Chapter 4
THALRIC
Fierce protectiveness floods my veins as Aurora crawls into the nest of furs and immediately snuggles into my chest. I fold my wings around her, holding her close.
Running my hand lightly up and down her back, I breathe deep of her delicate scent as I whisper into her hair.
“Your nightmare… was it the same one you’ve had before?
About that strange wheel and dark threads? ”
She nods against me. “In my dream, I tried to move.” She draws in a shaking breath. “I wanted to call out for you, but I couldn’t. I was so scared, Thalric.”
I curl my wings tighter around her trembling form and nuzzle her temple. “It was just a dream,” I murmur. “You’re safe.”
“It felt so real, Thalric,” she says, voice shaking. “I’ve had this dream several times now over the past few months. Maybe I should tell Fiora and the others. What if it’s some sort of warning? What if—”
“It was a nightmare, Auri. Nothing more.” Gently, I brush the hair back from her face as I meet her eyes evenly. “I won’t let anything harm you. My vow.”
I hate seeing her so afraid. Aurora is bold—brave, headstrong, and impetuous. She’s impulsive to the point of recklessness, and it’s rare for anything to truly shake her. But this recurring nightmare terrifies her.
“Thank you, Thalric,” she whispers, tucking her head under my chin. “You always make me feel safe.”
A rumbling purr begins low in my chest, and I feel her beginning to relax. I’m told humans do not make this noise, but it always seems to settle her.
A cool wind blows through the cavern, and I make a mental note to gather more furs. Winter is coming soon, and while the cold doesn’t bother me nearly as much as it does Auri, I don’t want her to experience any discomfort.
As this thought crosses my mind, realization washes over me with sparkling clarity. This isn’t just a cave anymore. It hasn’t been for a long time. Gargoyles build nests for their mates.
And I built one. For her.
Gods, I’m already hers, and she doesn’t even know it.
Warmth floods my veins at the thought. I’ve loved Aurora since childhood, long before I understood what it meant to love someone with every piece of my heart. And here she is, curled beside me, seeking comfort as she always has.
But this time… this time is different.
Aurora shifts closer, her small body pressed against mine. Her soft breath feathers over my chest, and gods, it nearly breaks me.
“Is it okay if I stay here tonight?” she whispers.
Normally, she only stays a few hours before I fly her back home. Fiora and the others would be upset if they knew she’d snuck out again. And to say my father would be even more disappointed in me, would be an understatement.
If she stays, we run the risk of being caught and in trouble, but when it comes to Auri, I can deny her nothing.
Every instinct within me longs to shield and protect her from anything that frightens her. But other instincts—stronger, primal—flare dangerously to life at her closeness, as her sweet scent of honeysuckle and lavender floods my senses.
I swallow hard, trying to control my breathing, terrified she’ll sense how strongly I desire her. Guilt claws at me. She came here for comfort, not this… not the burning need that consumes me whenever she’s near.
“Of course,” I barely manage through my longing.
She molds herself against me, so soft and trusting.
My body aches with want as I resist the urge to run my hands over her petal-soft skin, to map every line and sensuous curve of her body with the tips of my fingers. I force myself to remain still, my heart slamming against my ribs as I desperately try not to ruin our friendship.
“Will you wake me if I have a bad dream?”
“Yes,” I whisper. Protective instincts surge through me. “You’re safe now, Auri. I’d die before I’d allow anything to harm you.”
The words slip free before I can stop them, raw and reckless, and I hold her tighter to keep from taking them back.
After a while her breathing becomes soft and even, her heartbeat calm and steady against my chest. She drifts into peaceful sleep as I lie awake, caught between the paradise of holding her and the torture of wanting far more between us.
Gently, I tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear as I gaze at her lovely face. “You have no idea what you do to me, my savryl,” I whisper softly. “Every time you smile, I forget how to breathe.”
She stirs faintly in my arms, but her eyes remain closed.
Hours pass before an orange and yellow glow spreads along the horizon, heralding the coming dawn. Carefully, I lift her into my arms, cradling her to my chest.
Still asleep, she curls deeper into my embrace.
Spreading my wings, I fly her back to her cottage. Noticing the faint glow of red magic lining her bedroom window, I quietly slip in through the back door, and carry her to her room. Gently I set her on the bed, and tuck the blankets up around her shoulders to ensure she is warm.
When I go back outside, I take up my familiar post, high in the tree outside her window, waiting for several minutes, listening for any sounds of distress.
Although I know she’s safely inside, I cannot ignore the primal instinct to protect her… to watch over the cottage and make sure she’s all right.
After a while, I finally force myself to leave.
My chest aches fiercely with longing. I crave Aurora with every breath, every beat of my heart. I long to claim her… to take her as my mate. But I’m not sure she wants me in return.
If I declare my feelings and she rejects me, I’m not sure I’ll ever recover.
She came to me for comfort, and I’ll give her that for as long as she’ll have me… even if she never chooses to be mine.