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I hear nothing but the twilight’s silence and the flap of a bird’s wings.
I run up the steps to the administrative building’s door, but strong fingers grip my shoulder. My attacker’s short, broken nails dig into the skin exposed by my shirt’s open neckline, and I’m yanked back hard.
A scream is knocked out of me as I land face-first on the cobblestone. Instinctively curling into the fetal position, I touch something hot and sticky. I’m too scared to check my fingers. I know it’s my blood. My vision is blurry, but I shouldn’t close my eyes.
Instead, I cover my face with my arms and wait to be hurt, but nothing comes. All I hear is the powerful flap of wings far too big to belong to a bird and far too close to make sense.
“Holy shit… Wh… what the fuck are you? A fuckin’ monster… holy shit. A fuckin’ monster…” It’s my attacker’s voice, but now, it’s a pathetic whine. It sounds like he might be crying. He sniffles as he stammers out, “Sorry… sorry. Holy shit… A monster, a fucking monster!”
I think I must’ve severely hurt myself. I don’t know if what I’m hearing is real or just pre-concussion delusions. My head is swimming, and with the side of my face pressed to the ground, I feel the cool stone jolt beneath my cheek, as if a very heavy object has crash-landed in the courtyard.
“Do not touch her!” a deep, rocky growl fills the air and shakes the buildings. The words are jagged and unyielding.
I hear the sound of my attacker’s footsteps racing away, then his strangled scream and, finally, silence.
I wait as long as I can—several minutes at least, but I can’t be certain, as my head is throbbing and I struggle to keep my eyes open—until the ground shakes beneath me once again and my curiosity gets the best of me. I drop my arms from my face just enough to see who or what has saved me.
A large shadow is moving toward me.
I try to sit, pushing up with my palms against the cobblestone. My arms waver, feeling like they have no bones, and I struggle to keep myself aloft as I see dark, powerful legs.
“Don’t get up,” the shadow commands, this time softer, like the turning of fine gravel in a tumbler. As the figure moves closer, all I see is gray, and I can’t be sure if my eyes are open or closed.
This can't be real.
Hands, warm and so unbelievably strong, slip beneath my knees and lower back, and suddenly, I’m no longer feeling the biting press of the uneven stones on my broken body—just the chill twilight air and solid arms holding me.
He can’t be real.
My head spins, my vision blurs.I can’t keep my eyes open long enough to be sure, but as my mind goes black, I think I know who my savior is.
Chapter3
COLOSSUS
My star is small in my arms, her gentle curves as fragile as glass as I loop a forearm under her knees and cradle her head with my claws. I worry that if I were to hold her any tighter, she might shatter into a million, shining pieces, yet I can’t loosen my grip. Her soft skin is meant to be snug against my leathery hide; her small puffs of breath were destined to warm me. If there was any uncertainty left as to who or what my drive to protect was for, it has vanished.
And I almost didn’t get to her in time.
My chest nearly cracks open at the thought of what could’ve happened. I was so close to failing Sunny/Daisy/Dawn.I need to know her real name. I will beg for forgiveness for my mistake.
Slowly, making sure to control the flapping of my wings so as not to jostle her, I fly up from the courtyard to the bell tower.
It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.
I didn’t fly to her window last night because I wanted to ease her into me, show her all that I will offer her. I shouldn’t have the blood of her attacker on me when I tell her I’m fated to protect her. But it’s too late, and I can’t be angry about our meeting.
The tough skin around my upturned fangs pulls into a new position—a smile. It hurts.
I land six stories up on the bell tower, releasing a string of curses under my breath as I survey my surroundings.
Nothing is ready.
The pillows and blankets I’d started collecting from the other residences after last night are in disarray. The stack of books I pulled from the library are still missing a shelf to sit on. I was able to gather some art supplies from one of the studios with an unlocked window, and I found a broken potter’s wheel near a dumpster that, with her help, I know I can repair. But I need at least another day to get ready.
I carry my ward toward the belfry in the center of the tower, the open arched structure that houses the now-defunct bell. Her delicate eyelids are closed and her round lips pursed tightly as she snuggles against me. One hand squeezes my bicep as she pulls herself in closer to me.
“I’ve got you, my star.” I’m more comfortable with smiling on my second attempt. “You’re safe.”
