Chapter 4
Avandair
“Are you expecting me to eat all this alone?” I survey the buffet of exotic dishes decorating the table. “You’ve cooked for an army.”
Delicious aromas of roasted meats, seasoned vegetables, puddings, and cheesy soup assault my nostrils.
Gargoyle balls and parties thrown at other nobles’ houses are usually grand affairs.
The feasts there are the best I’ve ever eaten, made by talented chefs with years of experience and culinary training.
Yet, when I swallow my first spoonful of soup, it blows everything I’ve ever eaten out of the water. The leek and ham flavors are delicate, mingling in perfect harmony. The subtle dash of pepper adds zingy spicy while the copious salt ensures that the soup isn’t bland.
Truly, Winona is unbelievable. Her tiny body hides incredible strength and talent. She must have gotten up early to finish preparing this grand feast.
“Gargoyles are big so I assumed they eat more,” she says matter-of-factly. I can’t fault her logic. It does make sense. However, despite being huge, I eat the equivalent of what an adult human male eats. Our bodies are more efficient at converting food into energy.
“Only someone with a monstrous appetite could eat so much food.”
“I seemed to have messed up.” She apologizes profusely.
I clap my palms, an idea taking root. I can use her zeal to my advantage. I was hoping for a simple, home-cooked fare. More than that, I longed for her company during my meals. “If you want me to accept your apology you’ll have to join me.”
“But….”
“You haven’t eaten yet, have you? Sit down. I’m not having my ma…my cook goes hungry.” Dammit. I almost slipped up and said my mate there.
My cock has been permanent at half-mast ever since she sauntered into Slate Manor. I thought I was prepared to be with her and ignore the powerful effect she has on my cock but I was wrong.
Winona has steeped my sanctuary in her pheromones. Everything smells of her. From the moment I wake up to the moment I fall asleep, her tantalizing scent circles me and wears away at my willpower.
I grip my hard shaft underneath the table, stroking it.
Seed oozes from the tip, twitching to burst into her warm, waiting womb.
One of these days, when my careful reserve snaps, I’m not going to be able to prevent my inner gargoyle from pounding her sweet pussy like a monster.
Because where my mate is concerned, all I want to do is tear off those clothes are tickle the stiff, rosy tips of her breasts with my thumb until she starts to leak.
One more week until the full moon and then her tits will swell and grow wet with sweet milk fit to feed a noble. The herbs will take effect soon.
And I’m the one who will taste her first.
My cock throbs, liking the idea as much as I do.
I continue pumping with my hand.
Innocent as she is, Winona remains unaware of my carnal impulses.
“May I sit here?” she asks in a tiny, feminine voice that makes heat seep into my cock that’s on the verge of exploding.
“Yes…please,” I beg, glad she chose to seat herself as far away from me as possible. I’m a wrecking ball of ache and I’ll pound her to satisfy my needs if she gives me the opportunity.
The long dining table consists of ten chairs. Two on opposite ends and four on each side of the table. As the master of the manor, I occupy the one at the head of the table. But there’s another, equally ornate chair on the opposite side intended for the lady of the manor.
My mate.
It’s where Winona is meant to sit. But I want to give her time to acclimatize herself to life in the manor before I drop the responsibility of being the lady on her.
Humans don’t fully understand the concept of fated mates.
She’ll be doubly distrustful since I’m a monster.
I’ll have to seduce her until she is as certain as me that I’m her mate.
Winona hesitates before choosing a seat two away from mine, putting a measure of distance between us.
“Shall I serve the food, my lord?” she asks.
I’m close to cumming, here every word driving me closer to unraveling. My eyelids wrap shut. The scorching, delightful sensations in my groin ascend to a fever pitch. Just a little more...
“No, pass me the dishes and I’ll do it myself,” I reply, increasing the pace of my pleasuring to grant myself relief faster. “I’ve gotten used to doing a lot in the absence of servants.”
“Yes, my lord.” Her gentle obedience and knowing how she’d feel if she was under me is what undoes me.
