Epilogue
BAEZAL - FIVE YEARS LATER
The heavy padlock glistens in the setting sun.
Thick, iron chains drag the leather bag deep below the dark waves. It doesn’t take long for it to disappear from view. The contents and the shackles are heavy enough to drag it into the sea. Salty air coats my tongue, tempered only by the scent of lavender.
Willow is beside me. The brackish wind blows her dark hair behind her.
The soft strands tangle in my scales. Her breasts rest atop my forearms as I hold her from behind.
I always need her but especially in this moment.
We haven’t spent a day apart since the curse broke.
Each day we find a new way to love each other. The depth of our desire never wanes.
The shackles of the past have been broken. Anyone who sought to cage us has now been dealt with.
As we stand and watch the body of the True Blessed Father sink below the water, I feel a sense of peace wash over me.
I would’ve been happy never getting my revenge.
Life with Willow is sweet enough to forget all the horrors I endured.
However, in the end, I could not let him draw breath.
It weighed on me, especially with the knowledge that no other gargoyles had been freed from their stone prisons.
He had to pay, but I had to be smart about it.
It took some time to devise a plan. The journey to his remote monastery nearly took half a year.
Though that could be because Willow and I stopped to make a home in every village we travelled through.
I swear there isn’t a town anywhere along the coastline where I haven't made her come.
In the snow, on beaches, deep in The Woods with the stars and animals as our witnesses, I have claimed her thoroughly in each differing terrain.
Once we arrived at the monastery, we had to be smart.
The True Blessed Father wielded dark magic.
Had I known the full extent of his power, I wouldn’t have been so quick to barter away some of Willow’s favorite jewels to that bastard demon of The Woods.
Even as I think it, I realize there isn’t a sum I wouldn’t give or a deal I wouldn’t make for Willow’s immortality.
As the years turned, and I watched the subtle changes in her, I knew I couldn’t lose her—not to something as simple as time. Seeking out the demon had been easy enough. He wasn’t nearly as frightening as the stories of him portrayed.
Especially not when his human mate encouraged him to be nice during our meeting.
She and Willow had chatted animatedly, and I caught the demon’s wistful stare at his mate more times than I’m sure he wanted me to.
His mate had been pregnant with their child, and it made me wonder what Willow would look like carrying ours.
I was not ready to share her with anyone just yet. One day, though, it would be nice to hold a product of our love. No matter what that child would look like, it would surely be just as perfect as its mother.
When the body does not rise in some act of God from the water, Willow leans fully back against my chest, breathing deep. He’s gone—that final ghost of the past laid to rest. Staring out at the dark waves, a flash of white catches my eye. Willow gasps, immediately snapping forward to attention.
The small sailboat rocks us gently on the waves.
Our dutiful captain is away, paid handsomely to not ask questions about what we brought on board and why we needed to dump it this far from shore.
After this, we were heading south, to the land of white sand beaches and limestone castles with towers reaching into the clouds.
After we have our fill of the beach, we could travel to the snowy mountains and keep ourselves warm by the fire all day. My cock kicks to life at the idea, pressing firmly against Willow’s backside. She is too entranced by the figure in the water to notice my hardening flesh.
I wrap my cloak around us, sparing her exposed skin from the harsh wind. It was another gift from the demon that made traveling easier. To everyone beyond Willow, I would look and sound like a human man. She was the only one who saw my true form, and that’s how I wanted it to be.
Gripping the railing in her fist, she turns to look at me over her shoulder.
“Is that what I think it is?”
I nod once, grabbing her by the hips and pulling our bodies closer. She shivers. Whether from my arousal or the wind, I cannot be sure.
“A merman? Yes, it has to be.” I nod towards the water. “They are rare. This one is far from home.”
“I wouldn’t want to face his father’s ire.”
“Or his mother’s. I fear she is even more fearsome than the Kraken of the Darksea,” I add.
The white head dips below the water. When it does not resurface after several minutes, Willow sighs. Turning, she wraps her arms around me before looking up.
“How do you feel?”
