23.
King
T he moment I step back into the Veil, the sight of her nearly brings me to my knees. Julia stands right there, just by the edge of the pine forest, waiting for me. She’s trembling, her face streaked with tears of excitement. Her hair, however, is a wild mess, and her clothes are all torn and bloodied, making me sick at the thought of what she’s been through. But she’s alive.
She’s alive.
I close the distance between us in two long strides, pulling her into my arms and off the ground with a desperation I can’t contain. She’s so fragile yet so fiercely alive, and I bury my face in her curls, inhaling her scent like it’s the only thing tethering me to sanity.
“Julia,” I whisper, my voice raw and shaky.
Her arms wrap around my neck, legs circling my waist, as she clings to me, her body finally relaxing against mine. She doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t need to. I feel the weight of her fear, her relief, her exhaustion, all of it flooding through the bond that’s now fully reconnected and stronger than ever.
But as I hold her, that perfect moment is slowly eclipsed by another feeling—a dark rage that simmers up from somewhere deep within me.
The fucking gargoyle.
I pull back just enough to look at her face, my hands cradling her cheeks as I check for injuries. No cuts or bruises—he healed her completely… but that doesn’t matter. My heart clenches anyway, a heavy fist that won’t let go. Nothing will take away the memory of the pain she felt. Because of him.
I glance up, and there he is, standing nearby, watching us in silence. He’s a figure of stone—literally and metaphorically—but today, he seems smaller, diminished under the weight of his guilt. His posture is defeated, his shoulders are slumped, his wings tucked close to his back, and his eyes meet mine with something that looks like resignation.
He knows. He knows what’s coming.
I lower Julia gently back onto her feet, and my anger flares, a flame I can't extinguish. I turn to face him with a loud snarl.
“No, Alex, don’t!” Julia’s voice rings out behind me, sharp and pleading, but it does nothing to stem the tsunami of fury crashing over me.
“He left you!” I growl, my voice thunderous, echoing off the castle walls.
“He came back!” she argues, stepping forward, but I keep my eyes locked on the gargoyle, my rage blinding me to everything but him. “He was ready to sacrifice himself for me,” she continues, her voice breaking, raw with emotion.
“He left you,” I repeat. The words taste bitter in my mouth, but they feel like the only fucking truth in the world right now.
“Alex,” she says again, softer this time. “I’m good. We’re good. He doesn’t deserve it.”
Oh, yes, he does.
Before she can say another word, I leap forward, my claws extended, and every ounce of animosity I’ve been holding back seethes to the surface. The gargoyle doesn’t even flinch as I slam into him, my weight driving him to the ground. His back cracks against the dirt, the earth shakes with force, and I roar into his face—an inhuman, guttural sound that tears through my soul like a jagged knife.
My claws find his chest, raking down with savage precision. The flesh resists for a split second before it yields, peeling away like weathered leather. Dark purple blood erupts from the deep gashes, splattering onto my hands, soaking into my fur, and pooling beneath us. The sight of it only fuels the fire inside me.
“Alex! Alex, please stop it!” Julia screams, her panicked voice cuts through the chaos, but it barely registers. Her words are a fleeting echo, lost in the hurricane of my wrath. I am beyond reason, beyond restraint. All I see is red, my vision blurring with an unrelenting frenzy, the blood pumping in my ears.
I can’t stop. I won’t . Every drop of blood, every broken piece of him feels like one step closer to quelling the storm of vengeance inside me.
And the fucking bastard just lies there. He doesn’t counterattack. Doesn’t even attempt to block my strikes. His eyes stay fixed on mine, steady and unblinking, as if silently agreeing with every strike I land. His silence speaks louder than any plea for mercy. It’s a grim confirmation of his guilt that infuriates me more. It mocks me, taunts me, drives me deeper into this haze, stirring the beast inside me.
“Fight back, damn you!” I roar, my voice feral, my breath coming in ragged bursts. My claws sink into his abdomen this time, blood drenching my hands as I tear through the thick hide that guards his core, slashing muscle. But without him defending himself, the resistance of his body, that slow yield of his flesh to my strength, gives me absolutely nothing.
I raise my claws, and a snarl rips from my throat as I aim for his heart. But something in his eyes stops me. Even now, they’re locked on mine, filled with an unspoken acceptance. His calm compliance freezes me mid-swing. Then I realize.
He wants this.
