Chapter 12
THALRIC
Ever since I returned to my family cave and my room, I keep thinking about Aurora. As I lie on my back, wings stretched wide, staring at the stars through the open arch, I am still in awe that she chose me.
Tomorrow, we’ll inform our families. Then we’ll leave for the capital where she’ll apprentice as an apothecary, and I’ll train to become a royal guard, just like my family before me.
I’ll build her a nest lined with the softest furs, shelves filled with gemstones, herbs, and anything else she desires. A sanctuary made to her liking.
My tail flicks lazily as a rumble of contentment rises from my chest.
Without warning, a tremor moves through me, like a tether tugging deep within. Dawning awareness fills me. This must be the start of the bond—the connection that forms between mates. I’ve heard stories of its pull, but I never imagined it would feel as strong as this.
My heart stutters then surges. Aurora is near.
I get to my feet and stride toward the balcony. She’s standing below, cloak clutched tight, hair loose around her pale face.
Panic ripples through me as the saline scent of her tears touches my nostrils. Without hesitation, I launch myself into the night, wings catching the air before I land in front of her with a loud thud.
“Aurora.” I catch her face in my hands, my tail curling instinctively around her waist, as I frantically search for any signs of injury. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
She shakes her head. “We have to go. Tonight. Now. To the temple. We’ll marry there. Then no one can tear us apart.”
Her words crash over me, desperate and wild. “Slow down,” I murmur, pulling her closer. “Why are you so upset? What’s happened? Why—”
The air shifts behind me, and I freeze, recognizing the cadence of my father’s footsteps before I even turn around.
My father steps out of the shadows, Fiora at his side, his face set in a grim look.
“You cannot marry,” my father says.
“Why?” I challenge. “Because I’m stone-born and she’s human? I don’t care.”
“It’s not that,” Fiora replies.
“Then what is it?”
“Aurora is not who you believe she is. She is Princess Rose of Briarwyn.”
The words strike like a hammer blow. “You’re wrong.” I gaze down at Auri. “The princess is under protection at the Temple of Amara. She—”
“That is a lie,” my father interrupts, his voice heavy as granite. “One created to distract Malvara—the Goblin witch who cursed her. The true princess was hidden here so we could keep her safe from the witch’s reach. With us.” He gestures between him and Fiora. “With you.”
My claws flex, scraping stone. “That cannot be.”
“It is,” Fiora says. “And now it is time for her to return home. To her mother and father—the king and queen of Briarwyn.”
My grip tightens. Aurora presses closer as my tail cinches around her. “Why didn’t you say anything before now?” I demand.
“Because my oath demanded I keep this secret,” my father says. “I was the king’s protector. When the curse was cast, he charged me with guarding the most precious thing he had—his daughter. I was removed from his side so I could be beside hers.”
He looks at me, and I see the pattern laid into our bones long before either of us was named. “As my father guarded the king, and his father the one before him, you were raised to guard the heir—Princess Rose of Briarwyn.”
All the years of training he gave me, they were not just so I could one day become a royal guard, but so that I could guard the future of the royal line. He was teaching me to protect her, even when we were mere children.
Like my father before me, I was carved for duty. There is nothing I wouldn’t do—nothing I would not sacrifice—to keep her safe, no matter the cost to myself.
“I—” My throat closes on the word. Shock scraping at the edges of everything I’ve ever believed.
“You say she’s been in hiding because of a curse.
” Fierce protectiveness surges through me as Aurora hugs me tighter.
I curl my wings around her, wishing I could shield her from the world.
“Is it safe to return her to the castle?”
Fiora exchanges a concerned look with my father before returning her attention to me. “We don’t have a choice,” she says soberly. “Aurora has had dreams of a spinning wheel.”
My heart stops as I remember Auri’s nightmares. “What does that have to do with all of this?”
“It’s part of her curse.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, trying to contain my growing panic at the thought of Aurora in danger. “Tell me.”
Fiora exhales, her wings trembling. “The Goblin witch—Malvara—cursed Aurora to die by pricking her finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel before her twenty-third birthday.”
Red magic sparks and rises from Fiora’s palm, shaping into a wheel of shadow and flame, its carved spokes turning quickly.
A spindle gleams at the center like a sharpened needle, black silken thread winding around it.
