Gargoyled at First Sight (Harmony Glen #13)

Chapter 1

Sammy

I’d been to exactly two weddings in my life before today, and neither of them had featured a gargoyle groom or taken place in a candlelit conservatory tucked inside a manor house that belonged in a fairy tale.

But then again, neither of those weddings had been for someone like Dazy, a person who’d become more like family in six months than most people I’d known for years.

The ceremony had been perfect. Small, intimate, with flowers spilling from every corner of the hidden glass room Feydin had built for Dazy.

I’d stood beside her as her maid of honor, holding her bouquet while she and Feydin exchanged vows that made even Dorvak the orc baker dab his eyes with the back of his hand.

My eight-year-old son, Corey, had been proud in his ring bearer suit, walking down the aisle with the rings tied to a silk pillow, his face full of concentration.

Now, sitting at the head table in the ballroom, I watched Dazy and Feydin dance and tried not to let longing creep too close to the surface.

The ballroom glowed with twinkle lights strung across the ceiling, mixing with moonlight that poured in through the tall windows overlooking the back garden.

Dazy’s white dress flowed around her legs as Feydin guided her across the floor, his wings spread slightly for balance.

His gray skin looked almost silver in this light, and the way he looked at her, like she was his entire world, made something twist in my chest.

After everything Dazy had been through, she deserved every bit of happiness Feydin could give her.

I just wasn’t sure I’d ever have something like that. Wasn’t sure I even wanted it anymore.

Corey’s voice cut through my thoughts. I glanced over to find him near the dessert table with a handful of other kids, his bow tie askew, chocolate frosting smeared on one cheek. He waved at me, grinning, and I waved back.

At least I had him. That was enough. It had to be.

Six months ago, I’d pulled into Harmony Glen in my beat-up Honda Civic with everything I owned crammed into boxes in the back seat and Corey buckled in beside me, clutching his stuffed triceratops.

The restaurant where I’d worked my way up from prep cook to sous chef and then to manager had been sold to a corporate chain, and they’d let all the staff go despite years of loyalty.

My apartment lease had been month-to-month.

My friends from the kitchen had scattered to new jobs in different cities.

I’d found a job posting online and looked into Harmony Glen. Small town, affordable, safe for kids. The job for someone to oversee the café and help manage the botanical gardens had seemed almost too good to be true.

Meeting Dazy had been terrifying. I’d been nervous walking into that interview, knowing I needed this job, needing her to see past my single mom desperation to the actual skills I could bring.

But she’d been warm from the first moment, asking about Corey, talking about her vision for the gardens, and offering me the position before I’d even finished my second cup of tea.

Our friendship had developed fast after that. Late nights in the manor’s kitchen while I planned menus and she told me stories about the garden and manor’s restoration, about Feydin, and about this quirky town full of monsters and humans. She’d treated me like family. Like I mattered.

When she’d asked me to be her maid of honor, I’d cried. Actually cried, right there in the café kitchen. No one had ever chosen me for something so important before.

And the temporary housing arrangement of two rooms in this sprawling manor gave me a chance to save money and give Corey the kind of stability I’d always wanted for him. It felt like the universe had finally decided to cut me a break.

Feydin’s hand rested protectively on Dazy’s back as he spun her, and that twist in my chest sharpened into something that hurt.

I’d thought I had something real once. Nine years ago, in a different town two states away, I’d met a man while hiking.

He’d been charming and attentive, sweeping me off my feet with weekend adventures and late-night conversations about the future.

I’d fallen fast and hard, thinking we were building something wonderful.

Then I’d found out about his wife through a Facebook post. The humiliation had been crushing. Every word he’d said to me had been a lie.

The pregnancy test two weeks later had turned my humiliation into pure terror.

I’d called him. Desperate, scared, hoping maybe there was some explanation, some way forward. His response had been cold enough to freeze blood. Money for an abortion. A text that said, “Never contact me again.”

I’d moved away instead. Started over. Raised Corey alone. Learned to trust only myself.

My judgment about men clearly couldn’t be trusted. Better not to try at all.

“Samantha?”

I jerked my attention away from the dance floor to find Gavrel standing beside the head table, tall and elegant in his perfectly pressed suit.

