“A thing for which there are not enoughfucksin the world.” I remove my glasses and close my eyes, tipping my head back against the sofa and wishing I could empty the whole thing out. “You’re going to need to pour another round for this one, boys. Maybe even two.”
Chapter Twenty-One
DRAEGAN
By the time I feel like I can breathe again, the candles have burned down to stubs and the moon has risen high in the autumn sky.
When I find the courage to draw back and meet Westlyn’s gaze, there’s no mistaking what I see in her eyes.
Love.
Warmth rises inside, my heart expanding. But then, just like a balloon snagged on a rusty nail, it deflates.
You can’t have this, Caldwell. It was never yours to want.
My walls go back up, brick by brick, and I turn away from her, desperately trying to gather the last of my thoughts.
Soft fingertips brush the edge of my wing, and I shudder.
“Westlyn.” I take her hand in mine and turn back to look at her again. She’s still holding my daughter’s stone, and now it’s warm from her touch, and her eyes are so full of hope—that dangerous, brittle thing I’m going to have to rip out from under her…
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she whispers.
“Like what?”
Another tear spills down her cheek. “Like you’re about to break my heart.”
Damn it.Why must I spell it out for her? Why can’t she simply understand?
“You’ve brought so much happiness to this home,” I say. “I’ve told you as much.”
“And you resent it.”
“Yes. Because for the first time since the fae cursed us with thiswretchedexistence, you’ve made them—madeus—want things we simply cannot have.”
“No. You onlythinkyou can’t have it because you’re still punishing yourself for the sins of a dark fae murderer.”
“That’s not…” I take a deep breath and try again. “On the day Verrick slaughtered my family, my heart turned to stone—literally and figuratively. I thought I’d made peace with that—not with their deaths, never. But with my existence as an immortal gargoyle. My burden and what it meant to carry it in a city filled with men even more corrupt than the Wintermoon fae. Yet somehow, after fifteen hundred years of protecting the gargoyles in our care, fifteen hundred years of searching for a way to break our curse and set them free, one month with you has shatteredallof that. The others have forgotten what it means to be cursed in this way. Forgotten that we are not allowed to live as mortals anymore. Toloveas mortals.”
“You might not be willing to go there, but as for Rook and Auggie and Jude? It’s not your call, Draegan. Who’s to say they can’t have this?”
“Our curse… it was never meant to be eternal. Verrick didn’t intend for his guardians to live this long, even as immortals. He underestimated how long humanity would cling to its realm—that’s the only reason the four of us still linger. The curse, eventually, will run its course, and we will turn to stone just like all the others.”
“I don’t know why we’re even talking about this. We’re going tobreakthe curse, Draegan. We’ve already opened the Codex, and now we’re transcribing it. We’re so close to finding that Unmaking spell—I know it.”
“Westlyn.” I run my thumb along her palm, my touch as soft as my voice. “What do you suppose happens when we break the curse?”
“You’re free. That’s what we’re working toward, right? That’s our end game. Freedom.”
“Freedom. Yes. And what do you think that means for your gargoyles?”
“I guess I just… I don’t know. I figured once we broke the curse, you’d turn back into mortal men. The men you werebeforethe curse. Which would mean you’d dieeventually, but you could live out the rest of your days inthistimeline, as humans. With… with me.”
“There won’t be any more days to live out. We won’t survive this curse. Even if you break it tomorrow, we won’t survive it.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.” I cradle her cheeks, her lovely face blurring through the fresh tears glazing my eyes. “Freedom from this curse doesn’t mean we get to live as the men we once were, love. Those men died centuries ago. All that remains of them is what you see before you now.”
