Tempest Rising (The Dragonne Library #2)

Chapter 19

Mason

The storm had passed by morning, but the forest still bore its scars. Branches hung heavy with rainwater, releasing droplets that splattered against our packs. Mud sucked at our boots with every step, forcing us to move slower than planned. The air was cool and damp, clinging to our skin and seeping into our clothes.

No one had gotten much rest. The exhaustion was etched on everyone’s faces—dark circles under eyes, slower movements, and an uncharacteristic silence among the group. I could feel my own frustration bubbling beneath the surface, but there was no point in dwelling on it now. We had to keep moving.

Tess walked ahead of me, her hair a tangle of damp waves, unruly but somehow still beautiful. The rain hadn’t let up, leaving her clothes clinging to her form and her boots squelching softly against the muddy trail. Even soaked to the bone, she carried herself with a quiet resilience that made it hard to look away, as though the storm itself had no power over her.

The narrow mountain path we followed twisted along the steep slope, bordered on one side by jagged rock walls and on the other by a sheer drop that disappeared into a sea of fog. It wasn’t a cliff exactly, but the incline was steep enough to make a misstep dangerous. Loose stones scattered beneath our boots, and the scent of wet earth and pine filled the air. I kept a few paces behind her, every instinct in me tuned to her movements, ready to catch her if she slipped.

I caught myself staring. Again.

Her golden-brown eyes flicked to mine over her shoulder, questioning but amused, as if she could read my thoughts. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of her lips, and my pulse quickened in response. Heat crept up my neck, and I turned away quickly, pretending to adjust the strap on my pack, though my fingers fumbled against the buckle.

She’s my mate, the voice of the gargoyle rumbled in the back of my mind, low and insistent. Ours. Why do you hesitate? “Because now isn’t the time,” I muttered under my breath, tightening the strap more than necessary. My tone carried a bite, but the gargoyle didn’t care. It never did.

Every moment without the bond leaves her vulnerable. She’s safer if she knows. If she’s ours.

“Safe is all that matters,” I hissed, keeping my voice low enough that no one else would hear.

The beast’s growl vibrated through my mind, a low thrum of discontent. Its possessiveness grated on my nerves, but it wasn’t entirely wrong. Every instinct I had screamed that Tess was the missing part of me. But that wasn’t my decision to make. Tess had enough to deal with without me adding to her burdens.

She’s stronger than she knows. That’s why she’s ours.

“Careful,” I said gruffly when her boot slipped in the mud. My hand shot out to steady her, brushing against her arm. Her skin was warm despite the chill in the air, and the faint citrusy scent of her soap lingered, fresh and grounding.

“Thanks,” she said, her voice soft and a little breathless. She looked up at me, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of us. The warmth of her gaze, the curve of her lips—it was enough to make my chest tighten.

I stepped back quickly, muttering something about keeping pace. Her expression flickered with something I couldn’t quite read before she turned back to the trail.

Raze sidled up next to me not long after, his smirk firmly in place. “You’re staring again.”

I shoved past him, muttering, “Mind your own business,” under my breath. My focus sharpened as I moved forward, my senses on high alert. The forest was unnervingly quiet, the kind of silence that crawled under your skin and refused to let go. Every creak of a branch, every rustle of unseen movement made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

The path ahead opened into a small clearing, but it was far from comforting. The edge dropped off sharply into a steep ravine, the kind that promised a long, unforgiving tumble if you weren’t careful. Shadows from the canopy above stretched and twisted across the uneven ground, their shapes shifting with the faint breeze that stirred the leaves.

“Something’s nearby,” Raze muttered, his voice low and taut, like a drawn bowstring ready to snap. His usually confident demeanor was edged with tension, a sure sign that whatever was out there wasn’t small or friendly. “Big. And pissed.”

Kane’s hand instinctively went to the hilt of his knife, the single, pitiful weapon the Guild had allowed him for this gods-forsaken trial. His sharp gaze flicked around the dense forest, scanning for any sign of movement. “How close?” His words were clipped, but his tone betrayed a readiness that sent a chill through me.

“Close enough,” Raze growled, his shoulders coiling tight like a predator ready to strike. “It’s circling us.”

