Page 10 of Claimed By Stone
She shook her head, a flicker of concern darkening her features.
I hated it. Hated even a shadow of uncertainty on her face.
I wanted her to feel safe. To feel wanted.
My hands ached to reach for her—but surely that would be too much. Too soon.
And yet, I was drawn to her like gravity. Like fate. Like something older than my bones.
For a long moment, I just watched her. Unable to take my eyes off her, I was afraid she would slip away again, and I would be left questioning my own sanity.
"You're real?" I fought the urge to reach for her. I want to see for myself if she was real, but touching her seems wrong. Touching perfection might mess it up, and I would do anything to stay in the presence of this goddess.
"I'm not a figment of your imagination."
"It seems impossible. You came to me in my dreams."
"You dreamed of me."
I dreamed of her, yes, but dreams don’t leave behind translated scrolls. Dreams don’t watch you with eyes full of stars and sorrow. Dreams don’t breathe.
"Yes," I confess. "It would seem that you have filled my senses both sleeping and awake. In fact, I was fairly convinced I dreamed you last night. The only proof I had was the text you translated last night. How did you do that?"
"I don't know." Her brows once again furrowed in thought. "But somehow I feel like you are someone I've always known." She shook her head and looked away. "It's odd. I have no sense of who I am or why I'm here, but I know it is for a purpose. I'm sorry, I'm not certain that makes sense."
He gazed at her, thinking how hard it must be to be lost to all of it. "But you could read Godling. How could you read that text?"
"I mean, I suppose I must be a Godling, but I have no proof of that, only my ability to read the text. I could read a couple of the texts on your table last night. What are you working on?"
What was I working on? The question should have been simple, but nothing about her presence made anything feel simple. The scrolls, the research, the return of magic—secrets I’d buried even from most of my clan. But now… she was part of it. Wasn’t she?
She walked over to the table covered in scrolls and journals. "Would you like to translate a bit more?" she said as she reached for a scroll.
As she did, her hand brushed mine. My entire body lit up as magic zipped through me. It was all encompassing, from an ache in my teeth to a bite and a familiar hardening in my pants. Neither reaction was appropriate to the goddess before me. I quickly pulled my hand back, trying to regain my composure.
I watched in rapt attention as her graceful hands brushed along the paper until she came to the scroll of Godling. I wanted nothing more than to take her hand and hold her to me, seeing if she felt like stone or if her skin held the softness I was aching to hold.
Quickly, I sat back in my chair. These were not the thoughts to have about the goddess before me. I should not defile her, even in my thoughts. If she wanted to be defiled, I would happily—no. I would not even think about that. But Gods... if she ever asked me to…
Her gaze came to meet mine again. This time, though, the heat that simmered there was palpable. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath, trying to stop the thoughts of ravishing her right here on this very table.
"Are you frightened?" she asked, her face concerned. "Please don't be frightened of me."
"No, I am not frightened," I said in a low, gravelly voice. "I fear frightening you. You… you overwhelm the senses."
She looked up at me with a look I couldn't quite read until the corners of her lips tipped up, revealing the most beautiful smile I'd ever seen. "I'm not frightened of you," she said.
"Good, I will never harm you nor allow any harm to befall you."
"I know," she said, as simple as breathing. "I have no reason to be as certain of that as I am, but I trust you."
Those words settled in his soul like a warm blanket, shielding me from the cold mountain air.
"Good."
"Would you like me to translate more of the scroll?"
"Please."
