Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Viraat
I shouldn't have kissed her again.
Well... not like that.
Now all I can do is feel her—her soft body pressed against mine, the taste of her lips still clinging to my tongue, her scent lingering in the air around me like smoke I can't escape.
She's like an addiction.
One I have no intention of quitting. And I don’t like that. I don’t like the control this tiny creature has over me—or the emotions roaring through me like a storm I don’t know how to weather.
Emotions I don’t even understand.
We’re not made for this.
Gargoyles are creatures of stone and stillness, of duty and tradition. When we mate, it's always with our kind. There are no questions, no risks. Just the steady certainty of fate.
And yet... here I am.
Half in love with a flighty, frivolous, fanciful, fragile human girl.
I've been pacing the rooftop for an hour now, trying to scrape her scent off my skin with the cold wind and self-recrimination. But it's no use. She's inside me now, under my skin and wrapped around every thought like ivy choking stone.
"Brooding is a good look on you, Daddy Vee."
Her voice—light, teasing and too damn sweet—floats from the other end of the roof top, and I damn near stumble over my feet.
Of course she followed me up after I ran away like a pup.
I don't turn around. Maybe if I don't acknowledge her, she'll flutter off like the sunbeam she is, and I can go back to wallowing in my shadows.
No such luck.
A second later, she plops down beside me on the stone ledge, swinging her legs happily. She's holding a pink stuffed bunny in one hand and a cookie in the other.
I'm fucking doomed.
"I'm surprised you hide up here when you're all emotionally constipated, considering you're trapped up here half the time," she says, cocking her head at me with a knowing grin that makes my chest ache.
"I'm not hiding," I mutter with force. "I'm thinking. Brooding if you will."
"Brooding," she mimics, her voice laced with mirth.
"Contemplating," I return with a shrug.
"Sulking," she sings, offering me the cookie. "Here. It's oatmeal raisin. Should help with that constipation I was talking about."
My growl rumbles through my chest because that's the only way to hide the chuckle that threatens to tumble out.
And obviously I take the damn cookie.
She leans against my side, her head resting lightly on my arm. "Do you always dramatically run off after kissing someone, or did I hit a nerve?"
I grunt.
What the hell else am I supposed to do?
She laughs softly, and it's like those first stirrings of sunset. Comforting, golden, soothing. "You kissed me like I was made of glass. Precious. And then... like you were starving for me. It was quite the heady combination."
I glance down at her, and there's nothing flirty in her expression now. Just curiosity. Maybe a smidge of vulnerability.
And a hint of hope that terrifies me.
"You're made of sunshine, sugar, and butterflies. This, too, is quite a combination, sweetheart. You have no idea what you're doing to me," I say, the words scraping raw from my throat.
Her smile softens. "Maybe I do," she whispers. "Maybe this is all part of my master plan and I'm spinning my web to catch the grumpy gargoyle."
Before I can respond, before I can pull her into my embrace and lose myself in her again, her phone buzzes.
She fumbles it out of her oversized cardigan pocket, blinking at the screen.
"Oh crap. That was quick! It's the guy from the kink retreat directory.
" She squeals in delight. "I only emailed him a short while ago.
I didn't think they'd get back this soon.
" Avalon stares at her screen, a hint of nerves showing in the set of her shoulders.
"What if soon is bad?" she asks, looking at me with large eyes.
I tense, instincts immediately shifting. She's starting to panic. Oh my sweet, sweet girl.
"What do I do? Say?" she whispers. "What if I mess this up?"
I take the phone gently from her hands and hold it screen up, my clawed finger hovering over the green button.
"You answer it," I tell her, my voice low and steady.
"Because you're not going to mess anything up.
You're going to be exactly who you are—clever, warm, full of ideas.
And if they don't see that, value that for the beautiful thing it is, they're a bunch of idiots. "
She looks up at me, lips parted. "You think I can do this?"
I nod once, then brush a strand of hair behind her ear. "I know you can."
She takes a shaky breath and nods at me so I answer the call, placing it on speaker.
Her voice wobbles at first, but then it smooths out.
Avalon shrugs off the scared little girl, and in her place is a confident, passionate businesswoman.
I watch her, struck silent.
She paces as she speaks, arms moving animatedly, words flowing like a current.
She laughs at the man's jokes, corrects a misconception gently. She even clarifies her vision for the manor without sounding rude or condescending.
By the time the call ends, she's radiant. Glowing.
"They want to set up a meeting!" she gasps, spinning around to face me with wide eyes and a squeal that would send birds scattering if there were any left in the trees this time of night.
"They love the concept! And the themed rooms?
The workshops? Daddy, they think I'm brilliant and would love to work with me. "
I can't speak. If I do, I might admit something I'm not ready to say out loud.
So I grunt. Nod. And allow myself the smallest of smiles. Okay, it's more of a grimace, but I'm a work in progress.
But that's all she needs.
With a joyful hop, she throws her arms around me, hugging me tight. I freeze, then wrap one arm around her back and awkwardly pat it. We stand there just long enough for her warmth to start seeping into me.
Then she's off.
"I have to tell Daddy Jodrick!" she calls over her shoulder, skipping toward the rooftop stairs. "He's going to freak out!"
Unable to stop myself, I shout. "No fucking running!"
She giggles and slows down immediately before disappearing down the steps.
And just like that... the silence I always craved returns.
I stare at the empty space where she stood only moments ago, and the unease creeping through my veins turns into something colder.
If she does this—and there is no doubt in my mind that she can do it—the house will be opened up for real. To strangers.
Strangers who won't know the secrets of Stonebound Manor. Who won't know how to respect its moods. Who won't deserve to breathe the same air as her.
They'll come with curiosity and boundary-pushing tendencies as humans always do. Some of them may even harbor bad intentions.
She, Avalon, will be with them. Alone. Unprotected.
During the day.
When we can't shift. Move. Protect her.
My claws flex involuntarily.
What if someone hurts our Avalon?
What if... what if this beautiful dream of hers becomes our worst nightmare?
I growl low, a sound only the wind hears, and sink back onto the stone ledge. My chest tightens with the weight of the truth I didn't want to face.
I don't know if I can handle it.
I'm not sure I can risk letting her follow her dream only to lose her completely.
Not when I'm only now realizing how much I bloody love her.
Shit. Blast.