Every muscle in my body coiled tight as I stepped closer to Tess, my fingers curling into fists. The instinct hit me fast and hard, the gargoyle in me surging forward with a single, primal urge— Protect her. Shield her. Keep her safe.

The first warning was a low rumble, barely audible over the wind. Then a bear burst through the underbrush. It was a monstrous sight—easily ten feet tall when it reared up on its hind legs, its hulking frame covered in matted fur that shimmered unnaturally under the faint light. Its eyes glowed an eerie crimson, like embers in a dying fire. Foam dripped from its gaping maw, its teeth long and jagged, and the way it moved—jerky, almost puppet-like—sent a chill racing down my spine.

“Shit!” Tess yelped, stumbling back, her wide golden-brown eyes locking onto the beast.

“It’s bespelled,” Kane shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos like a blade. “Valen’s work, no doubt.”

I moved without thinking. I stepped in front of her, my body a wall between her and the beast. “Stay back!” I growled over my shoulder, my voice roughened by the stone-like tension in my throat.

The bear charged, and I braced myself, letting my gargoyle side take over. My transformation was instant, instinctive. My skin darkened and thickened, hardening into a rugged, stone-like surface that gleamed faintly in the moonlight. My claws extended, sharp and deadly, curving from my fingertips. My wings erupted from my back with a sound like cracking rock, their span wide enough to cast shadows across the clearing. Jagged ridges formed along my arms and shoulders, adding to my already imposing frame, and my face contorted with a feral snarl, my teeth sharpening into predatory fangs.

I roared, the sound rumbling deep from my chest. The bear didn’t hesitate—it barreled toward me with raw, animal fury. I surged forward to meet it, stone meeting flesh in a thunderous collision. Its claws raked down my chest, but the hardened surface of my skin deflected the blow, leaving only shallow scrapes. The force of its charge sent tremors up my spine, but I planted my feet, anchoring myself like living bedrock. I wouldn’t move. I couldn’t move—not while she was behind me.

Raze was at my side in seconds, his partially shifted form a terrifying blend of man and beast. Clawed hands slashed through the bear’s flank with brutal efficiency, each movement a testament to his raw power. On the other side, Kane darted in, his movements sharp and calculated. He wielded his Guild-issued knife with precision, though it was pitifully small against a creature this massive.

Even with the three of us working together, the fight was brutal. The bear’s strength was unnatural, and the magic driving it made it relentless. I grappled with it, feeling its claws scrape against my hardened skin as its snarling maw snapped inches from my face. The coppery tang of blood filled the air, making my senses sharper, more focused.

“Tess!” I called, sparing a glance over my shoulder. She stood frozen, her hand clutching a rock, her face pale but determined. She didn’t move toward the fight—thank the gods—but her wide eyes stayed locked on me. The sight of her, so vulnerable yet so resolute, sent a fresh surge of strength through me.

My claws sank deeper into the bear’s side, and with a guttural snarl, I threw my weight against it, forcing it to stumble. Raze took the opening, his claws tearing into its back, while Kane— blade glinting—lunged low, slicing at the back of its knees. The knife wasn’t enough to sever the tendons completely, but it was enough to destabilize the beast for a crucial moment.

That moment was all we needed. Together, we brought it down. My weight pinned it in place as Kane plunged his knife into its throat, and Raze delivered the killing blow, his claws raking across its jugular.

“Aah!” Tess’s voice ripped through the post-battle stillness. The sharp edge of her cry pierced the air, sending a jolt of dread coursing through me. My heart plummeted as I whipped around, every instinct screaming that something was terribly, horribly wrong.

The ground beneath her feet had given way. The path, already weakened by the chaos of the bear’s rampage, crumbled in chunks, dragging Tess with it. She tumbled down the steep mountainside, her figure rolling uncontrollably as dirt, rocks, and loose branches followed in her wake.

“Tess!” I shouted, my voice raw, but the distance between us grew as gravity pulled her further down. She struggled to grab hold of anything, her fingers clawing at the earth for purchase, but the slope was relentless. Her momentum only stopped when her body collided hard with a tree, the impact wrenching a pained cry from her lips.

