Page 13 of Loved By the Gargoyle

So I stood, my wings aching as I snapped them against my back. I loomed over her, bending to get a closer look. My hair slid across my shoulders, swaying between us. I expected her to scramble back across her bed to get away from me. But she was on all fours, leaning towards me like she wanted a closer look as much as I did.

For a moment, we did nothing but stare at one another. It was a privilege to breathe her in, to study her from this close a distance and memorize her features. The pale skin, flushed pink along her cheeks, the dark and expressive eyes.

She was a vision, a melody brought to life, perfection given form. She brought sound to colors and flavor to emotions.

And she was mine.

All mine.

My wife.

If only she would allow me to claim her first.

When my brothers and I had set out to find brides, we had been adamant that we would seize them, steal them, mate them, and they would be ours.

I was not setting out to do it in the way of our original plan. This had not been my intent at all. Yet now that I was before her, I could feel that urge gripping me, to grab her and fly her away from everything. But even stronger than that was something else.

I was not impatient, unlike my brothers. I had studied my wife before landing here, and yet there was still much I did not know about her, still much that gave me the ability to be surprised.

The way she stared at me was one of them.

Like I was a marvel. Like I was, indeed, beautiful. And that urge to steal her, yes, it was there, but the urge to hear her speak was a far greater need.

“Please,” I whispered, startling her eyes to meet my own. “Will you say it again… Mia?”

She blinked slowly. Her eyes darted everywhere at once, taking in my face and our differences, no doubt. My eyes, which contained empty space and no amount of color, unlike her own. My horns, my fangs, even my skin… But our gazes locked and held, and a tremble swept through her body.

“Say what?” Her pink tongue darted out to swipe across her bottom lip.

I pulled back a fraction, feeling heat crawl up my face.

Strange. I had never felt this fire before. It was a feeling I could not describe, but I did not relish it. It made me want to look away, to snatch my words back, for I felt a fool.

But then, she did something I did not expect.

Her palm reached forward and cradled my cheek, pulling my attention back to her. Her expression was soft, as soft as I had never seen before.

“Xavir?” she insisted. “Say what?”

Though there was a gentleness to her touch, there was also strength there. A refusal to be unanswered.

She was strong, my wife. She boasted a quiet sort of strength, the kind that hid in the shadows and thrived there. And that piece of her fit perfectly against the pieces of me. All of her synchronized with all of me without either of us touching or meeting face to face before now.

Fate. It was a word I had only heard whispered in the dark, never to understand it or truly grasp its meaning until I found her.

“Tell me I am beautiful.”

There was a raw edge of vulnerability and eagerness dripping from my tongue. I despised the weakness but craved that sensation in equal measure. I did not truly know what it was to be a man, but I imagined it was something similar to this. This feeling in my chest of a need that could not be sated. Yes, I had cravings before. I had wanted the world, one that was not dark and desolate and violent.

I wanted soft kisses and the music she played.

She gave it to me in her sighs, shoulders relaxing, smile kicking up in a way that made me want to… do something to her, though I could not discern what.

“You’re beautiful, Xavir.”

I melted like molten lava from the core of a volcano into her touch, chasing it with eagerness. “You do not find me frightening?”

I almost feared her answer, but Mia chuckled, and I basked in the sound. “Of course I do. But I think the scariest, deadliest things are the most beautiful.”