Maid for the Gargoyle Lord (Monster Daddies #2)

Chapter 1

Winona

“You’re going to Zenith Mountain at the end of the week,” Papa’s voice echoes through our musty living room.

I look up from where I’m ironing his shirts. My back hurts because I’ve been doing housework all day. Despite being the youngest daughter of a so-called prosperous merchant, I’m treated like a maid. And not even paid any wages.

“But Zenith Mountain is where they live,” I whisper, fear streaking down my spine. “Gargoyles.”

Those monstrous, cruel creatures first appeared a few centuries ago. Using their devilish intelligence and invulnerable bodies made from stone, they overthrew the king and installed themselves as the masters of this country. Now the entire nobility is made up of mythical stone monsters.

“I’ve made a deal with one of them,” Papa replies. “Lord Avandair will have you in return for a hundred thousand kroars.”

Lord Avandair…he’s a high lord and the master of Slate Manor, the white marble gothic mansion that towers over the town.

He’s the richest noble on this side of the country.

Having made a fortune of millions in the shipping business, he lives a life of isolated luxury.

A few girls from the town go up to work at Slate Manor sometimes.

While their wages are handsome and always paid on time, they all whisper the same thing: he is terrifying.

I’ve only seen Lord Avandair once. It’s not something I’d forget. Gargoyles don’t wear any clothing, preferring to display their raw, primal strength by striding around naked.

Lord Avandair’s body was huge, a tower of stone. His wings covered a span larger than the width of Papa’s well-off home.

A year ago, I stole a glance at him when he was near the stream that I fetch water from.

The moment my gaze snagged on his fierce amber eyes, a shiver rolled down my spine.

Lord Avandair’s face was beautiful, a marvel of polished grey stone cut to the standard of masculine beauty.

With a wide jaw, grim lips, and angular cheekbones, even a single look into his eyes made my body hot with a need I couldn’t voice.

I stood there paralyzed when he lifted his lips into a devilish smirk. My eyes crept down his broad, stony shoulders, all the way down to his proudly erect cock.

I’d never seen a man’s appendage before, but I could tell that he was way bigger than any human.

It was big enough to make me feel light-headed when I saw it in all its glory.

My voice caught in my throat as strode toward me, having registered my presence. I scurried away, only to have his nail wrap around me and pull me back until my body slammed against the stone wall of his chest.

“Please let me go,” I begged. “I didn’t mean to spy on you.”

His erect member pushed against the layers of my gown, imprinting his desire between my legs.

“Are you alright, Little Butterfly?” he asked, in a voice that was gentle enough to melt away all my fear. His hard fingers caressed my cheek. I shuddered. “You’re so thin and pale. Does your family not feed you?”

His tail loosened its grip around my ankle and I bounced back, freed.

“Take this,” he said, offering me the juicy apple that rested on the palm of his hand. I’d heard that the gardens of Slate Manor were filled with orchards that produced all kinds of unbelievable fruit. The apple was golden, as big as my head.

I took it with trembling fingers because I didn’t want to incur his wrath by refusing. As I sunk my teeth into its leathery flesh, sweet juice trickling over my lips, Lord Avandair smiled at me.

“It’s delicious. I’ve never tasted anything so sweet,” I remarked, hungrily scarfing down the apple.

Papa fed me the bare minimum while he expected me to prepare feasts for him and my brothers.

We never had fruits or anything sweet though I sometimes bought myself apples at the market when I could manage it within the food budget.

“Eat slowly,” Lord Avendair said. He was intimidating but the warmth in his eyes told me he wouldn’t hurt me. “I’ll be heartbroken if you choke.”

“Thank you, my lord.” I turned around my heart racing, knowing that this creature whom people thought was cold and cruel was anything but.

“What’s your name?” I was startled at the huskiness in his tone.

His eyes changed color. From a pleasant hue to a muddy brown. The pupils were wide and black.

“Winona.”

“Winona.” His long, forked tongue darted out of his mouth, rolling the syllables of my name. Reminding me that he was a monster. “I won’t forget it. Nor will I forget what you have done to my cock.”

He stroked his proud erection in front of me, making my body burst open with emotions I had never felt before. “You’re mine, Little Butterfly,” he rasped. “My destined mate.

I did not know what the words meant but something inside me reverberated in agreement when that word spilled from his mouth. Mate. I do not understand what it means to gargoyles, not have I ever seen any gargoyle mate with a human.

Emotions danced inside me like fireflies. Need. Desire. Anticipation. Elation. They all slammed into one as the puzzling gargoyle watched me quietly until I finished my meal.

Then he flapped his powerful gray wings, creating a powerful gust that launched his body into the sky. He left me without another word.