My blood howls to possess her, to spill my seed inside her feminine warmth.
Rope after rope spurts out of my arousal.
Soiling the tablecloth. Forming a pool under me.
My knot swells even though there’s nowhere to put it.
I must make sure I send Winona away before I stand up after this meal or she’ll see my swollen knot.
Wiping my hand on the napkin, I return to the present where a grand feast awaits me.
“Your food exceeds all my expectations,” I remark, savoring the savory aftertaste of the roasted potatoes flecked with salt. It’s so warming and homely, like a mate’s embrace. As it travels down my throat and settles in my stomach, it destroys the guilt for everything inside.
There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Being attracted to one’s mate is only natural.
Winona’s hands are laid on the table but she hasn’t touched anything.
“This is my first time dining with a…noble.” Her lips quiver.
That subtle slip of her tongue, that beat of hesitation catches my notice. “You meant to say a monster, didn’t you?”
“I’m sorry.” Panic jerks to life on her face, crumpling her features. “I—”
“I’m a monster. That much is true.” If she looked below me at the mess of cum that wanting to possess her has produced.
..she’ll realize just how much of a beast I am.
Always lusting after my mate, dying to claim and possess her in the most primal way.
“But you needn’t be afraid of me. I will not hurt you. You’re mine to protect.”
“I’m only your maid.”
“You’re mine, Winona,” I grind out in a rocky rasp, my possessiveness flaring to life, hating anybody contesting my connection to her. I loosen the tense muscles in my chest. I’ll scare her if I carry on like this. “I mean, after eating your marvelous cooking, I want to keep you forever.”
Her eyes widen in surprise. “I didn’t expect you to compliment my food. I’d been led to believe that you were impossible to please.”
“Your food deserves all the praise in the world. I cannot believe you kept your talent hidden for so long.”
“I’m flattered you think so highly of me,” she says. The smile that ghosts her lips is worth every scheme and underhanded tactic I pulled to get her here. To bring her to my mansion. I don’t regret offering her father money in exchange for his daughter.
“Eat, Little Butterfly. Do not be nervous,” I say. “Shall I tell you a story to help you feel at ease?”
A blush colors her cheeks. She immediately grabs a few potatoes and begins nibbling on them. “I am woefully ignorant of gargoyle tales,” she punctuates her words with deliberate crunches of food. “I would love to hear some.”
“The most popular one is about the stone gargoyle and his mate.”
“Aren’t all gargoyles made of stone?”
“Well, they are, but legend has it that long ago, we used to be angels.” I pause, taking the time to properly savor my spoonful of soup. “We were the most fortunate of creatures because we were given divine mates to protect and cherish.”
“A mate…like a lover?”
“More than that. A mate is someone who is your home, your soul’s echo. They pull you in like a spell with their body, their sex, their nature and never let go. It’s like being tied by the string of fate.”
“That sounds both amazing and scary.”
“Well, it probably is. Hundreds of years ago, one of my ancestors rejected his mate. Thought she was too ugly. Because his heart was frozen and filled with hate, he couldn’t see love even when it came to him.”
Winona is fully invested in the story, the spoon still halfway to her mouth. She’s on tenterhooks to hear the rest of the story. “What happened then?”
“He killed his mate because she wouldn’t stop trying to crack his heart open.
She was only hoping to make him see that there was no reason to wallow in resentment.
” I drop my voice so low it crackles like pebbles grinding against each other.
“Due to that, all of us were cursed to become stone. Not only that, most gargoyles no longer have fated mates.”
“But some do,” she surmises.
“A few, very lucky ones,” I agree. “Even then, it’s hard to be with one’s mate. Fate creates obstacles and keeps us apart. Only with great determination can the two souls come together.”
“That was a moving story, my lord.” Winona chews on her food slowly, her twinkling eyes set on me. “To have a fated mate seems like the ultimate blessing.”
Our eyes hold each other’s for a long breath. Fate and magic pulses in the air between us. I want to call it a silent understanding, the emotion that passes in her eyes. Like she knows I’m her mate.
