Page 11 of Claimed By Stone
And so we worked. She read the Godling, and I transcribed it as she spoke. We'd had these ancient scrolls for longer than I could remember, but I never dreamed I would be able to read them, let alone that she would be the one to unlock them. This magical creature. Here. With me.
There was a whisper of warning in the back of my mind. That something was off. But I silenced it. The only thing that I wanted to have hold my attention was her.
Slowly, she looked up at me with an odd expression.
"What is it?" I asked, my chest tightening.
"I feel strange."
Her movements were slowed. It was as if I could see it happening, the slip. She was fading away right before my eyes.
"Don't go," I said as I finally reached out and touched her softness, only to feel it turning to stone beneath my fingers.
She straightened. "I don't want to go," she said, searching my eyes for an answer I did not have.
In the space of a breath, she was gone. A statue once more.
Her scent still lingered in the air. An impossible mix of worn books and spring rain.
My hand lingered on her cheek, warmth already faded. I pressed a kiss to her forehead, only feeling the cold stone beneath my lips.
She would come back.
I would wait a thousand nights if I had to.
She must come back.
Chapter 8
Thavros
With a groan, I woke, rolling out my shoulders and rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Another night spent slumped over my table in the study.
I looked to the statue beside me—my stone goddess, standing sentinel as if nothing had changed. It would be easy to believe I’d dreamed it all. The night, her warmth, her voice. But the parchment in front of me said otherwise—pages of Godling text were transcribed. Proof of magic. Proof of her.
She had come to me again, as she had every night since that first night.
But the morning demanded more than memory. Today was the day Khuldruk and Callie would emerge from the mating den. I was anxious to see my brother again. And yet, I wasn’t sure what I could offer in return.
When they’d returned from the human realm, they’d been attacked by orcs from the Westerly Clan. Our oldest rivals. Frema had gone to investigate after the incident, but we’d heard nothing since.
All I had to report was the strength returning to our warriors and our healers working with renewed magic. Good news, yes, but it didn’t explain why the mating bond magic had vanished in the first place.
With a sigh, I made my way toward the great hall.
Even before I reached the doors, I could hear the din of celebration. Word had spread. Our chief had returned, and with him, a true mate. The clan was buzzing with joy. The feast would be worthy of legend.
But still... something in me held back.
I should be celebrating. And yet, my thoughts stayed behind, curled around parchment and stone, and the ghost of a touch I already missed.
After a morning meal, I met with the cook to see if they had everything they needed for a trip to market since most of our riders were out training with Frema. As I walked into the kitchen, the smell of stewing meats and fresh bread filled the air. I took a deep, approving breath as Magra, the head of the kitchen, turned to me.
“Thavros, what can I do for you?”
“I just wanted to check in with you to see if you needed any assistance.”
“And what, I suppose you’re going to be the one to assist me? I could put you to work.”