I didn’t hesitate. My wings snapped open, catching the air as I leapt off the edge of the trail. The world narrowed to a singular focus: getting to her. The rush of wind against my face was nothing compared to the pounding in my chest as I angled my descent.

Reaching her felt like an eternity. When I landed, my boots crunching against the loose debris, she was slumped against the tree, clutching her side. Her breathing was shallow, her face pale, streaked with dirt and pain. Blood seeped from a gash on her temple and a jagged tear along her forearm.

“Tess,” I said, my voice low and urgent as I crouched beside her. Her golden-brown eyes fluttered open, unfocused at first, before recognition lit them. Relief washed over her face even as she winced.

“Mason,” she rasped, her voice barely audible. “I’m—I’m okay.”

“You’re not okay,” I said, my tone firmer than I intended, though the sight of her hurt twisted something deep inside me. Carefully, I slipped my arms beneath her, cradling her against my chest. She hissed through her teeth as I moved her, and guilt stabbed me, but I knew we couldn’t stay here.

“I’ve got you, Tess,” I murmured, my wings spreading wide. With a powerful beat, I lifted us both into the air, the ground falling away as I carried her back toward the trail. Her body was warm and fragile against mine, and I fought the surge of protectiveness threatening to overwhelm me.

When we landed, the others rushed toward us, their expressions a mix of alarm and urgency. But I didn’t let go of her. Not yet. Not until I was sure she was safe.

“Let me see,” I growled, my hands trembling as I reached for her. I hesitated for a split second, afraid of hurting her further, but the sight of the blood seeping through her shirt pushed me forward. Gently, I pressed my palm against her uninjured shoulder to steady her, the other hand carefully examining the wound.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Tess said, though her voice wavered. She tried to sit up, but I stopped her with a low, protective growl that made her eyes widen.

“Stay still,” I ordered, more gruffly than I intended. My fingers worked quickly, carefully tearing the fabric around the wound to get a better look. The cuts were deep, but not life-threatening. Still, the sight of her blood on my hands made something in me snap.

Ours. The gargoyle’s voice rumbled in the back of my mind, as insistent as ever. Ours. Protect her. Claim her. Now.

“Tess,” I whispered, my voice hoarse. Her name felt different on my tongue—heavier, more desperate. My gaze locked on hers, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. Her lips parted slightly, a soft breath escaping as her golden-brown eyes searched mine.

I wanted to kiss her. Gods, I wanted it more than anything. The gargoyle in me roared for it, demanded it. But this wasn’t the time. Not like this—not when she was hurt and vulnerable.

Not yet.

I clenched my fists, forcing myself to pull back. The tension in my chest was almost unbearable, a physical ache that spread through my entire body. The gargoyle growled in protest, but I pushed it down, focusing on Tess instead.

“I’ll carry her,” I said, my voice rough as I turned to Kane and Raze, who stood nearby. “We need to get moving. Now.”

Kane nodded sharply, already packing up the supplies with his usual efficiency. Raze, for once, didn’t have a smirk or a joke. His sharp eyes flicked to Tess, then back to me, and he gave a quick, understanding nod.

Tess tried to protest as I slid my arms beneath her, lifting her as gently as I could. “Mason, I can—”

“Stop,” I growled, my voice leaving no room for argument. “You’re not walking. End of discussion.”

Her lips pressed together in a thin line, but she didn’t argue further. Instead, she rested her head against my chest, her soft breaths brushing against my skin. The warmth of her body, even through the chill of the morning, seeped into me, grounding me in a way I hadn’t expected.

The forest path blurred as we moved. I was hyper-aware of every sound, every rustle of leaves, every shift of the wind. My senses were on high alert, the gargoyle in me ready to strike at the first sign of another threat. But more than that, I was hyper-aware of Tess. The way her fingers curled lightly against my chest. The soft, citrusy scent of her hair. The steady rise and fall of her breathing as she finally began to relax in my arms.

Mine.

It wasn’t just the gargoyle speaking anymore. It was me—every part of me, human and gargoyle alike. Tess wasn’t just someone I wanted to protect. She was someone I wanted to hold, to keep safe, to share every part of my life with.

But I knew better than to act on those feelings. Not yet.

For now, I’d settle for this—for keeping her close, for making sure she was safe. That was all that mattered. The rest could wait. It had to.

