Page 10 of Hated By the Gargoyle

I smoothed my hand over his grainy, warm skin, like it could somehow bring him comfort. “Are you okay?”

He jerked away from me with a roar. I jumped away from him with a yell, watching as he began swatting at empty air with aggression, despite the wounds on his back. Blood sprayed on the earth beneath our feet, his wounds only opened further, and yet he could not stop.

I watched with dawning horror at the blank stare in his eyes. Like he was somewhere far away, lost. Like all he knew was to fight, defend, even if there was no longer anything in front of him.

The moment felt as terrifying as it was vulnerable, to see him so out of control and not in the present.

Would he turn those fists on me?

Fear jumpstarted my heart as I watched him become wild and untamed. His breaths were harsh, like a cornered animal searching for escape.

“Hey!” I was crazy for trying to draw his attention in my direction, but there was an uncomfortable sensation in my gut. Like I had to help him somehow, even if that meant incurring his wrath.

His head whipped in my direction and stayed there, but I could tell he wasn’t really seeing me. He had begun foaming at the corners of his mouth; more animal than man. Nothing at all like the monster who had been arguing with me only moments ago. He’d been more humanoid than. Now he was nothing but a beast.

His dark, inky hair was wild and curly over his cheeks and horns. That white eye blank, the black one unseeing.

“You’re okay now.” I held my hands up in a placating gesture, smoothing my voice in a gentler manner. “It’s dead.”

His head tilted to the side, his breathing calming a single fraction.

I tried again.

“It’s okay. We’re okay. We’re safe.”

I wasn’t sure how long it took. Minutes? Hours? I spoke to him until he eventually calmed, his whole body slumping to the ground as if he could no longer carry his own weight. Until that far away look vanished and his emotions were readable in his expression once again.

“Are you okay?” I repeated.

He made a rumbling noise and shook his head, before those bicolored eyes glared at me as if all the problems in the world had been caused by my hand.

Yup.

He was back.

“Yes,” he said deeply. “I have only had my wings mauled and am bleeding. But I am okay.”

It was hard interpreting such a monstrous expression on a face I didn’t know, but even I could tell his every word was laced with sarcasm.

I let it slide, because he was obviously in pain, and my question had been pretty stupid.

“Right. I’m sorry. Can you stand? Do you need help?” I grabbed his shoulder and tugged, causing him to groan.

A second later I felt a swat against my arm, like being hit with a thin belt. His tail hovered near me, all but shoving me away.

“I require nothing from you, feral creature.” He groaned and dug his knuckles into the ground before slowly pushing himself up. It was slow, and I couldn’t bring myself to move away from him. I held my hands out, afraid with every unsteady sway of his body. That maybe he’d face-plant on the ground and wouldn’t be able to get back up again.

“Get away.” He made a shooing motion with his bleeding hand. “You have caused enough damage.”

I rolled my eyes at his grumpiness. “I didn’t tear through you like a chicken wing, big guy.”

He grumbled and glared at me. I wasn’t sure he entirely knew what I meant, and he didn’t ask. He wobbled to his feet, taking deep breaths.

He was in pain, that much was obvious, but too proud and too stubborn to let me help.

He let out a curse in his language, I was sure. “I cannot fly,” he stated. “And I have been weakened once again. I do not have the strength to open a portal to your world.”

My heart sank, but I tried to be understanding. Of course he didn’t. He’d just gotten attacked like he was a doggy chew toy.