Page 24 of Hated By the Gargoyle

I swallowed past the lump of nerves in my throat at the sight.

I’d only wanted to be comfortable and warm, to get out of his nest, and he was staring at me like I’d committed a sin.

I expected the anger.

The explosion.

I braced myself for it.

What I hadn’t expected was the slow slump of his shoulders in what appeared to be… resignation?

A deep, rumbling sound expelled from his lips. Then I watched as he transformed into something akin to a predator. He stood up, dropping his stick into the fire until it was consumed by the flames. He prowled towards me, his wings snapping against his back. He came closer… and closer still. Until he was close enough to touch, to smell.

The scent of smoke and embers from the fireplace, but something warmer enveloped him.

My nose brushed against his chest and I looked up.

For the first time, I felt breathless in his presence. For the first time I noticed the shadows of his pectorals and how they made a smooth transition down his abdomen. I counted his scars–there were far too many–and inhaled deep enough that something foreign stirred inside me…

Qanek stood over me, glaring down. I tried not to flinch when he moved, but jerked anyway. But he didn’t reach out and touch me. He reached behind me, bending to press the lid of the chest closed.

The action made our noses touch. It made me breathe him in. And for a second, we both paused as our eyes met. Something charged in the air between us, something that made every hair on my arms stand on end…

Then he was standing, looming before me in his full height and staring down at me.

“You are far too curious, feral creature,” he rumbled.

I swallowed the sudden thickness in my throat.

“D-did I do something wrong?”

“Many things,” he answered. “I held hope we could avoid this outcome, but now there is no choice. For either of us. And this is something we must learn to accept.”

My brows pulled together in confusion. “What are you talking about, Qanek?”

He let out a breath and I felt his touch before I saw him move. He gripped my chin, so careful with his claws, and held my gaze firm against his.

The intensity I found there was jarring. I didn’t know what to do. How to react in the face of this newness.

I was used to him screaming. Storming around.

Not… whatever this was.

It made a low ache build in my belly, where butterflies erupted to the point of nausea.

I tried to breathe, but couldn’t find the air when it was saturated with his scent instead.

“You are my wife now, Lucero.” His claw traced the seam of my lips before it found the curve of my cheek. “There is no turning back.”

The words registered, taking me completely by surprise. I jerked away, out of his hold, though I missed his warmth as soon as it was gone.

“W-what are you talking about? Wife? I… No. Carlota is your wife.”

The stone ridges of his brow cut a striking figure. “How I wish that were true,” he stated simply. “And yet it was you who completed every step in the mating ritual. Almost every step.”

It seemed to happen in slow motion. His hands reached to the sides of his hips, where the strings that held his loincloth together were tied.

“One more bond must be formed.” He pulled at a string. “One more, and you will be my true wife.” Another and the cloth dropped…