For a moment, the madness clears just enough for me to see him. See him for who he truly is—a broken shell of a creature that lies beneath his stony exterior.
The inferno inside me is still raging, but the sight of him—wrecked, battered, and unmoving—gives me pause. Every fiber of my being is screaming to finish him, to rip him apart until there’s nothing left.
But he's not worth it.
With a growl of frustration, I release him and stand above him, chest heaving. My claws drip with his blood, and the air around us is thick and heavy with tension.
The gargoyle groans in pain—the sound is music to my ears—as he slowly pushes himself up, his posture looming but unsteady. The deep slashes across his chest are already beginning to close, his healing working far too quickly for my enjoyment.
“Get out. Get the fuck out!” I bellow, lifting him in the air by the throat. His breath rasps faintly against my tightening grip. I slam him back down, his head bouncing off the ground with an audible thud. The heavy impact sends small rocks and debris flying, dust clinging to the blood and sweat covering my fur.
“No,” he says, getting up, his voice steady despite the fresh wounds. “I’m not leaving her.”
I let out a sharp, bitter laugh, the sound twisted and cruel. My hand tightens into a fist, claws digging into my palm, and I swing, putting my full weight behind it. My knuckles connect with his jaw, and he stumbles back but doesn’t fall. He spits blood, yet his eyes never waver.
“Get. Out!” I growl, slashing at his face from the opposite direction this time. My claws tear through this cheek, leaving deep grooves, as his head snaps to the other side. “You’re no longer welcome here.”
Behind me, I feel Julia’s presence, her warmth cutting through the icy revenge consuming me. Her soft hand brushes against mine, her touch gentle but firm, grounding me when I can barely keep myself together.
“He came back,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper, like that fact could change everything.
“And what if he didn’t?” I counter, my voice snappy, though the anger is already beginning to ebb, the fire in my veins slowly dying down.
“But he did.” She’s not backing down. “Alex, you didn’t see it… how he fought for me. Lilith —he fought Lilith, all by himself. He obviously feels bad about what he did. It was a moment of misjudgment on his part. He couldn’t have known—”
“No, he knew exactly what the fuck was about to happen!” I yell, my rage overwhelming me once again, too immense to hold back any longer.
A split second later, I leap at him and snap his neck, the loud crack filling the air as he collapses to the ground. Immediately, Julia rushes to him, crying out in horror. I hook my arm around her waist, catching her before she has time to overreact.
“He’s fine,” I tell her, grabbing her full attention. “It’s not that easy to kill a gargoyle.”
It really isn’t. Created as guardians and healers, gargoyles were vastly powerful beings—and Vernox is the last and the strongest of them all. But healing from a severed spinal cord is still excruciating for him.
Julia doesn’t need to know that, though.
Her bottom lip wobbles as she looks up at me. “Alex, don’t be so cruel.”
“Cruel?”
“You and I are both alive thanks to him.”
I glare at her, my heart twisting in ways I can’t describe. “No, you were in this predicament because of him.” The words explode from me like a bomb, but the guttural sound in my chest doesn’t feel like my own. “What matters is that he abandoned you in the dark forest at night. He endangered you on purpose. He chose to walk away when you were so terrified and vulnerable. And now he thinks he can just come back and live among us because he vowed to serve you?”
“But he chose to come back, too. That counts for something. He’s not a lost cause.”
Before I can respond, Vernox awakens from his almost -death. He rises again, cracking his neck back into place with a pop, and dusts off his wings. I can’t lie—it’s satisfying. I feel a twisted sense of calm washing over me, easing me enough to speak without losing control.
“You know what, you’re right. It’s on me ,” I say to Julia, then turn to face him. “I should have never trusted you to begin with. But I thought you were more honorable. I thought you’d put your bias toward me aside for the sake of her innocent life. Yet, you knowingly handed her over to Lilith, just so you could… what exactly? Go fly off into the night, alone, where you’d be tracked by the hunters and killed?” My voice is like venom. “And she might have already forgiven you because that’s who she is. But I will never forget what you did. You have no place here.”
Julia sighs, beaten and worried. “Maybe it’s better if you go for now,” she says softly to him. I can tell they’ve become friendly with each other… because, of course, they did, just to piss me the hell off.
Vernox’s gaze shifts to her, something deep and sorrowful flickering in his eyes. “I’m not leaving you,” he blurts out, his voice rough, the finality in his tone undeniable.
I swing at him with another strike, this time to his ribs, and the crunch of breaking bones vibrates up my arm.