Mason

The storm had passed by morning, but the forest still bore its scars. Branches hung heavy with rainwater, releasing droplets that splattered against our packs. Mud sucked at our boots with every step, forcing us to move slower than planned. The air was cool and damp, clinging to our skin and seeping into our clothes.

No one had gotten much rest. The exhaustion was etched on everyone’s faces—dark circles under eyes, slower movements, and an uncharacteristic silence among the group. I could feel my own frustration bubbling beneath the surface, but there was no point in dwelling on it now. We had to keep moving.

Tess walked ahead of me, her hair a tangle of damp waves, unruly but somehow still beautiful. The rain hadn’t let up, leaving her clothes clinging to her form and her boots squelching softly against the muddy trail. Even soaked to the bone, she carried herself with a quiet resilience that made it hard to look away, as though the storm itself had no power over her.

The narrow mountain path we followed twisted along the steep slope, bordered on one side by jagged rock walls and on the other by a sheer drop that disappeared into a sea of fog. It wasn’t a cliff exactly, but the incline was steep enough to make a misstep dangerous. Loose stones scattered beneath our boots, and the scent of wet earth and pine filled the air. I kept a few paces behind her, every instinct in me tuned to her movements, ready to catch her if she slipped.

I caught myself staring. Again.

Her golden-brown eyes flicked to mine over her shoulder, questioning but amused, as if she could read my thoughts. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of her lips, and my pulse quickened in response. Heat crept up my neck, and I turned away quickly, pretending to adjust the strap on my pack, though my fingers fumbled against the buckle.

She’s my mate, the voice of the gargoyle rumbled in the back of my mind, low and insistent. Ours. Why do you hesitate? “Because now isn’t the time,” I muttered under my breath, tightening the strap more than necessary. My tone carried a bite, but the gargoyle didn’t care. It never did.

Every moment without the bond leaves her vulnerable. She’s safer if she knows. If she’s ours.

“Safe is all that matters,” I hissed, keeping my voice low enough that no one else would hear.

The beast’s growl vibrated through my mind, a low thrum of discontent. Its possessiveness grated on my nerves, but it wasn’t entirely wrong. Every instinct I had screamed that Tess was the missing part of me. But that wasn’t my decision to make. Tess had enough to deal with without me adding to her burdens.

She’s stronger than she knows. That’s why she’s ours.

“Careful,” I said gruffly when her boot slipped in the mud. My hand shot out to steady her, brushing against her arm. Her skin was warm despite the chill in the air, and the faint citrusy scent of her soap lingered, fresh and grounding.

“Thanks,” she said, her voice soft and a little breathless. She looked up at me, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of us. The warmth of her gaze, the curve of her lips—it was enough to make my chest tighten.

I stepped back quickly, muttering something about keeping pace. Her expression flickered with something I couldn’t quite read before she turned back to the trail.

Raze sidled up next to me not long after, his smirk firmly in place. “You’re staring again.”

I shoved past him, muttering, “Mind your own business,” under my breath. My focus sharpened as I moved forward, my senses on high alert. The forest was unnervingly quiet, the kind of silence that crawled under your skin and refused to let go. Every creak of a branch, every rustle of unseen movement made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

The path ahead opened into a small clearing, but it was far from comforting. The edge dropped off sharply into a steep ravine, the kind that promised a long, unforgiving tumble if you weren’t careful. Shadows from the canopy above stretched and twisted across the uneven ground, their shapes shifting with the faint breeze that stirred the leaves.

“Something’s nearby,” Raze muttered, his voice low and taut, like a drawn bowstring ready to snap. His usually confident demeanor was edged with tension, a sure sign that whatever was out there wasn’t small or friendly. “Big. And pissed.”

Kane’s hand instinctively went to the hilt of his knife, the single, pitiful weapon the Guild had allowed him for this gods-forsaken trial. His sharp gaze flicked around the dense forest, scanning for any sign of movement. “How close?” His words were clipped, but his tone betrayed a readiness that sent a chill through me.

“Close enough,” Raze growled, his shoulders coiling tight like a predator ready to strike. “It’s circling us.”

