Mortified, she took a steadying breath and fixed her attention on the delicate work, scraping her blade along the outer edge of his ear. Carefully, she navigated a ragged scar that marred its smooth curve.
The ear flicked out of her grasp, and she had to pause to avoid skewering it on the knife’s sharp point. “Hold still, please. I don’t want to cut you.”
“Tiny knife tickles.” His tail thumped the earth to underline his agitation, and his purr grew ragged and uneven.
She grinned to herself. A big, naughty kitten, he was. “You must bear it. I’ll be quick as an arrow.”
He obliged, his arm tightening around her slightly as he braced against the sensation. She finished evicting the moss as quickly as she could, then switched to his other ear. This side was more awkward to reach due to her right-handedness, and his ear more ticklish. He kept jerking away from her, angling his neck and holding her at arm’s length so she couldn’t reach.
Her breath huffed out in frustration. “You can’t go to Solvantis with one mossy ear. What will they think of you?”
Evrard snorted in what sounded like amusement. “Moss not nice? Not wise?” he asked, throwing her earlier compliments back at her. So the stoic gargoyle had a sense of humor! What a pleasant surprise.
“You’ll look half-wise, which is the worst kind,” she retorted. “Wise enough to get yourself in trouble but not wise enough to get out. Sound familiar?” To drive home the point that he was currently in just such a situation, she tapped lightly across his collarbone with the flat of her blade.
He roared a laugh like a small avalanche, holding her hips with both hands to keep her steady while his big body shook with mirth. “Trouble maybe good.”
With his fingers nearly spanning her backside, and his claws digging in slightly in a fair facsimile of possessive desire, Maggie couldn’t disagree. She might be in a bit of good trouble herself. Her cheeks heated even as she rapped him with her blade a second time. “Bend this way so I can finish.”
He acquiesced, tilting his head so the offending ear could be de-mossed, though a huge, fanged grin remained across his face. She hadn’t even known he could smile. It completely transformed his countenance from its usual grim expression. He looked…alive. No one could mistake him for part of the wall now.
It did something to her insides, seeing him like that. Turned her guts as soft as an oyster. If he wanted to, he could lean forward and slurp her up in one go.
She flicked away the last offending bit of moss and sheathed her knife. Impulsively, she pushed up on tiptoe to plant a brisk kiss his cheek, drawing back just as quickly. “There you are. All done.”
He didn’t let go of her waist. “Are we?” he rumbled.
Chapter 6
A Proper Goodbye
Evrard
He drew in a deep draught of her. She smelled of salt and lavender, and he tucked away that information like a gem into the purse of his memory. He’d never been close enough to scent her this deeply, and he wanted to hoard every detail for the long, lonely nights ahead.
Raucous human voices cut through the fog. A group must be approaching the gate, probably drunkards heading home afteran evening at the tavern. Evrard felt a brief pang about leaving his post at the gate until he remembered that he wasn’t supposed to be in Brinehelm still, anyway. He had no duty to guard it.
Rather than releasing Maggie, he tugged her close, pulling her around the corner of the wall into the shadows where the exiting humans wouldn’t notice their presence. Even if the men turned back to look, with his wings wrapped around them both, it’d be easy to mistake them for another lump of stone.
Sure enough, the pair of stumbling sailors only remarked on the abandoned handcart and then carried on their way.
Evrard let out a shuddering breath when the men were out of earshot. It was only then that he realized he was cradling her to his chest…and she seemed in no hurry to get away.
“Good thing the kitten didn’t cry. I’m Maggie,” she said, color rising underneath her freckles.
“I know.”
“Good. I’ve always said you should know someone’s name before you kiss them, so I figured I’d tell you mine before you kissed me back.” She looped her arms around his neck, clinging to him.
He was speechless. Not that he ever had a lot of words at his disposal, but she’d stolen every last one.
“I just thought, since you’re leaving and I will soon be married, we should kiss while we can.” Doubt slipped across her face, fleeting as a cloud. “Unless you don’t want to?”
He stared at her pink, parted lips. They would be sweet, he knew. He wanted to devour her. How could he explain it?
“I want… to bite… the fruit of your mouth,” he translated haltingly from his own tongue.
She brightened. “Is that how gargoyles say ‘kiss’?”