Feydin’s brother. The gargoyle who’d arrived from France yesterday and had somehow already gotten under my skin.

I told myself to ignore him. He’d be returning to France soon, anyway.

“It’s Sammy,” I said, keeping my voice pleasant. Professional. “No one calls me Samantha.”

“My apologies.” He inclined his head in that formal way he had, like he was in some period drama piece instead of a small-town wedding reception. “Sammy.”

The way he said my name, with that light French accent turning the syllables precise and musical, sounded condescending to my ears. Like he was humoring me.

We’d met this morning, before the ceremony, when Dazy introduced us. He’d actually bowed, a small, European thing that had made me feel awkward in my bridesmaid dress, not sure if I was supposed to curtsy or shake his hand or what. I’d settled for a wave that probably looked ridiculous.

The conversation that followed had been a minefield of missteps.

He’d made polite comments about American wedding traditions versus French customs that I’m sure were meant to be interesting but irked me for reasons I couldn’t quite name.

When I’d mentioned the café menu I’d been perfecting, he’d suggested “improvements,” things like adding more European pastries and elevating the tea service.

All stated in that same precise voice that sounded like judgment wrapped in politeness.

Maybe he’d meant to be helpful, but it had felt like criticism from someone who thought he knew better.

And he’d looked exhausted the whole time, his responses distant and distracted, like he couldn’t be bothered to engage with the small-town single mom his brother’s new wife had befriended.

My interpretation had been immediate and probably unfair. He thought he was better than me. Educated, worldly, sophisticated. Everything I wasn’t.

“I wanted to thank you for caring for Dazy,” Gavrel said now, his silver-gray eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made me shift in my seat. “Feydin tells me you’ve become very important to her.”

“She’s important to me too,” I said.

He nodded, his wings shifting against his back. They were darker than Feydin’s, the membrane catching the lights with a metallic sheen. “I am glad my brother has found happiness. And that Dazy has found friendship.”

The music was winding down. Dorvak was dancing with Laney, the tea expert who’d helped spread word about the gardens to tourists. A troll was attempting something that might’ve been a waltz, his seven-foot frame making the whole thing look precarious and precious at the same time.

Gavrel glanced toward the windows and the darkness beyond. “It’s a beautiful estate. I look forward to learning it.”

Something about the way he said “learning it” prickled through me. Like he was planning to take over. Study everything. Improve it, probably, just like he’d wanted to improve my menu.

“Dazy and I have been working really hard on the gardens,” I said, trying to keep the defensive edge out of my voice. “The café’s doing great. Visitor numbers are up.”

“I’m certain they are.” He sounded almost distracted. “You’ve done well.”

Like a teacher grading a student’s work.

I bit back my sharp response and forced a smile instead. “Thanks.”

The reception started winding down about an hour later, guests drifting toward the front of the manor for the send-off. I found Corey and straightened his bow tie, wiping the chocolate from his face with a napkin despite his squirming protests.

Outside, the early fall evening felt cool and perfect, stars visible beyond the glow of the manor’s lights. The whole town seemed to have turned out, humans and monsters together, all of them calling well-wishes as Dazy and Feydin made their way down the front steps.

Dorvak pressed a basket of pastries into Dazy’s hands. “For the journey.”

Laney tucked a small bag of tea blends into the basket. “Something to help you relax.”

Ogram grinned, his tusks gleaming. “Have fun, you two.”

Dazy turned to me before they left, pulling me aside while Feydin accepted handshakes and backslaps from the crowd.

“Take care of our baby,” she said, squeezing my hands, her eyes bright with happy tears.

“The gardens will be perfect when you get back,” I said. “Don’t worry about anything.”

“Gavrel’s still adjusting to being here. Be patient with him, okay?” She glanced over her shoulder to where Gavrel stood at the edge of the crowd, watching with that same distant expression. “He’s not as confident as he seems.”

I wanted to argue that he seemed plenty confident, but this was Dazy’s wedding day, and she knew her brother-in-law better than me. “I’ll do my best.”

“You’re going to be amazing. I trust you completely to run everything while we’re gone.” She hugged me tight. “Thanks for being willing to step in so we can get away.”

“Of course. I’m happy to help.”