” he murmurs. “Tomorrow, you’ll be my wife.”
I smile, my chest tight with love so fierce it almost hurts. “And you’ll be my home.”
CHAPTER 60
AURORA
My heart pounds as I stand just outside the temple doors. Fiora hovers nearby, her delicate red wings flickering with nervous energy as she fusses over my gown. Her fingertips shimmer, magic crackling in the air as my dress shifts seamlessly from white to deep sapphire blue.
“No, no,” Maribel sighs dramatically. Magic sparks from her fingers and turns the dress into a yellow gold color. “It must be golden,” she insists. “That’s the color of royalty and strength.”
Lyria laughs, shaking her head in mild amusement. Her emerald wings flutter, casting tiny, dancing shadows on the stone path as she flicks her hand, sending a spark of magic toward the dress. The fabric ripples again, settling into an elegant lavender threaded with shimmering gold that catches the sunlight. “It should be the color of the flag of Briarwyn,” she says. “She is heir to the throne and today she will wed her prince consort before dozens of ambassadors from other kingdoms.”
“It’s perfect.” I brush my fingers over the silken fabric, admiring the beautiful color.
Maribel and Fiora nod in agreement before they throw their arms around me in a group hug. “You are beautiful, my dear,” Fiora whispers, tears in her eyes. “We are so happy for you.”
My father steps forward, his eyes shimmering with barely restrained emotion as he carefully places a delicate golden circlet upon my brow.
He leans forward, pressing a tender kiss to my forehead. “You make me so very proud, Aurora,” he says, voice thick. “I’m so happy for you and Thalric.”
My mother wraps her arms around me, squeezing tight. “You have grown into the most extraordinary woman. We love you so much, my darling.”
“Shall we?” my father asks, offering me his arm.
Smiling, I loop my arm through his, and we step through the temple doors.
