Stone Cold (Sinister Season #1)

Chapter 1

One

Burchard’s POV

I’d been alive for centuries. Being transported from one place to the next by disgusting, power hungry, vile humans, thinking we were just gargoyles.

Not all of them were bad, but the majority?

All they wanted was to show off their wealth as if it meant something, as if it made them someone of importance.

It wasn’t until the humans of The Society found us that finally, finally someone was letting us fall into safe hands, catching us so we could relax and rejuvenate.

It was only after The Society got their hands on us, that we were placed in our final spot, never to move again, at Bartholomew University, tasked with guarding the castle and its grounds for the rest of eternity.

The heirs of The Society were set to be schooled there, grooming them for the role and seeing how they handled the supernaturals, and therefore, needed protecting at all costs. Even from some of the staff members.

It was our home.

Bartholomew Castle.

My late Master’s castle, but it looked much different than the last time we had seen it.

The final time was when it was under attack only a few months after he had completed making me and my brothers.

We were gargoyles, set to guard his castle from any invaders, including the magical kind.

He had made over five hundred of us, giving each of the gargoyles a little bit of magic as they were made.

I was the last to be completed. I was also the largest one, the one he gave a title and named.

When he named me, he invoked an ancient magic giving me life.

Though, it should have been impossible since we were made with marble and magic.

However, because he was the most prolific wizard up to that point, and since, upon naming me, I became real.

We could all move and fight and communicate, that was the gift that all of us were given, magically, but I was the only one with a soul.

The only one who could feel and have independent thoughts and decisions.

My brothers followed commands, from Master and from me. I was the only one of my kind though.

The only real, live gargoyle.

Master and I had a mere six months of friendship where he taught me everything he knew before they came for him.

Our time together may have been short, but the things he taught me would stay with me forever as I was forced to navigate the world without him.

He was, what I would learn many years later, was what was commonly referred to as a father, to me.

To a stone man. I would think back on our times and lessons many times since he was killed, thinking of our final conversation mostly.

The castle was under attack. I was flying around, checking the borders, giving orders to fortify our barrier, when I landed on the roof above Master.

But those foul blood suckers. They had stolen an elemental’s lifeforce, using their powers to command the earth.

We were being attacked on all sides, each different element coming for us, trying to destroy our barrier.

I was standing atop the tallest tower with Master.

He was watching my brothers defending our castle.

“Some men are just power hungry. And those are the ones we fight against. Power and strength are to be used for good, to fight for those who cannot fight for themselves.”

He was a wise wizard. We were designed to protect whatever castle we sat upon, but after we left here, the others never woke again.

That night still sits so vividly in my mind.

We fought for him the night he died. The night he poured the rest of his gift, his magic, into me. Trusting me to protect it with my life.

“Burchard, you…” His breathing was shallow as he gripped my hand, “Your name means strong as a castle. I am giving you the rest of my gift so they cannot have it. But be wary. They will not stop searching for you, my friend.”

I nodded, that was all I could do as my Master took his final breaths. We buried his body, deep within the catacombs of the castle, sealing it off for eternity. We then gathered his belongings, and hid those away, far away so they would be difficult to track down precisely.

They couldn’t fall into the wrong hands.

But now that we were back where we belonged, and even when we were first brought back centuries ago, it was like we’d never left. With, of course, the exception of my Master being buried beneath us. And now too, with the exception of the one little girl I couldn’t seem to stop thinking about.

I used to stand atop the tallest tower overlooking the gate allowing entry onto this land, but when I saw her moving in, that was the day I moved from my perch of five hundred years. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her as she made her way to the dorms.

She looked soft, delicate, with beautiful waves of white hair danced in the crisp autumn air.

The wind brought her scent to me and I memorized it.

She smelt exquisite, like warm chocolate and a faint trace of cinnamon, making my mouth water.

I watched her, and when the sun set, I followed her delectable scent, following her to her room.

I stood sentinel above it. Her room was at the corner of the castle, allowing me to perch above her, protecting her every night.

That was how I learned her name.

Annette. Soft, delicate, but still a strong name.

I even had the audacity to ask the other gargoyles to keep an eye on her throughout the days and report back to me what they had seen or heard.

They reported back nightly, their reports being mundane until closer to All Hallows Eve.

Something changed. One of the gargoyles we had been injured in the war of our Master had requested an audience with me through our telepathic communications.

He told me about a girl named after a baby deer and a boy named Gavin who would bully her. I didn’t know why, but this information bothered me, and it wasn’t just because she was the heir of The Society.

It bothered me like it would bother a man if someone was bullying a woman he was courting.