I drop the iron now, my heart racing at the memory. “No.”

“Winona, business is hard. And those blasted gargoyles are the only ones with money. Why do you think we can’t even afford any help?” Papa makes a gruff noise, reaching for the bottles of whiskey decorating the fireplace mantle.

“If we’re so poor, you can stop drinking,” I chide.

Papa’s cold eyes narrow in fury. He grinds down his teeth.

“Quiet, little girl!” He screams, faces red with fury as he hurls a glass at me. I dodge it and it shatters against the wall. “Don’t talk back to me. Remember I was the one who raised you after that ungrateful wench who calls herself your mother abandoned us.”

Mama left us when we were young, having endured enough of Papa’s cold abuse.

I don’t blame her. I would have left a long time ago if I could.

I’ve been trying to sell the clothes I sew, hoping to become a seamstress but despite how much housework I have to do, living in a comfortable home like this wouldn’t be possible if I became a seamstress.

I rise to my feet, anger rising in my blood. Papa betrayed me. He bartered with me for money. With a gargoyle. “You sold me to monsters!” I accuse.

Papa’s eyes are weary when he looks at me. “Little girl, you have no choice. I raised you all these years and now it’s time you use the body I fed to help me.”

“Is he going to…” I swallow, afraid of completing the sentence.

The tales people tell about gargoyles in town aren’t pretty.

They’re ferocious, powerful monsters who conquered lands with their strengths, defeating and dethroning powerful kings.

Able to fly, they prefer to live away from their human subjects in high places that we can never reach.

Lord Avandair was kind to me when we met…but the desire in his eyes, the way his gaze stalked me like I was prey…what if there’s another, darker side to him?

What if he’s exactly like people describe gargoyles to be?

Cunning, scheming, using pretty words to make you let your guard down.

“If you don’t go willingly, he’ll have to take you by force,” Papa says. “Your weak body wouldn’t stand a chance against Lord Avandair’s brute strength.”

I bite my nails, hating the truth in Papa’s words. The room suddenly feels cold despite the fire burning in the fireplace.

Gargoyles are powerful, ruthless creatures. For them, their word is their bond.

If Papa promised me to a noble, they wouldn’t hesitate to carry me away by force even if I protested.

I’m already a gargoyle’s captive. There’s no escaping this fate. If I run, he’ll hunt me down. It’d be a matter of his pride.

“What will the gargoyle lord do with me?” I quiver. “What did you promise him?”

He might work me like a slave in his huge manor carved from marble. But manual labor isn’t what I’m scared of.

There are worse things that a monster could do…

“He wants you to rear his heir,” Papa replies. “Apparently, his wife is dead and the babe is still young.”

“He wants me to take care of his child?” That doesn’t sound cruel. My heart tugs in pain for the little child who has lost his mother at such a young age. Maternal instinct rises deep in me, urging me to cradle the little one in my arms.

“I can’t promise that’s all he’ll need from you.” There’s a dark shadow in Papa’s expression. “If he wants to make you his whore, that’s what you’re going to be.”

“I won’t!” I protest.

I’ve always dreamed of escaping this emotionless household. Of finding a wonderful, gentle man who treats me like I’m precious. Not like a pawn.

Papa snorts. My protests are useless. My defiance is useless.

All I can hope for is that Lord Avendair is as kind as he was a year ago.

Bringing the whiskey tumbler to his lips, Papa gives a snort. “I’m going to buy better whiskey soon…”

Anger spikes in my blood but dies down quickly. There’s no point in resenting him. He was always a selfish man.

“I will start packing then,” I say.

“Before that, there’s one more thing you must do.” Papa’s meaty fingers burrow into his pockets. He hands me a pouch of dried herbs. “Eat these herbs every day for twenty-one days until the full moon. It’s the gargoyle lord’s order.”

“What do they do?” The delicate silk pouch feels too fine in my palms. It smells of lavender and salt, reminding me of my meeting with the gargoyle lord. He didn’t smell of flowers but of musk.

“He didn’t tell me that.” Papa shakes his head. “But if you don’t take them he’ll know.”

I don’t doubt it. Gargoyles have superhuman senses. Their wrath is rumored to be vicious.

“Are they safe?” I ask again. “You’re sure I won’t die?”

“They’re just herbs, not poison.”

I undo the fine ribbon that ties the pouch together. A handful of dried herbs rests in the pouch. I pinch a handful between my fingers and swallow it with water.

The taste is sweet, not bitter like I anticipated.

My body is enveloped by lightness. It’s like I’m floating in a cloud of bliss.

Maybe these herbs are meant to make me happy so I can forget that I’m being sold to a monster.