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Once I’d finished, he cleared our plates and put the dishes in the sink. Then he refilled my coffee and sat down again. He spread his hands. “Ask your questions.”
I didn’t even know where to begin. “Fated mates?”
He smiled. “Gargoyles, like shifter-kind, have fated mates. We only ever get one, no matter how long we live.”
“But I’m mortal,” I said. “Well, I’m a witch, so there are ways to extend my life, but still . . .”
“I didn’t know it was possible either,” he said. “Since I was exiled from my tribe, I thought I’d never find a true mate.” He reached over and lay his hand over mine. He didn’t try to grab or hold, just touched me. “I am glad though that it is you.”
Looking down into my coffee mug, I tried to untangle my thoughts. I liked Gideon, I did, but I hadn’t known him long enough to love him. Love was something that took time to grow and develop, at least that’s what I’d always been told. I glanced up at Gideon, but he had moved to the sink to wash the dishes. He’d had a hard life, losing his brother and being exiled, and I felt like he understood me. The sex was great, and my heart beat a little faster when he was near. But this was just a crush, right? Real love didn’t happen so quickly.
Even if I did care for him, it wasn’t like my family would ever let us be together. Witches belonged with witches. The coven would never understand a witch being a fated mate. And what about this fated mate stuff? If my family wasn’t choosing my boyfriends, fate wanted to do it? I was happy by myself. I got my needs met. I licked my lips as I peered over at Gideon, who wasn’t making any attempt to glamour over his beautiful wings or the muscles of his shoulders. Warmth uncurled in my core. The sex had been amazing.
I shook myself, and took a sip of the coffee. I didn’t want to be ordered around by anyone—my family, my coven, even fate.
Gideon
I let her have time to think it all through as I scrubbed the dishes. I’d wanted to woo her a bit at a time, but I hadn’t had a choice. I’d had to get her away from that dark witch and his evil. I couldn’t get the image of him swirling his hand through the darkness around her out of my mind. He was controlling it somehow.
Fury roared up within me at this witch who thought he could control my mate, and I slammed the iron pan into the sink. The handle bent with a squeal and I jumped back. Shit. That one had been well-seasoned too.
“Gideon?” Toni asked behind me. She was so close I could feel her breath on my wings. “Are you okay?”
My whole body warmed at the concern in her voice. Maybe she did care about me, at least a little bit. I turned to her, and tried to smile. “Yes, I’m fine, Toni.”
She nodded. “Can we talk?” She gestured to the couch.
“Okay.” I left the broken pan in the sink, and followed her over. I settled down on the end that was already indented with my wings. But I couldn’t relax. Not yet. Instead, I was tense and waited.
Toni shifted in her seat. She’d brought the mug of coffee and held it between her hands.
I pulled a coaster out from one of the drawers on the coffee table and set it near her. “Do you need a warm up?”
She smiled. “Sure.”
As I fetched the coffee pot from the kitchen, I tried to figure out what I was doing. I was a gargoyle. We were known for our endless patience. But she had me on edge, worried that any moment she would flee. We were in my cabin in an isolated part of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Where exactly would she flee to?
“Thank you,” she said when I filled her mug.
I returned the pot, then perched on the edge of the couch again. Was this what it was like to have a fated mate? Was it always so nerve-wracking? I wished suddenly that I’d asked a whole lot more questions before I’d been exiled. I’d been around over a hundred years and still I felt like a newborn around Toni.
“Should I—” I asked at the same time she said, “Do I—”
“Go ahead,” I said. I watched the way the early morning sun played over her red hair, and I wanted to reach out and stroke it.
“Do I have to accept being a fated mate?” she asked.
My heart lurched. This was exactly what I’d been dreading. She was rejecting me. Dammit.
“I mean, can I say no to fate?”
“You don’t love me?” I asked, feeling like my world was crashing around me. “Or even like me?”
“It’s not that,” she said quickly. “I do like you and I could probably even come to love you with time.” She sighed. “I just don’t like being forced into things.”
I studied her. I tried to put aside my aching heart and really understand what she was saying.
“I don’t,” she said. “I have too many people telling me what to do.”
