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“I would turn back to stone.”

“For how long?”

“Probably about forty years.”

“Forty years!” I gasp. “Please don’t do that! I’ll be sixty-four when you finally wake.”

He smiles.

“What are you smiling at?”

“I’m picturing you at sixty-four. You look gorgeous.”

“Awww. Really? Not too much gray hair?”

“That’s the best part, Ravena. And the lines around your eyes and mouth. They deepen your smile. It’s stunning.”

He’s quite sweet for a killer gargoyle.

“Please don’t turn to stone,” I say with my cheeks blushing. “We’ll figure this out.”

“Can we figure this out over a hot meal?” he asks, his stomach suddenly rumbling. “I’m starving. Waking up from stone leaves you quite famished.”

“We can eat,” I say. “There are some good places in town.”

“I ate at The Silver Bell Tavern years ago,” he says. “It was pleasing to the taste. I would like to take you there.”

“Oh,” I say, remembering the way the orc owner Rufus was glaring at me this morning. “You know, now that you mention it, I’ve heard bad things about that tavern. It’s so hard to get a table and the floor is always sticky. I’m not sure it’s passed its cleanliness review from the department of—Oh okay!”

He just grabs me, wrapping his arms around my body, and leaps off the tower. I squeeze my eyes shut, swallow my scream, and cling to him as we dive down at an insane speed. The wind whips my hair around. My stomach is in my throat as we plummet down.

Finally, his wings spread out and we get yanked to a stop. After he touches down in the middle of the Market Square, he gently lowers me to my feet.

“Thank you,” I say, shaky all over. I look around and the townspeople barely give us a second glance, although I do catch a few of the older women checking out Tharion. They’re sitting outside of the yarn shop, whispering and giggling.

“Oh,” I say when I see what they’re giggling at. His… little rock is on full display. My cheeks get hot when I see it. God of the Sea that thing is long.

“Tharion,” I whisper. “Maybe we should get you some pants before we eat.”

He looks down and immediately covers his lower half with his wings. “That would be wise.”

I have a few copper coins stuffed into my shoe, so I buy him some beige pants at a stall and he slips them on.

“Do you need a shirt?” the old man at the stall asks.

“Do you have any for gargoyles?” I ask, shocked that he would have that in stock. I mean, it’s not every day that you see gargoyles in town. I think I’ve seen two or three in my whole life. Like Tharion said, they like to stick to themselves.

“No, but I have one designed for a winged demon that may fit.”

He holds up a white shirt and I look at Tharion for his reaction. “Want to try it on?”

“Sure,” he says with a shrug. I help him into it, doing the buttons around his wings. His tail wraps around my leg, sliding up it gently as I try to adjust the shirt.

I giggle when it tickles my thigh.

“What is it?” Tharion asks. “Do I look foolish?”

“No,” I quickly say. “It’s just your tail again.”