Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
PAISLEY
Gravelly rasped words spoken by a being that shouldn’t exist freeze me in place. A combination of disbelief, horror, and terror hold my body hostage on the bench I’ve become intimately familiar with over the last few months.
A quick glance over at the pedestal confirms what my mind doesn’t want to believe. The gargoyle that sat there… is kneeling in front of me. I can barely wrap my mind around the concept. The creature in front of me is a gargoyle but… not. The position of his stone body hid several of his features from me.
His face is… interesting and definitely not human. The armored brows jutting out over the eye sockets and small horns emerging from his chin prove that along with skin colored a deep purple, eggplant is the shade that comes to mind, that merges into an inky black at the points of his body where the sheen of scales can be seen in the fading light.
I note that his hands and feet are covered in pitch-black scales, and all his digits end in wickedly sharp-looking claws. Black horns beginning at his temples curve down around the sides of his face, ending in wicked points that jut out to the side, away from his jawline. His horns appear to keep his bright silver hair out of his face, along with a few random braids here and there in the waist-length tresses.
An intricately designed leather kilt with silver stitching is wrapped around lean hips, and my eyes drift further down to observe the same digitigrade lower limbs I observed on the statue, ending in claw-tipped three-toed feet. Movement out of the corner of my eye brings my attention to his tail. It has crept closer to me, almost as if it has a mind of its own.
A huff of amusement brings my attention back to his face. My gaze caught in jade green eyes that possess a vertical pupil, like that of a… dragon.
What on earth is he?
The hand at my jaw is a whisper of touch, as if he’s afraid to jar me in my current state. I watch his other hand move methodically, with exaggerated slow motions, until it reaches my tightly clasped hands. It bemuses me that he gently begins to massage the stiffness out of my hands.
This creature, whatever he is, is showing me more care than anyone has since… well, since my brother died.
Even as terrifying as he looks, he hasn’t made a move to hurt me. It makes me relax, minutely, but my body appreciates the release of tension nonetheless. The abuse I suffered last week at the hands of men is still too close, and my body can’t handle anything else right now. If a human man could put me in this shape, what could the being in front of me do?
That thought makes me pause. This , this isn’t a man at all. He isn’t even human, so why should I judge him based off human standards? I shouldn’t assume that this creature will do me harm just because he is male.
I don’t think a human man has ever touched me as tenderly as this being is currently touching me. I allow my gaze to drop to my hands, surprised to see that they’ve completely relaxed while in his tender care. My mind is too preoccupied with gawking at him to realize he never stops soothing the rigidness out of my bloodless fingers. After several moments of silence, where he allows me to look my fill, I hear him clear his throat, as if it has been a long time since he has spoken before he repeats his initial question. “ Little female, who did this to you?”
It strikes me as odd. That is what he wants to know? Of all the things I expected him to ask, that isn’t even in the top ten. “ Why do you want to know?” I query.
“ Because , when you tell me, I am going to find the ones responsible and drain every drop of blood from their bodies!” he says, starting out softly but ending with a vicious hiss, baring impressively long fangs I missed during my initial observation of his person. His teeth are all sharp, like those of a predator.
The sudden menace he exudes causes me to jolt backwards, a groan of pain escaping me as my body protests the abrupt movement. Little sparkly lights flash everywhere I look, and my head spins with dizziness.
Did I eat today?
“ Shhh , now. Your body is battered enough as is. I did not mean to frighten you. I am sorry, little female.”
Stuttering a bit, I respond as another wave of lightheadedness hits me. “ My … my name is Paisley ,” I manage to stutter out, my tongue tripping over the words.
“ Paisley , it is nice to finally meet you. I am Laithog .”
His name is the last thing I hear before the shock and pain overwhelm me, and I pass out in a dead faint.