"He can really see you? What the fuck?"
The gargoyle hisses a reply I can't make out since I'm not using my enhanced senses in the dungeon, too afraid the smells and sights from past horrors will scar me for life.
“Stop, don’t go,” Marlow says urgently. “Come back.”
“Nothing more to say to you.”
“Listen to me!” he insists. “There's something strange happening.”
I pause, turning my head for one last look. "Oh, so you're admitting that your little friend exists?"
"You shouldn't see him. Why can you see him? It doesn’t make sense." His voice sounds small and lost. I tell myself it's just an act.
"You weren't doing the best job of hiding him," I point out. "He's been there the whole time." The creature being Marlow’s pet makes way more sense than the creator of this macabre dungeon deciding the place needed some ambiance and decorating with little gargoyles.
His mouth drops open. "You saw him the whole time?"
"Why does it matter? If he could help you, he'd already have sprung you. Right?" Even if the creature can slip through the cell bars, it'd still need to free his bigger friend, and the bars are now spelled to hold out against whatever strength it can muster.
"You don't understand—"
"No,youdon’t understand," I cut him off, raising a hand to silence him before he starts weaving another elaborate lie. "Nothing you could possibly say will change my mind. I’m never going to believe a word out of your mouth again. You’re a criminal.”
“I’m your mate,” Marlow says.
…Well then. Gotta hand it to him, that’s not the comeback I was expecting. Points for originality, that’s for sure.
Despite growing up in a tough pack, I've always been a romantic. I used to daydream about finding my destined mate—how I’d see a glimpse of who they truly are, see something genuine, and suddenly feel a pull deep in my chest that screamedmine.
A true mate. A connection so profound that I wouldn’t have to worry about picking the wrong person, because I’d know I was safe. Surely, the one meant for me wouldn’t shatter my heart into a million pieces like so many others had.
But my fantasies never included a dungeon cell and a liar in artistically ripped jeans.
“Are you really that desperate?” I force a laugh that sounds hollow. “You’re sick.”
“I’m not lying,” he insists, his blue eyes locking onto mine. How can he look me straight in the eye and spew the most ludicrous crap with such conviction?
Time to get the hell out of here. I’ve already wasted enough energy on him.
“Wait, don’t walk away. Come back. Come back!”
I keep moving, determined to put distance between us.
Just when I thought he couldn’t sink any lower, Marlow Maddox proves once again that he’ll do anything to save his own skin. Fortunately, I see through the act this time. There’s no way in hell my fated mate is a wanted criminal and murderer.
5.Dungeons and Delicacies
Wynn
I enter the dungeons the next day to deliver Marlow’s lunch. Get in, get out, don’t listen to any nonsense. That’s the plan.
The gargoyle lies on the floor beneath the prisoner, curled near the stone slab that passes for a bed. The creature resembles a statue perfectly, so still like carved stone. He’s about six inches tall with one chipped horn and a bent wing. His wings snap open when he notices my stare, swiftly launching himself into the air and looping back to land on the other side of Marlow, cowering from me.
Right. Back to the plan.
“Don't mind me. Just the meal delivery.”
“I always imagined my mate would be taller,” Marlow drawls, sprawled on his back, eyes locked on the ceiling.
