Chapter 14
Gavrel
Iwoke to the sound of the tip of my tail thumping against the mattress, me wagging it like I was a cat.
Purring too.
Sammy lay curled against my chest, her breathing slow and even, one hand resting over my heart. My wing had remained draped across her during the night, and my tail had wound itself around her calf with what I could only describe as possessive enthusiasm.
Everything about this felt right in a way I’d never experienced before. Her scent surrounded me, mixing with mine on the sheets. The weight of her against me satisfied something feral I hadn’t known needed satisfying.
My mate. Mine to protect, to cherish, to keep safe.
I adjusted the blankets, making sure she was warm enough. The early morning light filtered through the curtains, highlighting her hair spread across my chest. I carefully brushed a strand away from her face.
She made a small sound, burrowing closer.
This was what home felt like. Not a house or a country or even a city. This woman in my arms, her son down the hall.
“Mommy?” Corey’s voice drifted up from downstairs. “Are you making breakfast today?”
Sammy stirred, her eyes fluttering open. She looked up at me, and a slow smile spread across her face.
“Morning,” she said.
“Morning.”
She started to sit up. I tightened my hold, not ready to let her go yet.
“Corey’s calling,” she said, but she wasn’t trying very hard to escape.
“He can wait thirty seconds.”
I kissed her, slow and thorough, savoring the sleepy warmth of her mouth. When we broke apart, her cheeks had flushed that pretty pink I was becoming addicted to.
“Now he can have his breakfast,” I said.
She laughed, pushing at my chest. “You’re terrible.”
“You like it.”
“I certainly do.”
She tried to slip out of bed, but my wing curved around her, keeping her in place while I pressed kisses along her shoulder.
“Gavrel,” she said, but there was no heat in it. “I need to get dressed.”
“I can help with that.”
“You’re going to do the opposite of help.”
“Probably.”
I released her reluctantly, watching as she stood and stretched. I had to remind myself that Corey was waiting downstairs and pouncing on her right now would be selfish.
She caught me staring and grabbed a pillow, throwing it at my head with a laugh. “Stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re thinking about skipping breakfast entirely.”
“I am thinking about that.”
She grabbed clothes from her dresser, holding them against her chest. “Bathroom. Now.”
I got up, my wings spreading as I stretched. When I moved toward her, she backed up until she hit the wall.
“You need to get dressed too,” she whispered, her gaze on my erect cock.
“I will.” I caged her against the wall with my arms, careful not to crush her. “Eventually.”
My wing curved forward, the tip stroking down her side. She shivered, her breath catching.
“That’s not fair,” she said.
“What isn’t, chérie?”
“Using your wings like that.”
“Like what?” I trailed the tip across her nipple.
“We’re going to end up back in bed.”
“Would that be so terrible?”
Her eyes darkened, but she shook her head. “Yes, if Corey comes stomping up here looking for me.”
With a sigh, I stepped back. She was right.
“Later,” I said.
“Definitely later.”
“I…” She shook her head. “I need to tell you that, when we first met, I thought you were snooty.”
My laugh rang out. “Snooty, me?”
She sighed. “I was wrong and I wanted to tell you.”
“I’m glad you did. Now that it’s settled, I’ll make breakfast,” I said. “You shower properly.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I want to.”
She studied my face for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. Thank you.”
I dressed and headed downstairs, finding Corey at the kitchen table with a coloring book spread out in front of him.
“Morning,” I said.
He looked up. “Morning.” He went back to his coloring. “Can you make French toast? Mom showed me how, but I’m not allowed to use the stove by myself.”
“French toast it is.”
I moved around the kitchen, pulling out eggs and bread and cinnamon, enjoying how domestic the tasks made me feel.
Corey chattered while I cooked. Something about ecosystems, with elaborate food chains that may or may not have been scientifically accurate.
“Does your tail ever get tired?” he asked. “Like, from swishing all the time?”
I glanced behind me. My tail was indeed swishing, all on its own. “Sometimes.”
“That’s so sick. I wish I had a tail.”
“They can be inconvenient. I’ve knocked over more furniture than I care to admit.”
“Yeah, but you can use it to hold stuff. Or trip people you don’t like.”
“That would be rude.”
“But you could.”
I plated the French toast just as Sammy came down the stairs, looking amazing in jeans and a sweater.
Corey looked between us, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You both look happy.”
“Do we?” Sammy said, her voice carefully neutral.
“Yeah. Different happy than before. Like, extra happy.”
I set plates on the table, catching Sammy’s eye. She bit her lip, clearly trying not to laugh.
“Is that bad?” I asked Corey.
“No. It’s good. I like it when Mom’s happy.” He picked up his fork. “And you’re happy too, which is also good because you make really excellent French toast.”
“High praise,” Sammy said, sitting down.
Under the table, my tail found her ankle. She shot me a smile.
We ate breakfast. Corey dominated the conversation, but every so often Sammy and I would exchange glances, small smiles that felt like secrets.
I wanted this every morning.
After breakfast, I flew Corey to school. He was getting more comfortable with the flights, peering around and pointing out sights below.
“Can we do a barrel roll?” he asked as we approached the school.
“Your mother would kill me.”
“She wouldn’t have to know.”
“I would tell her. I’m not good at keeping secrets from your mom.”
He sighed. “Fine. But someday?”
“Someday when you’re older.”
