Page 43 of Cherished By the Gargoyle
I fold my wings tighter around her as if that could somehow shield her from every threat. “I want only to protect you, Aurora, and it’s harder for me to do that when you insist upon taking risks.”
The fire leaves her eyes and she looks down at her hands. She leans forward and presses her forehead to my chest, nestled in my arms and wings. “I’m sorry, Thalric. I just… hate that I’m such a burden to you.”
“You are not a burden, Auri,” I whisper into her hair as I smooth a hand down her back. “Never think that, because it is not true.”
“Why would the witch do this to me?” she asks, voice raw with emotion. “I was just an infant. Why would Malvara curse me?”
“Monsters take what hurts the most or serves the darkest ends. And when they have that much hate and anger, they target what shines brightest because the light is the enemy of the darkness that lives inside them.” I clench my jaw. “She wanted your parents to suffer, so she threatened you—the one they love above all else.”
Silence hangs heavy between us, broken only by the crackle of fire and the distant sounds of the river. I can see the storm in her eyes—fear, grief, and something bright that refuses to be extinguished. “What if there was no curse?” she asks.
My brows draw tight. “What?”
“What if we could be as we were? Just you and me.” Her voice trembles, but her gaze doesn’t waver.
Pain slices through me. “We can’t.”
“Why not?” she presses stubbornly. “I’m still me, Thalric. And you’re still you.”
Gods help me, her words threaten to unravel my resolve.“Because we cannot,” I rasp, clinging to the only shield I have left.
Her fingers lift, feather-light, catching my jaw. “I love you.” The words are steel wrapped in silk. “I’ve loved you for so long, and nothing will change that.”
My heart fractures. “Auri—”
She cups my cheek. “I’d rather risk a hundred years of cursed sleep than live a lifetime without you.”
Fierce possessiveness surges through me as something dark and primal unfurls from deep within. My tail winds around her calf, sliding higher to her knee as need burns through me like fire. “We can’t.” I force the words past my lips, fighting to hold onto my resolve.
“I will not let a curse tell me who I may love.” She cups my cheek. “I will not allow a curse to dictate my future.”
I think of Prince Ryllen—her betrothed—and my vision turns red. My tail lashes, first in warning, then in a reflexive, possessive curl around her calf.
“How can you pretend to feel nothing, when we both know the truth burning between us?” Her eyes search mine. “I love you, Thalric. I choose you and only you. And I know you love me. Can you truly stand by while I wed someone else?”
The question is a knife.
Fierce possessiveness surges through me at the mere thought of another male touching her. A low warning growl rises in my chest as my restraint crumbles, and I wrap my arms tighter around her, dragging her flush against me as my mouth crashes down on hers.
The world shatters into fire and need, nothing left but her lips on mine and the raw, burning demand that I take what I’ve craved for so long.
The first brush of her mouth steals every breath I have. Wanting to be gentle, I struggle to retain some semblance of restraint.
“Thalric,” she whispers my name. “Make me yours.”
Her words erode the last of my control, and I slant my mouth over hers, hungry and desperate to claim her as mine. My claws flex into the dirt as if anchoring me from devouring her whole. I lift her in my arms, turning her to face me, her thighs straddlingmy hips. A small whimper escapes her lips as I splay my hands against her back, pulling her tighter as her body molds against mine.
A rough, pleased sound rises in my chest as my wings snap around us, a cocoon of stone and shadow, sealing her away from the world. She is mine to shield. Mine to hold. Always mine. Only mine.
She clings to me, and my heart stutters as she melts against me in complete surrender, her entire body so soft and giving.
“Auri.” Her name leaves my lips like a prayer as her want surges against mine.
My stav is hard and erect, and she moans as it presses against the heat of her center, only the scrap of silk between her thighs separating us.
The last thread of my restraint snaps as a soft moan leaves her lips, and I crush my mouth to hers, needing her to feel every vow I cannot put into words. My nostrils flare as the scent of her arousal grows stronger. Every stroke of my tongue, every desperate press of my body into hers, screams the truth:mine.
She answers me with equal fire, kissing me back with a hunger that scalds my soul. And gods help me, it awakens something dark and primal deep within—the part of me that is not made for gentleness. I want to mark her, to lower my mouth to that small, vulnerable place at her throat and sink in, branding her with my fangs so the whole world knows she is mine.
