Page 17 of Fated to the Gargoyle

“I don’t like the male.”

“Why not? What has he done to bother you so?”

The rain comes down on the empty lot.

“Soren.” He waits until I look at him. “I am your brother and your companion for centuries, yet you hide from me.”

I quit fighting it and point at the road that swallowed her taillights.

“Her,” I say. “I’ve found her, Sable. My mate.”

His wings lift half-open and hang there. “Truly? You’re certain?”

“Her scent is imprinted on me. Strawberries. It hit me my first day on that roof while I was locked in the stone, and I knew right then she was mine. I hadn’t even seen her face yet.” My claws curl over the roof edge. “I want nothing more than to claim her.”

“Well.” Sable grins. “That explains the windowsill.”

He takes my glare without flinching.

“I’m happy for you, brother. Truly happy.” His grin fades, and his eyes go serious. “But it means we prepare for her now, and it means you stop frustrating your mate. Or are you expecting a rejection?”

“The fear is there.” There’s no point lying to Sable. He knows me too well. “Look at me. Humans only ever had one word for what we are.”

“Look at this town.” He tips his head at the wet street below us. “Something brought her here, of all places. Fate, perhaps. She will not reject you, brother. I’m sure of it.” He pauses. “Though she might if you keep making the poor woman feel she’s losing her mind.”

I groan. “I’ll keep my distance until the time is right. But it’s difficult, Sable. The ocean was easier.”

“Then let’s make the time come sooner.” He turns toward the Shadow Bar glowing across the street. “How about we introduce ourselves to the shifters tonight and see how they take us? And while we’re at it, we let them know your mate is here and we have no intention of leaving.”

I want to follow her up that mountain road. My brother is right, though. I’ve frustrated her enough for one night, and if we’re going to make a home in this town, the shifters need to hear it from me directly.

I spread my wings and take off into the rain. Sable leaps from the roof and follows, and we bank toward the bar together. The shifters get our introductions tonight. Lamar gets his warning soon enough. I know exactly where he works.

9

SOREN

We land at the edge of the Shadow Bar’s parking lot, and neither of us moves toward the door.

The building is nothing special, a squat windowless box at the edge of town with music thumping behind its walls. The sign does all the work. Blue and purple neon spells out SHADOW above the door, and a red outline of a howling wolf flickers beneath the letters, buzzing against the drizzle.

Sable tips his head at the entrance, asking. We’ve hidden above towns like this one for centuries, and tonight we’re expected to use the front door.

The door swings open and takes the decision from us.

A wolf shifter steps out with a human woman tucked under his arm, and the story is right there in her scent, liquor and perfume over plain human. She is fated to no one, and certainly not to him.

Sable’s nostrils flare, and his wings draw in tight against his back. It doesn’t trouble me. We both know the nature of wolves. They like to mate, they enjoy it often, and many of them will not wait for the one fate promised them.

Our law is older and harder. Only my fated mate will ever touch my flesh. That vow lives in every gargoyle ever carved out of the old country, and Treasure owns mine completely whether she ever learns it or not. If she rejects me, I stand alone until I fall. There is no other woman.

The wolf catches our scent mid-stride and looks up, and the woman clutches tighter against him. His arm drops away from her fast, and the shame coming off him reaches us across the lot.

“No,” he says, stepping apart from her. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

Sable grins my way, and I answer with a knowing look and nothing else. Our reputation walked into this town ahead of us.

The woman props a hand on her hip. “Hmm. Okay. You wasn’t saying that earlier. You wasn’t saying that last night either.”