“At peace.” I wrap a tendril of her hair around my claw. “My revenge has been seen to. The anchors of those who wronged me no longer moor me in the dark waters of my past.”
Willow wrinkles her delicate nose.
“Your affinity for poetry books is beginning to annoy.”
Laughter booms from my chest as I pull her close. Pressing a kiss to her forehead, I inhale her floral scent.
“I’m glad that rotten bastard is dead. I hope the fish make a meal out of him. Better?”
“Much.”
Her lips find mine in a searing press. Their pillowy softness haunts me while I sleep. I dream of every part of her, desperate to taste her over and over again. My tongue glides along her lips, and she eagerly parts them. I taste her, fully savoring the taste of wine on her tongue from dinner.
Breaking our kiss, her eyes gleam wickedly as she licks her lips.
“Come along,” she states, taking my hand in hers. “It’s time for bed.”
I follow her dutifully, knowing sleep is the farthest thing from her mind.
In the five years we’ve been together, I’ve learned Willow inside and out. I know what scares her, what makes her cry, and of course, what brings her the most pleasure. Her wantonness has grown tenfold over the last half-decade. It is a joy and privilege to be the one who satisfies her.
I’ve lost count of all the times I’ve awoken to my cock already halfway down her throat.
I do the same to her, rousing her from sleep with my mouth on her sweet pussy as the morning light paints her rosy.
Once she is awake, that’s when the true pleasure begins.
I feast on her flesh and cunt—I swallow down her moans and come.
I wring her body of every possible pleasure it could experience and then do it all over again.
I know every hidden detail of Willow from the faint scar on her hipbone to the hidden freckle behind her ear.
As I watch her elegantly guide along the ship’s deck back towards our room, my blood heats in anticipation of possessing her again.
It’s in these moments of passionate clarity that I give thanks for the One True Faith.
Not because I believe what they preached—the orchestrators of such a religion can rot for all I care—but I give thanks because it brought me to Willow.
I would give anything—even if it meant being cursed again—to spare her from the harsh realities of her past. To know how much she suffered behind those walls makes me wish I could bring Father Knoll back just to kill him again. Each time I suggest it, she says not to bother, the past is the past.
And Willow is right. Always.
The One True Faith brought us together, gave us bonds to break free. Only we could understand how the other has suffered. Willow is my fate—the other half of my soul.
Willow’s body was made by angels, but her soul is pure wickedness. It is an honor to worship it every day. The setting sun frames her in gold, making her look even more heavenly than usual. I live every day for her. I’ve killed for her and would gladly do so again.
I love her. It’s as simple as that.
A wave of possessiveness overcomes me. The moment Willow unlocks the room to our small quarters, I pounce on her.
Kicking the wooden door shut behind me, I tackle her onto the bed.
Her giggles echo around the room and I quickly devour them.
My hands are frantic on the bodice of her dress.
My sharp claws slice through fabric and boning until her breasts spill free.
Willow gasps at my aggression. Her eyes become heavy as I take one pert nipple into my mouth. Her moans are sweeter than honey. Arching off the bed, she holds my face in her hands as I suckle her. Letting her nipple go with a pop, I quickly turn my attention to the other.
“Baezal, I love when you act like this. Take me rough, my love. Claim me.”
I growl, too feral to use words. Hiking her skirts up around her hips, my palm slaps down on her feminine flesh.
She keens at the stinging. My angel needs a bit of pain with her pleasure.
Her wetness coats my palm. I can already smell her dripping.
My pants fall to my knees as I take my length in my hand.
Smearing come across the tip, I line it up with her pink opening. In one hard thrust, I’m fully seated inside her. Willow gasps, her blunt nails clutching at my shoulders. Staring down at our conjoined bodies, a flush breaks out across her cheeks. Her round breasts jostle as I fuck her ruthlessly.
Gripping her hips in my hands, I hold her steady as I unleash myself upon her little cunt.
She meets each of my thrusts. I can feel her quickening on my thrusting cock.
She’s close, good. My claws find her clit and rub tight circles on it.
Her eyes go wide, and her head falls back, nearly smacking into the wall.