“Please! Can’t you just give him another chance?” Julia says, looking back at me. Her voice trembles slightly, but she’s pleading. This is just fucking what I need—her big doe eyes warming me up to him. “Alex, he almost died for me.”
“Good,” I growl, my chest tightening with possessive anger. “She should have killed him. Why the hell is he still alive?”
“Someone showed up,” she explains, her gaze drifting to the gargoyle. “Some witch, I think.”
My eyes narrow, snapping at him. “Who was it?” I demand, my voice sharp with suspicion.
He hesitates, his normally stoic face cracking for the first time. “I’m not sure…” he begins, but then falters, his voice dropping into something softer, almost wistful. “I thought… but it couldn’t possibly…”
The audible longing catches my attention. I don’t know much about him—his past is a tightly guarded secret—but I do know one thing: the name of the witch who awakened him long ago.
“Esmeralda?” I ask, my voice cutting through the tension like a blade.
He freezes. The flicker of something passes across his face. Pain? Hope? I’m unsure, it's gone too quickly for me to grasp. A crease shows up on his forehead, and for a moment, he looks like he's battling something deep inside.
“She… no,” he says, shaking his head slowly, his voice lower now. “It’s impossible. Even Dahlia and Farah working together couldn’t resurrect her.”
Julia looks between us, her brows furrowing in confusion. “Who’s Esmeralda?” she asks cautiously.
I don’t answer her, my focus is locked on the gargoyle. His usual confidence is gone, replaced by an undercurrent of vulnerability I’ve never seen before.
“It wasn’t her,” he mutters, almost to himself. “It couldn’t have been.” But the doubt lingers in his voice.
I take a long pause, my eyes glued to Julia as she’s waiting for me to rise above. “You can stay until tomorrow,” I finally say on exhale. “I expect to see you at the council meeting once the rest returns. Farah is going to want to hear about this.”
Vernox nods to that. Then, with a powerful beat of his wings, he launches himself into the air, disappearing into the shadows of the castle’s highest tower.
Julia steps closer, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “See? Wasn’t that hard to let go, was it?”
She doesn’t understand. And that’s alright. How could she?
The truth is, the only person I should be angry at is myself .
I was the one who left her—scared, alone, and defenseless against everything I should have protected her from.
I reach for her, pulling her into my arms once more. Her tiny body sinks deep into my fur while I hold her closely as though she might vanish if I let go.
“I’m so sorry,” I murmur, burying my snout into her hair. “I keep failing you. Over and over again.”
“Alex, stop,” she mumbles into my torso, wrapping her arms around my waist. “Nobody could predict that.”
“I should have predicted that. Me .”
“You didn’t know Lilith’s power, although subdued, is strong enough to blind the mating bond,” she reasons, her tone soothing. “Please, don’t blame yourself for that.”
But we both know I’ll carry that guilt with me forever.
“Are you still in combat mode? Because you didn’t even say hi to me and I’ve been so scared,” she complains playfully.
I smirk. “Hi.”
We kiss barely a moment later, her despair palpable. She never signed up for this. Any of this. The horror she went through when she believed in a fairytale. My heart feels heavy yet full as I deepen the kiss, pouring all my love for her into it.
“God, how I missed you!” She pulls back just slightly, her eyes studying me carefully. “Look at yourself. You’re all bloody.”
I do feel disgusting with all this gunk on me, but at least all my injuries healed on the way, and she doesn’t have to see that.
“You are too, you know.”
She shakes her head, letting out a short giggle. “So, you really ran from Nevada? All the way, no stopping, nothing? That’s some impressive stamina!” she jokes, her eyes sparkling, as she tries to lighten up the mood.
With a single movement of my arm, I sweep her off her feet and carry her toward the castle. I see that something is bothering her, but I wait for her to speak up.
“Do you think I’m na?ve?” she asks suddenly, her voice soft but curious.
I glance down at her, slightly amused. “You’re insubordinate , that much is certain,” I tease, though I realize she’s looking for a serious answer. “ Na?ve is a strong word,” I continue after a beat. “You have a very gentle way of seeing the world, below all that sarcasm and self-deprecating humor. You trust so easily because you always want to see good in others. And I love that about you.”
Her lips curve into a smile, tears spilling from her eyes. “I’m so thankful you’re back,” she whispers, her voice breaking.
“And I’m never leaving you again,” I promise, holding her closer as we step through the gates.