And if that little prick and his wench didn’t leave her alone, I would tear them apart.

As time went on, it was reported that they picked on her; pushing her, taunting her for her body, they even tried to trip her one time.

Thankfully her brothers were there for that and were able to handle it, being almost as big as me.

Every night I would do something, a small hex, a few petty things to make their days harder because of their actions. And even with this small bit of vengeance in her name, I struggled.

Her scent would waft through her open windows, taunting me, tantalizing my senses, torturing me. Some nights, it wasn’t only her warm chocolate scent that wafted upwards. Some nights, there was an exquisite scent that traveled up to me, like a properly done beef wellington.

I also would hear those soft, breathy moans from her mouth and wet sounds coming from where I could only imagine in her room.

Hers was always the only scent I smelled at night, and it drove me wild.

I couldn’t help the physical, visceral reactions she pulled from me.

During the day occasionally, I would catch another female’s scent coming through the window of the common room that attached both rooms. One day, I caught her low voice coming out, vicious and cutting, ready to strike my dark haired angel down.

I made myself remember that other woman’s scent, the one named after the baby deer, because I never got a look at her face, but heard my angel telling her where to go.

“You know, just because my father is standing in as Head of The Society, doesn’t mean that I, the heir to The Society, don’t know who you are.

Bambi Donahue, nineteen, arranged engagement and soon-to-be marriage, to the boy you’ve been childhood friends and secretly in love with for years.

I know you, and your family. Does Gavin know what he’s getting into with you? ”

The woman would always stomp off, slamming doors as she left after a confrontation with my dark angel. I knew some nights, after that vile creature would leave, my angel would cry sometimes, other I would hear her hitting something. She could be strong, but that didn’t mean she should have to.

I didn’t know why I felt this protective over her.

It had never been like this with any of the other heirs.

Two days ago, one of my brothers mentioned that the woman who smelled like fish and rising bread, the same one from my angel’s room, was with a man.

The same one she goes to every night, and they were both ganging up on her.

On my Angel. My brother told me that the man was picking on her, pulling her hair and kept trying to hold her hand.

Then he cornered her against the wall, pinning her, when the foul smelling woman stormed over and hit my sweet dark fairy across the face.

I could feel something brewing deep in my chest that I hadn’t felt in a long time.

Rage.

A deep, crimson rage was surging through the veins of my marble form.

These mere mortals dared touch what doesn’t belong to them.

I was perched above her room as the sun went down.

Once the darkness blanketed over me, I leaned down, listening.

I was thankful that it was dark, my wings and horns weren’t too visible, unless it was a full moon, then it was practically daylight out.

I peaked below the roof, looking in her room.

She was taking off her dress, and I knew I should look away.

Master always told me I should respect any woman, no matter what they did, but I couldn’t look away.

The fabric delicately flitted over her legs and up her lush body.

She turned, facing the window as she pulled it over her head.

I could feel myself growing hard, something that had never happened before.

I didn’t know what to do with it, but the way the wind blew the cloth over me, it felt nice.

I watched as she walked into her bathroom.

I moved to the connecting room to see if the rotten woman was in or over at her lover’s.

I couldn’t smell her, so I moved back to my angel’s room.

I climbed down the wall, entering into her room, hiding in the vaulted ceiling.

A few minutes later, she walked out of the bathroom in nothing but a fluffy white towel, her white hair dripping down her back.

I couldn’t help the growl that reverberated in my chest. I don’t think she heard, too distracted by her thoughts.

She dropped her towel, staring at herself in the mirror, a vacant look in her eyes as she scanned her body head to toe.

A pang of something struck my chest, I wasn’t sure what, but I didn’t like it or how it made me feel.

I waited, hoping she would fall asleep, but she lay awake, curled on her bed like it was a nest.

I waited, and just when I thought I’d have to give up, or use my powers to get out of her room before sunrise.

I closed my eyes, ready to recite the spell, when I heard, and smelt, her.

My eyes glinted, feeling myself harden even further.

She let out little whimpers, her face contorted in pleasure.

It was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen before.

I reached one hand down, stroking myself, matching her pace.

She moved the covers off her, exposing herself to me, her hand between her legs.

One hand pinched her nipple as she moaned, her breathing becoming erratic.

I began to stroke myself harder, faster as she moaned, crying out in ecstasy. Her body stilled as her breathing evened out, pulling the covers back over her. I heard her mutter as her eyes closed.

“I’m better than those two. I am fierce. I am the heir.”

I felt stars behind my eyes, something shooting out of me, dripping down onto her bed. I made my way out of her room silently, gently closing her bedroom window. I perched above her window, tired but satisfied.