Chapter 10 – Xander
I ’ve been pacing along the rooftop of the Basilica of St. Patrick’s Old Cathedral, texting Locheran nonstop. He’s been answering me, despite being annoyed as fuck with my obsessiveness, but I don’t give a shit.
It’s been thirty minutes of radio silence since they arrived at the hospital. I’m seconds from testing the tether and flying there to make sure my kitten is still alive.
Then I realize I will most certainly die of an exploding heart if I fly outside the limits of my kingdom. Damn royal rules. I understand they’re there to make sure the cities we protect will never be left vulnerable. In the early days, gargoyle kings who left their cities returned to them under attack.
That’s when the rule was put in place .
My phone dings with a text and the tension racing through my body eases.
Locheran
We’re done with visitation. A lot to tell you about.
Kitten is fine. A little spooked, but fine.
Stop pacing the rooftop and go back to your penthouse for a drink. She’ll be home soon.
Me
You know I don’t drink anymore.
Locheran
You might want to after what we have to tell you.
Well...shit.
I call Thorne to take over command, then fly home.
When I get inside my penthouse, I shower and change into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, then pour myself a glass of whiskey. The golden liquid burns as it goes down, and I refill the glass because my nerves are a wreck while waiting for them to return.
I lose track of time, and when the two walk through the door, I’m ten glasses deep .
Ten glasses. It used to take half that to get me wasted when I was younger.
“Kitten,” I belt out, making her jump. I walk to her, arms open.
“Are you drunk?” Locheran asks, amused.
“Perhaps,” I say and bring Evangeline in for a kiss. I cocoon her within my wings for privacy.
She melts into the kiss, her hands smoothing up my chest and to my neck where her fingers take hold of my hair.
I grab her ass and lift her, her short, thick legs swinging around my body.
“Do I need to leave?” Locheran asks, and I break the kiss to answer ‘yes’ the same time Evangeline answers ‘no.’
My kitten sighs and places her head on my chest.
“We need to talk about the visit with my mother,” she says and squirms in my arms. I begrudgingly release her from the cocoon and set her down.
Evangeline searches my cabinets until she finds a glass and fills it with ice water. She holds it out for me to take.
“As fun as you seem while drunk, we need you sober for this. Drink up.”
I down the water, then refill the glass. My tolerance for booze isn’t what it used to be, so the water works through my blood quickly, and the bliss of being drunk fades nearly immediately.
“Okay, talk,” I say once we sit around the kitchen island.
“Her mother knew I wasn’t human,” Locheran begins. “She couldn’t see my true form, but she knew I was a gargoyle.”
“A seer possibly?”
“She did say her visions were coming true,” Evangeline adds. “The stories she told me were premonitions about my future. She also gave me this.”
She pulls a journal out of her purse.
“Everything she told me as a child but with all the details she left out.”
She sets it on the counter and stares at it as if it’s a snake about to attack.
“I haven’t opened it yet. I couldn’t. I wanted to wait and read it with you.” She chews on her bottom lip. “She told me you’re my mate.”
“Oh?” I ask, my voice an octave higher.
“Does that mean fated mate? Like...a soulmate? Wait.”
She starts pacing the kitchen.
“It all makes sense now. It’s why I can see your true form, isn’t it? Why I can see all the gargoyles’ true forms? And this intense attraction to you? OH MY GOD.”
She pauses and covers her mouth with her hand.
“Is that why your cum tastes so good?”
“That’s TMI,” Locheran grumbles, but Evangeline doesn’t hear him and keeps rambling. She’s freaking out, speaking a mile a minute. There’s no way I can avoid this topic anymore.
“Also, I swear I heard you in my head. Can you hear my thoughts too?”
“If you project them to me, yes.”
“So, it’s true? We’re fated mates?”
“Yes.”
She crosses her arms. “Do I not get a choice?”
“You do. You can choose not to accept the bond.”
“And, what? You die? New York City gets attacked by evil?”
“Yes,” Locheran answers, and I almost murder him for real this time. “I’m just going to go.”
He stands, sensing my anger.
“By the way, her mother is a witch,” Locheran adds before slipping out the door.
I turn to Evangeline for an explanation, but she sits with her arms crossed, staring into the void.
“Evangeline—”
“Whatever is hunting me wants my soul so you can’t claim my heart. They want to invade your kingdom and start a war. They’re planning to kill every human they come across.”