Every muscle in my body coiled tight as I stepped closer to Tess, my fingers curling into fists. The instinct hit me fast and hard, the gargoyle in me surging forward with a single, primal urge— Protect her. Shield her. Keep her safe.

The first warning was a low rumble, barely audible over the wind. Then a bear burst through the underbrush. It was a monstrous sight—easily ten feet tall when it reared up on its hind legs, its hulking frame covered in matted fur that shimmered unnaturally under the faint light. Its eyes glowed an eerie crimson, like embers in a dying fire. Foam dripped from its gaping maw, its teeth long and jagged, and the way it moved—jerky, almost puppet-like—sent a chill racing down my spine.

“Shit!” Tess yelped, stumbling back, her wide golden-brown eyes locking onto the beast.

“It’s bespelled,” Kane shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos like a blade. “Valen’s work, no doubt.”

I moved without thinking. I stepped in front of her, my body a wall between her and the beast. “Stay back!” I growled over my shoulder, my voice roughened by the stone-like tension in my throat.

The bear charged, and I braced myself, letting my gargoyle side take over. My transformation was instant, instinctive. My skin darkened and thickened, hardening into a rugged, stone-like surface that gleamed faintly in the moonlight. My claws extended, sharp and deadly, curving from my fingertips. My wings erupted from my back with a sound like cracking rock, their span wide enough to cast shadows across the clearing. Jagged ridges formed along my arms and shoulders, adding to my already imposing frame, and my face contorted with a feral snarl, my teeth sharpening into predatory fangs.

I roared, the sound rumbling deep from my chest. The bear didn’t hesitate—it barreled toward me with raw, animal fury. I surged forward to meet it, stone meeting flesh in a thunderous collision. Its claws raked down my chest, but the hardened surface of my skin deflected the blow, leaving only shallow scrapes. The force of its charge sent tremors up my spine, but I planted my feet, anchoring myself like living bedrock. I wouldn’t move. I couldn’t move—not while she was behind me.

Raze was at my side in seconds, his partially shifted form a terrifying blend of man and beast. Clawed hands slashed through the bear’s flank with brutal efficiency, each movement a testament to his raw power. On the other side, Kane darted in, his movements sharp and calculated. He wielded his Guild- issued knife with precision, though it was pitifully small against a creature this massive.

Even with the three of us working together, the fight was brutal. The bear’s strength was unnatural, and the magic driving it made it relentless. I grappled with it, feeling its claws scrape against my hardened skin as its snarling maw snapped inches from my face. The coppery tang of blood filled the air, making my senses sharper, more focused.

“Tess!” I called, sparing a glance over my shoulder. She stood frozen, her hand clutching a rock, her face pale but determined. She didn’t move toward the fight—thank the gods—but her wide eyes stayed locked on me. The sight of her, so vulnerable yet so resolute, sent a fresh surge of strength through me.

My claws sank deeper into the bear’s side, and with a guttural snarl, I threw my weight against it, forcing it to stumble. Raze took the opening, his claws tearing into its back, while Kane—blade glinting—lunged low, slicing at the back of its knees. The knife wasn’t enough to sever the tendons completely, but it was enough to destabilize the beast for a crucial moment.

That moment was all we needed. Together, we brought it down. My weight pinned it in place as Kane plunged his knife into its throat, and Raze delivered the killing blow, his claws raking across its jugular.

“Aah!” Tess’s voice ripped through the post-battle stillness. The sharp edge of her cry pierced the air, sending a jolt of dread coursing through me. My heart plummeted as I whipped around, every instinct screaming that something was terribly, horribly wrong.

The ground beneath her feet had given way. The path, already weakened by the chaos of the bear’s rampage, crumbled in chunks, dragging Tess with it. She tumbled down the steep mountainside, her figure rolling uncontrollably as dirt, rocks, and loose branches followed in her wake.

“Tess!” I shouted, my voice raw, but the distance between us grew as gravity pulled her further down. She struggled to grab hold of anything, her fingers clawing at the earth for purchase, but the slope was relentless. Her momentum only stopped when her body collided hard with a tree, the impact wrenching a pained cry from her lips.

I didn’t hesitate. My wings snapped open, catching the air as I leapt off the edge of the trail. The world narrowed to a singular focus: getting to her. The rush of wind against my face was nothing compared to the pounding in my chest as I angled my descent.

