Chapter 2
THALRIC
“Iswear, this was all my idea,” Aurora tells my father and Fiora. “Thalric didn’t want to come, but I forced him.”
“No,” I state firmly. “It was my fault, I—”
“I’ve heard enough,” my father growls, obviously done with our excuses. His gaze shifts to me. “We’ll speak when we get home.”
Aurora’s honey-brown eyes dart to mine, wide and apologetic.
I recognize this look. It’s the one she always gives me when she’s pulled us into trouble and regrets it.
Even when we were fledglings, when she would drag me through mischief, she was always sorry afterward but never quite enough to stop herself the next time.
I brush my wing against her shoulder, silently reassuring her I’m not angry. I could never truly be angry with her. Frustrated, yes. Exasperated, gods yes. But never angry.
She’s held my stone-born heart in the palms of her dainty human hands ever since we were seven years old.
“Come, Aurora,” Fiora says sharply. “We should get home. Lyria and Maribel are beside themselves with worry.”
With one final regretful glance at me, Aurora hurries to Fiora’s side.
My father turns to me, his eyes hard and glittering with disappointment. “Home. Now.”
Without another word, his massive wings beat once, twice, and then we rise into the night sky, the air brisk and biting against my skin. Below us, the village shrinks, golden lights shimmering in the velvet darkness.
We land heavily on the stone ledge outside our cavernous home, carved deep into the cliff wall, at the edge of town.
From here, I can see the roof of Aurora’s cottage in the distance, including the back garden and the tree I often sit in when I stand guard outside her window.
A waterfall cascades from the top of the mountain, near the entrance to our family cave. It feeds the winding river that skirts Auri’s home before continuing through the village.
Mist from the roaring falls spreads through the air like fog. Inside, the fire crackles low on the hearth in the corner of the main living area, casting dancing shadows along the jagged stone walls. Various gems embedded in the rock wash the chamber in faint jeweled colors.
Father’s footsteps echo loudly as he moves deeper into our dwelling. His silence is deafening, oppressive. I brace myself for the inevitable reprimand, ready to face his judgment.
“You know better than this, Thalric.” His voice is heavy with disappointment, which is far worse than anger.
“You just turned twenty-three a few weeks ago. You’re finally of age where you can begin your training at the capital as one of the royal guards.
And yet, your actions tonight make me question if you are truly ready for such a position. ”
My jaw tightens, shame twisting in my gut. Because I do know better. I always have. It has been my ambition since childhood to become a member of the royal guard, like my parents and grandfather before me.
But even more than this, it’s my dream to take Auri as my mate. And because I feel this way, it’s hard to deny Aurora anything, especially things that make her happy.
“Are you truly so na?ve as to believe the festival is safe?” He looms closer, the shadows sharpening his harsh features. “You endangered her tonight. You snuck out with her, even knowing it was wrong.”
His wings snap tight behind him. “There were strangers there. Slavers and thieves could have been walking among the crowd. Aurora is human, Thalric. Her kind have no natural defenses. They have pitiful blunt claws and flat teeth instead of fangs. She could have been hurt or taken by any number of unsavory characters.”
His words strike deep, the truth of them undeniable. My wings twitch with restless guilt, and I lower my gaze, accepting the weight of his rebuke.
“You’re right, and I’m sorry,” I rasp, my throat tight. “I will not allow it to happen again.”
He studies me carefully before he sighs, the disappointment in his expression softening a bit. “I’m not angry, my son. But I am worried. I know she talked you into going.”
I start to deny it, but he holds up his hand, silencing me. “It’s been this way since you were fledglings. She has a knack for finding trouble, and you always follow her straight into it.”
He gives me a pointed look. “And I know she’s your friend, but you cannot allow your feelings to cloud your judgment. If you truly care about her, you must keep her safe, Thalric.”
“I would give my life to protect her.” Raw emotion stabs at my chest. “She is my savryl.”
The sacred term of endearment leaves my mouth before I even register I’ve spoken it aloud, and I realize my mistake immediately as my father’s jaw goes slack.
“Thalric.” His tone is cautious and controlled. “Do you truly have such… feelings for her?”
My wings tighten instinctively, a defensive reaction I cannot hide. I could deny it. Lie. But the hesitation betrays me, laying bare my truth before his watchful gaze.
“This cannot be.” He exhales slowly, running a hand roughly through his dark hair. “She is human, Thalric.”
“What does that matter?” The defiance in my voice surprises even me.
“Gargoyles and humans do not mate,” he replies firmly.
“But there are several mixed couples in the village,” I point out. “Why not us?”
“This is different.” His tone leaves no room for argument. “She is not meant for you.”
The words pierce like talons, burrowing deep into my chest. “I don’t understand. You encourage me to protect her. Yet, now you say she cannot be my mate. Why?”
“I seek to spare you pain, my son. She is human, Thalric,” Father says, quieter now, sorrow edging his voice. “And you are stone-born. You must trust me. It cannot be.”
“He’s right,” my mother’s voice drifts toward me as she walks into the room.
“Humans are too fragile compared to our kind.” She rests a hand on my shoulder, her silver eyes studying me intently.
“There are many Gargoyles in the king’s royal guard.
Perhaps you may find a mate there when you go for your training. After all, it’s how I met your father.”
I’ve heard this story many times. My parents trained together before they became a mated pair. Shortly after my birth, they decided to leave the bustling city for a quiet life here in Oakvale.
“Trust us, my son,” she adds softly. “We only want what is best for you.”
Before I can argue any further, my father grips my shoulder, silently communicating his care and regret before they retreat to their room, leaving me to my thoughts.
I remain by the hearth, wings pulled tightly around myself, my talons digging into the stone beneath me.
She is not meant for you.
My father’s words echo endlessly, slicing deeper with every repetition.
But the truth of my heart is already immovable—firm and unyielding as stone itself.
No warning, no words, could ever change that.
My parents may not believe it could ever work between us, but I’ll prove them wrong. If Aurora will have me, I will take her as my mate and damn the consequences.
Drawing in a deep breath, I walk outside and spread my wings. There is a cave nearby that I often sleep in when I’m troubled. It’s the same cavern Aurora and I have played in since we were younger.
We chose it because Auri doesn’t have any wings, and it’s easily accessible by a tree… which she has scaled many times.
I need to be alone. To clear my thoughts. And I cannot do that in the house of my parents. The air outside is cool against my skin, but it’s easier to breathe away from their judgment. They have no idea how much Aurora means to me.
She is everything soft in a world carved from stone. When she smiles at me, the ache in my chest is almost painful, like my body wasn’t built to hold something so precious. I want only to care for and protect her. If I could, I would wrap her in my wings and shelter her from every discomfort.
Let others pray to their gods; she is mine. The beat of her heart is my prayer, her laughter my salvation. I was made to guard her, to adore her, to build a life around every breath she takes. I do not know where I end and she begins. I only know that without her, I am unmade.
My heart is stone, but it breaks all the same as I recall my father’s words. She is not meant for you.
I would give anything to take her as my mate.