Like she knows we were meant to find each other.
The thick spell that the story has cast on us both winds through my veins, filling my body with the need to stop this silly charade and confess to her that she is mine and mine alone.
“I can’t help but long for my mate.” A rasp enters my voice. If she’s sensitive, she’ll be able to feel my desire where she’s sitting.
“Me, too,” she says. “I wish I had a mate like that.”
I blink, wondering if she means what I think she did. But she quickly returns to serving herself the pudding, breaking the meaningful charge between us.
“I’m grateful for the extravagant meal and your company. But please make dinner a simpler affair. I detest wasting food.”
She nods.
We converse effortlessly for the remainder of our time in the dining hall.
She’s intelligent and well-read, able to regale me with tales of merchants and her knowledge of spices.
In turn, she demands that I feed her curiosity regarding gargoyles, magic, and monsters.
We’re a perfect match, both interested in what the other has to offer.
It wasn’t this easy to talk to my wife. We often lapsed into silence and anything beyond polite small talk or discussion of our duties turned uncomfortable.
Winona wipes her mouth, done with her meal. Keen to clean up my seed that’s drying under me, I tell her to leave.
Her shoulders dip in disappointment. “I enjoyed talking to you very much, my lord. You’re a fascinating conversationalist.”
“It’s easy when one has such a talented companion,” I reply. “I’m going to request your company for dinner, too. If you don’t mind.”
The same pitying look that flickered across her features a few times during our talk surfaces again.
“Are you lonely? Is that why you made the deal with my father to take me?” Her brilliant brown eyes soften with understanding. She breathes faster. “Because you needed someone to talk to.”
A frisson of heat runs under my skin. A pleasant, peaceful pressure expands through my stone heart.
It’s true. I have been alone since my wife died.
But even when she was alive, I’ve always felt like I didn’t have the warmth I craved.
My wife was polite, but she didn’t have the effect on me that Winona’a lovingly cooked warm food does.
Her body didn’t beckon me at night the way Winona’s soft, pliant curves do.
Winona’s mere scent sets my heart ablaze with passion and possessiveness. It signals to every fiber of my body that she’s mine. That I’m her mate. I must protect her and pleasure her while I take pleasure from her.
“Will you forgive me for bringing you here if I tell you it’s because I’m lonely?”
“There’s nothing to forgive.” She shakes her head. “I’m beginning to believe that our meeting was also a kind of fate. Between a maid and her master.”
“Maybe it’s more than that.”
Her skin warms to a deep crimson at my flirtatious tone. It is scandalous in her world for a master to express romantic interest in his maid but it’s different between us.
“Do you believe you have a mate written for you in the stars, my lord?”
“Yes. I’m certain of it.”
Her smile is encouraging. “I hope you will find them.”
“I already did,” I whisper. “But it’s going to take a bit of convincing until we can be together.”
She begins to fidget with her gown’s pleats. She’s a perceptive woman. Her brain must have made a connection between me mentioning my mate and her being here. “How wonderful,” she says, showing no hint of flirtation or insinuation. “A lady might liven up this silent manor.”
“I hope you start to like it here.” I truly do.
While my inner gargoyle would never tolerate being separated from my mate, I don’t want to keep her here by force forever.
I want her to be happy and choose to stay.
“I wish I could bring more humans here. It’d make your job easier if there were more helping hands.
Not to mention you’d be more at ease amongst your own. ”
Winona smooths her hair, running her fingers between her silky brown locks that haunt me a night.
“I’ll try going to town one of these days and convincing others to come with me,” she says.
“There are so many people I know looking for work. But rumors about Slate Manor being a dangerous, hostile place have stopped them from applying for employment with you. I will have to convince them that all those rumors are just stories.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, my lord. I want to be of help to you in any way I can. “
“Thank you. You don’t realize how much your presence in this manor means to me.”
This is where she’s destined to be. By my side. As my queen. My lady. My wife. My lover.
Soon, I’ll make sure she knows it, too.