Reaching her felt like an eternity. When I landed, my boots crunching against the loose debris, she was slumped against the tree, clutching her side. Her breathing was shallow, her face pale, streaked with dirt and pain. Blood seeped from a gash on her temple and a jagged tear along her forearm.

“Tess,” I said, my voice low and urgent as I crouched beside her. Her golden-brown eyes fluttered open, unfocused at first, before recognition lit them. Relief washed over her face even as she winced.

“Mason,” she rasped, her voice barely audible. “I’m—I’m okay.”

“You’re not okay,” I said, my tone firmer than I intended, though the sight of her hurt twisted something deep inside me. Carefully, I slipped my arms beneath her, cradling her against my chest. She hissed through her teeth as I moved her, and guilt stabbed me, but I knew we couldn’t stay here.

“I’ve got you, Tess,” I murmured, my wings spreading wide. With a powerful beat, I lifted us both into the air, the ground falling away as I carried her back toward the trail. Her body was warm and fragile against mine, and I fought the surge of protectiveness threatening to overwhelm me.

When we landed, the others rushed toward us, their expressions a mix of alarm and urgency. But I didn’t let go of her. Not yet. Not until I was sure she was safe.

“Let me see,” I growled, my hands trembling as I reached for her. I hesitated for a split second, afraid of hurting her further, but the sight of the blood seeping through her shirt pushed me forward. Gently, I pressed my palm against her uninjured shoulder to steady her, the other hand carefully examining the wound.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Tess said, though her voice wavered. She tried to sit up, but I stopped her with a low, protective growl that made her eyes widen.

“Stay still,” I ordered, more gruffly than I intended. My fingers worked quickly, carefully tearing the fabric around the wound to get a better look. The cuts were deep, but not life-threatening. Still, the sight of her blood on my hands made something in me snap.

Ours. The gargoyle’s voice rumbled in the back of my mind, as insistent as ever. Ours. Protect her. Claim her. Now.

“Tess,” I whispered, my voice hoarse. Her name felt different on my tongue—heavier, more desperate. My gaze locked on hers, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. Her lips parted slightly, a soft breath escaping as her golden-brown eyes searched mine.

I wanted to kiss her. Gods, I wanted it more than anything. The gargoyle in me roared for it, demanded it. But this wasn’t the time. Not like this—not when she was hurt and vulnerable.

Not yet.

I clenched my fists, forcing myself to pull back. The tension in my chest was almost unbearable, a physical ache that spread through my entire body. The gargoyle growled in protest, but I pushed it down, focusing on Tess instead.

“I’ll carry her,” I said, my voice rough as I turned to Kane and Raze, who stood nearby. “We need to get moving. Now.”

Kane nodded sharply, already packing up the supplies with his usual efficiency. Raze, for once, didn’t have a smirk or a joke. His sharp eyes flicked to Tess, then back to me, and he gave a quick, understanding nod.

Tess tried to protest as I slid my arms beneath her, lifting her as gently as I could. “Mason, I can—”

“Stop,” I growled, my voice leaving no room for argument. “You’re not walking. End of discussion.”

Her lips pressed together in a thin line, but she didn’t argue further. Instead, she rested her head against my chest, her soft breaths brushing against my skin. The warmth of her body, even through the chill of the morning, seeped into me, grounding me in a way I hadn’t expected.

The forest path blurred as we moved. I was hyper-aware of every sound, every rustle of leaves, every shift of the wind. My senses were on high alert, the gargoyle in me ready to strike at the first sign of another threat. But more than that, I was hyper-aware of Tess. The way her fingers curled lightly against my chest. The soft, citrusy scent of her hair. The steady rise and fall of her breathing as she finally began to relax in my arms.

Mine.

It wasn’t just the gargoyle speaking anymore. It was me—every part of me, human and gargoyle alike. Tess wasn’t just someone I wanted to protect. She was someone I wanted to hold, to keep safe, to share every part of my life with.

But I knew better than to act on those feelings. Not yet.

For now, I’d settle for this—for keeping her close, for making sure she was safe. That was all that mattered. The rest could wait. It had to.