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Crescendo huffs, literallyhuffsatme. “Come now, Eros, I understand your heart is damned stone, that it’s been one hundred years since you interacted with the mortal world, and been centuries since your first and only mortal, but surely, you have not forgotten.”
“What the fuck are you blathering on about?”
He approaches me, still playing that tune. “Much like your symbol of the rose, humans require nurturing,nourishing. You must feed and water and tend to your mortal, lest they die.”
“Her soul is quite strong, if not the strongest I’ve encountered.”Not to mention her mouth,I mutter to myself…in more ways than one.
“Be that as it may, the flesh is weak, my Lord. And despite how she came to grace our dark world, I assume you wish to maintain her humanity for a little time.”
I stiffen. “What if I do?”
“Surely, you must treat her as a precious rose, then, my Lord?”
“I stemmed the blood of her wounds.”
He gives me a blank look.
I stalk toward him, hands balled into fists as I steel my jaw. “Know this and know it well, Cres. While I will give you lenience to do as you please with her, you willnotget attached to her. She will not be staying here long. I will get her out of my damned system…but onlyafterI break her.”
“You didn’t do that with Psyche,” he grumbles.
I snarl. “She isnotPsyche. Her soul does not echo, much less bear the insignia of my soulless wife. Back then, I was a god, and my cursed arrows worked. Now, I am but a statue wrapped in immortal god flesh. Andyouare treading on fragile ground, Cres.”
“Forgive me, my Lord,” he says as the song tapers off, but the infernal musical jester fuses into the tune of the same artist’sJar of Hearts. “But please indulge me, what will you do? If you don’t intend to keep her…?”
Locking eyes with him, I lower my chin and claim his mouth in a resolute and unyielding kiss to mirror my hell-bound determination.
“Much,” I solidify, then dismiss him.
7
The gargoyle’s kiss was everything I sought.
ARADIA
He left me.
After the kiss, with his breath feathering across my lips and practically praying for me to beg him for more, he left me.
The pain does not fade
I struggle with dry mouth, hardly remembering when I last had water. The delicate caress of my curls seems to be the only thing I feel as the rest of my body turns numb.
But not my soul.
No, my soul is more alive than ever!
A cold laugh escapes my throat. He thinks he can break me? “Bring it, gargoyle,” I practically spit, regardless of whether he can hear me. I lived with chains on my soul far worse. It would take much more to break me.
But…I might settle for a shattering.
I consider all those nights spent in seedy motel rooms during my travels, hearing the pounding and moaning from the room behind mine. How I touched myself so often, only to result in such flimsy releases and unfulfilled desires.
My first time was my best friend—as exploratory as I was—who ordered a dildo strap-on under her older brother’s account, so she could help me take my “virginity” when I was sixteen. We were unofficially girlfriends until I found my moreprofessionallady.
The gargoyle’s kiss was everything I sought.
But if that petrified pest thinks he’ll get the better of me, he’s got another thing coming.Not this time, you marble miscreant!