“This is what your mother said?”
She nods. “She envisioned this when I was just a child. She knew this day would come. My father thought she’d lost her mind, but it’s all true. She’s been trying to protect me my entire life. She marked my palm.”
She pauses to show me, and I take her hand in mine to inspect the symbol branded on her skin. It resembles a daisy with a circle around it.
“It’s a hexafoil.”
“What?”
“A mark of protection. I see it mostly on buildings but rarely on humans. Though, this one is different. There’s a burst of light behind it.”
“Will this prevent me from being kidnapped?”
“In theory, yes. Just like the flowers you have tattooed on your body, hexafoils ward off anything that has ill intent. But in my world, there’s always going to be a supernatural entity or being more powerful. Not even protection spells or objects can stop them.”
“I...I don’t know if I’m strong enough for this. Any of it. Being someone’s fated mate...something evil wanting me dead...”
Her voice cracks and tears fill her eyes.
“Kitten,” I whisper. “I will protect you, mate or not. I will not let anyone take you, even if you decide not to accept the bond. You need to follow your gut. Listen to your heart.”
She scoffs.
“How do I know what’s real and what’s the fated mate bond?”
“Because if you didn’t have any attraction or feelings for me, the bond would know, and it would weaken and eventually break. You’d no longer stand to be near me. Is that how you feel?”
“Well, no.” She lets out a shuddering breath. “I’m just...scared. I spent years in an abusive relationship. I signed up for that fucking app because I wanted something fun and casual. I didn’t want to be tied down to another man. Or gargoyle.”
She smiles briefly before her thoughts get the best of her.
“I’m...overwhelmed. Can we not talk about this anymore? All I want to do is snuggle on the couch with you and watch a movie.”
“That sounds like the perfect way to end this night. Are you hungry? I’d love to cook for you.”
Her eyes light up. “I knew you could cook.”
I shrug. “I’m not bad. What do you want to eat?”
“Surprise me. ”
She trusts me to cook her dinner and choose which meal to make? I’m both honored and nervous about getting it right.
“Do you want something to drink?”
“I can get it,” she says and walks to the cabinet where I keep wine glasses.
I get to work, and Evangeline moves around my kitchen as if the penthouse is already her home. It’s hers if she wants it. She pours two glasses of wine—one for me and one for herself—then leans against the island to watch me.
“Like what you see?”
“Yes,” she purrs.
“What are you going to do about it?”
She giggles. “Nothing because I’m hungry. I’ll just enjoy the show.”
I consider stripping to cook in the nude and really giving her a show, but the moment I set out the ingredients for chicken tacos, Evangeline’s eyes light up with excitement.
“Tacos are my favorite!”
I wondered why I had a sudden craving for tacos.
“Are they yours too?”
My favorite food? That’s a tough one. Living for one thousand years, I’ve come to love many meals .
“Tacos are in my top five, at least. However, I’d say coq au vin is my favorite. It’s a classic French dish. It’s something my mother used to make for family dinners.”
“I’ve never had French food.”
“Really?”
“My ex didn’t like to try new things. What is the coq au vin dish?”
“Well, it’s chicken braised with red burgundy wine. It has lardon—that’s pork fat—mushrooms, and garlic.”
“Aside from the mushrooms, that sounds fantastic.”
I dump the chicken into a pan and season it, and while it sears, I place the shells on a plate and put toppings in bowls: cheese, sour cream, salsa, guac.
“Favorite color?” I ask while chopping the tomatoes and keeping this game of get-to-know-you going.
Her cheeks blush, and she chews on her lower lip. “Purple, but I swear I’ve loved that color since I was a kid. Though now it makes sense, with you being my fated mate.”
I want to ravish her for that answer.
“What about you? Favorite color?”
“Brown.”
“Brown? No one likes brown. Why?”
I shrug. “Maybe because it’s the color of my fated mate’s hair. ”
“Touché.” She giggles and swipes a bite of tomato from the pile. “Tell me about your family.”
I pause because I rarely speak about my family. My parents were never the loving type. That’s how most royals are. They’re all about ruling their kingdoms and staying professional, keeping their emotional attachments minimal as battles tend to take our kind to an early grave.
“Well, my father rules over Paris, and my older brother Magnus is his commander.”
“You have a brother?”
“And a sister. You’ve actually met her,” I say. “Elara is my sister.”