The air hums with the faint scrape of metal against wood, the sound setting my teeth on edge.
“But Maribel altered it,” Fiora continues. “She softened the dark spell. If it ever takes hold, Aurora will not die. She will fall into an enchanted sleep.”
I tighten my arms around her. “Shouldn’t we stay here? Isn’t it safer for her to remain in hiding?”
Fiora shakes her head. “Aurora’s nightmares can only mean one thing: the witch must be close to finding her. She must have somehow discovered the princess was not at the Temple of Arama. Malvara is powerful. She will do anything she can to make sure Aurora succumbs to her dark spell.”
“How can we break it?” I ask.
“If the curse comes to pass, Aurora will fall into an enchanted sleep until awakened by the kiss of fate’s chosen—a prince bound by prophecy and a devotion etched deep into the heart.”
“Who are you talking about?”
“Prince Ryllen of Andoryn,” my father replies. “She has been betrothed to him since birth.”
Aurora trembles against me, and I fold my wings around her, desperate to shield her. “I don’t care about curses or princes,” she chokes out. Tears stream down her cheeks as she clings tighter. “I choose Thalric, and he chooses me.”
Pain shadows my father’s face, but his voice is steady. “Just as I am, and your grandfather before me… we are stone carved in the shape of duty, my son. We guard and protect the future of Briarwyn.”
His stoic expression softens with regret. “I’m sorry we kept this from you. You were raised together, just as I was raised with the princess’s father. It was done to strengthen the bond of protection.”
He shakes his head. “We never once considered the two of you might—” He clenches his jaw.
“If you care for her, you must let her go, Thalric. If you do not, the curse could take her. She could sleep for a hundred years or more. Only her marriage to Ryllen—only that bond—can break Malvara’s dark magic. ”
My tail cinches hard enough around Aurora’s waist that I force myself to loosen it. The war inside me is not noble. It is brutal and animal and selfish. I want to steal her away into the dark, somewhere that fate cannot take her.
I want to press every memory we’ve ever made into the hollow of her throat, giving her my claiming mark so nothing and no one can take her from me.
But deep down, I understand the truth: stone doesn’t bend to wishes.
Cold fills me as I draw in a ragged breath. Slowly, I unfold my wings and force my arms to my sides. Curling my hands into fists, my sharp claws bite into my palms as I force myself to do what must be done. “Aurora, we cannot be together.”
“No.” Betrayal and pain burn in her eyes. “You don’t love me,” she whispers. “If you truly did, you wouldn’t be able to let me go.”
“Aurora, I don’t have a choice.”
“Yes, you do.” Her voice shakes as she fights back tears. “You could choose me. You could fight for me, Thalric… fight for us. But you won’t.”
Desperate to explain, I reach for her before I remember why I must not. She shoves against my chest with all her strength. Pain rips through me as her sobs tear into me like claws.
“Fiora was right.” Her voice is raw and bitter. “A gargoyle’s heart is stone. It cannot love the way a human’s can. And I was a fool to believe otherwise.”
Her words splinter something inside me. My tail lashes against the ground, aching to curl around her, to hold her tight, and hide her away from the world. But she’s already backing away.
“Aurora, please—”
“Stop,” she snaps. “I don’t want to hear your excuses.”
Before I can say anything else, she spins and runs, her cloak streaming behind her, swallowed by the darkness.
I start to go after her, but my father clamps a hand on my shoulder. “Let her go, my son.”
Fiora’s wings catch the moonlight as she disappears into the night, chasing Aurora’s fleeing form.
My claws score lines in the rock beneath my feet as my heart pounds against the cage of my chest, demanding what I can no longer give it.
Staring into the darkness, I build a wall inside myself so that what I have just broken to save her does not break me past my usefulness. Aurora’s life is at stake, and I will endure any pain to keep her safe. Her life is all that matters to me.
Auri believes I do not love her, but she is wrong. A gargoyle’s heart is stone… not because it cannot love, but because it is unyielding, immovable… eternal. Once it chooses, that choice cannot be undone.
And my heart has chosen her. Only her. Always. Even if the curse rips her from me, even if fate itself tears us apart, I will never stop being hers.
Tomorrow, I will do my duty. Tonight, I learn how to breathe without her.