“Wait, really?” She frowns. “Why didn’t you introduce her to me as your sister?”
I pour the chopped tomatoes in a bowl and add it to the lineup.
“Elara likes to separate herself from me. She doesn’t want to be known as the king’s sister. The other soldiers tease her enough about it already, calling her princess. I guess I’m so used to not addressing her as my sister, I didn’t think to introduce her to you that way.”
“Oh. I guess that makes sense. Also, I don’t think she likes me.”
“Elara doesn’t like anyone,” I chuckle .
“Well, she needs to get over that. I could really use a friend. I haven’t made any since moving here a few months ago. Except for my coworkers, and we’re always working or too exhausted to hang out on our days off.”
“Elara’s not really...friend material.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll charm her.”
“I don’t doubt that.”
I work on my glass of wine while waiting for the chicken to finish cooking. Evangeline is already on her second glass. It’s quite nice having someone to drink with, to share my life with, to cook meals for.
“How did you become king of NYC? Did your brother not want the role?”
“My brother is a warrior, not a leader. I was chosen for this role by the Council of Gargoyle Elders because while I fought in battles alongside my brother and father, I also sat in strategy meetings and shadowed my father when he made executive decisions. All my brother cared about was fucking and fighting.
“When they chose me over him, he was furious, and he challenged me to a brawl. Winner gets New York City.”
“Guess you won.”
“I did, and he’s refused to speak to me since.”
“And the Council never considered him for king of any other city? Even after all these years? ”
“My father will not allow it. My brother makes rash decisions that cost lives. Elara claims he’s changed over the past few decades. They’re close and speak almost every day. She says my father keeps him in check. He gave him the commander title to satisfy his need for power. Seems to be working.”
Evangeline takes a sip of her wine. “Wow. I’m sorry your brother’s an asshole.”
I laugh heartily because this human always amuses me, even when recalling tough moments of my past.
“Your turn. Tell me about your life,” I say, dumping the cooked chicken in a bowl and setting it with the rest of the ingredients. “Do you have siblings?”
Her smile falters slightly.
“My mom struggled getting pregnant, so it’s just me. But I still had the best childhood. At least, up until my father sent my mom away.” She swishes the wine in her glass while gathering her thoughts. “He was rarely home. He worked for a company that had offices around the country, so he traveled a lot. He’d be gone for two weeks at a time. I missed him, but my mother kept me company. She was my best friend. We did everything together.
“We lived in a small town surrounded by the woods. She’d take me on hikes along the trails, and we’d walk a mile from our home. She taught me how to build a fire pit, and we’d dance around the flames. I remember her saying words in a different language. I always thought she made it up, but now I’m guessing she was chanting spells to protect me.”
“So your mother is a witch with sight.”
She nods, blankly staring ahead. “She knew from the day I was born that I was important...that I was your fated mate.”
I also knew Evangeline was important from the moment we met.
With the tacos done, I set out two plates. That snaps her from her memories, and she moves next to me to start assembling her meal.
“I can’t believe it took forty years and a shitty marriage for me to find you.”
I growl at the mention of her ex, and Evangeline’s cheeks warm red. “If I ever catch that man in New York City, I won’t hesitate to kill him.”
“I shouldn’t find that sexy, but I do.”
“Be careful what you say, Kitten. I’ve been struggling not to grab you and throw you on top of the island to have dessert before dinner.”
She giggles. “You’re insatiable.”
“It will only get worse the more we’re around each other, especially if we prolong accepting the bond. ”
“I want to know more about that. What does it entail?”
“Well…” I exhale a long breath because the bonding ritual is intense. I hesitate to explain it, but I suppose up until now, nothing else has scared her away. “When we make love, we must reach orgasm simultaneously. My cock will then knot, and I won’t be able to remove it from your cunt until all my cum is poured inside you. I will bite you and drink your blood. My immortality will be shared with you, and once the magic is inside you, you must finish the bonding ritual by biting me and ingesting my blood.”
She stops preparing her taco and stares at me, mouth open.
“I know it sounds—”
“Hot as fuck!”
Okay. She’s not scared but turned on. This is good.
“I’ve been told it’s euphoric, and we will spend days fucking to fuel and strengthen the bond.”
Her eyes travel down my front to my cock. It presses against the fabric of my sweats just thinking about completing the bond ritual with her.
She tilts her head to the side, her brows furrowing.
“What did you mean by your cock will knot?”