I set him down gently in the designated drop-off area. Several other students stared, but Corey just waved goodbye to me and ran to meet his friends.
Flying back to the manor, I found myself grinning like a fool.
The staff meeting started at nine. I stood closer to Sammy than I normally would, and when Jim gave directions about the south garden irrigation, I found my wing had extended, curving toward her.
Jim noticed. His eyes crinkled with approval, but he didn’t comment.
After the meeting dispersed, I headed to my clearing. The male gnome was nearly finished, just detail work left on the facial features and clothing texture.
I started a new block. Didn’t plan it, didn’t think about it. My hands moved, roughing out a female form to complement the male.
A mate for my gnome.
Hours later, Sammy appeared with a sandwich and coffee.
“I thought you might be hungry,” she said.
I set down my tools, accepting the food. “Thank you.”
She stayed, watching me work. I ate quickly.
“Come here,” I said. “I want to show you how to read wood grain.”
She moved closer, and I positioned myself behind her, sliding my hand down to meet up with hers.
“Feel here,” I said, guiding her fingers along the grain. “See how it flows? You want to work with it, not against it.”
My wings spread, creating a private space around us. Her scent wrapped around me, and I had to concentrate to keep my voice steady.
“What happens if you go against it?” she asked.
“The wood fights you and doesn’t shape cleanly.”
I moved her hand to another section, demonstrating the difference. She leaned back, her body warm against mine.
“This is not as educational as you’re pretending it is,” she said.
“I’m teaching you valuable skills.”
“Your tail just wrapped around my waist.”
“Safety precaution.”
She turned her head, looking up at me. Our faces were close enough to kiss.
Jim started the lawn mower with a clatter and a roar.
We sprang apart. Sammy’s face flushed, and I forced my wings to fold properly against my back.
“I should go,” she said.
“Probably wise.”
She left, and I returned to my carving, my tail lashing in frustration.
Later that night, I helped with dinner. Sammy chopped vegetables while I handled the pasta, and we moved around the kitchen like we’d been doing this for years instead of just over a week.
My tail snaked out, hooking around her ankle. She yelped, stumbling forward. I caught her, one arm around her waist.
“Gotcha,” I said.
She looked up at me, pretending to frown. “Did you trip me on purpose?”
“Gargoyle reflexes. They’re very important for catching clumsy humans.”
“I wasn’t clumsy until your tail attacked me.”
“Are you sure? Human coordination is notoriously poor.”
She swatted my chest. “Let me go before I burn the sauce.”
I released her, but my tail remained close, twitching with satisfaction.
Corey watched this exchange with barely concealed amusement. “You two are weird.”
“Your mom started it,” I said.
“I most certainly did not.”
“You walked into my tail’s path.”
“Your tail should watch where it’s going.”
Corey laughed so hard he nearly fell off his chair.
The next morning, Sammy met me in the clearing after dropping Corey off at school. She brought two cups of coffee and settled onto a log I’d positioned near my work space.
“Is this going to be a regular thing?” I asked, accepting the coffee.
“Maybe. If you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind one bit.”
We sat quietly together, watching the sun rise higher over the trees. My tail curled around the log between us, the tip resting near her hand.
She touched it, stroking along the ridged scales. The sensation shot straight through me.
“Sensitive?” she asked.
“Very.”
“Good to know.”
She kept stroking, and I had to focus very hard on my coffee to keep from doing something impulsive like pulling her into my lap.
I’d love it if this became our routine. Mid-morning coffee, quiet conversation, the sun painting everything gold. Then I’d work while she did her garden and café rounds, and we’d meet up again for lunch.
I gave her another lesson, this one more intimate. My hands guided hers on tools. Her body pressed against mine as I showed her techniques. The scent of her was driving me slowly out of my mind.
After we’d finished, she entered the shed to collect something.
I followed, finding her reaching for supplies on a high shelf. I came up behind her, retrieving what she needed. But when I set it down, I didn’t step back. My body caged hers against the shelving, my arms bracketing her on either side.
She turned in the small space, leaving us close enough that I could count her freckles.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi.”
I extended my wing, pushing the door. It slammed shut, the sound loud in the quiet shed.
I kissed her, and the last thread of my control snapped.
Her back hit the wall, and she made that sound I loved, the one that drove me wild at night. My hands went to her waist, lifting her. She wrapped her legs around me, her fingers digging into my shoulders.
“Someone could come looking,” she said against my mouth.
“Let them.”
I wound my tail around her thigh, holding her steady while my hands explored her breasts and sides. She reached up, brushing the sensitive membrane of my wing.
I growled, the sound rumbling through my chest.
“Sorry,” she gasped.
“Don’t be. Do it again.”
She stroked along the edge. My hips jerked forward.
We were both frantic now, hands fumbling with clothes. Not removing them entirely, but enough for access. Urgency overrode finesse.
I got her jeans open, pushed them and her underwear down to her ankles. She stepped out of one side. My own pants and boxers followed, hiked down to my thighs. And then I was lifting her again, positioning her.
“Yes,” she said. “Please.”
I pushed in, the angle rough but filling our needs. She clung to me, her face buried in my neck.
The shed was cramped, dusty sunbeams slanting through a small window. Anyone walking by might hear us. The risk of it made everything more intense.
As I pumped and thrust, my tail tightened around her thigh, spreading her wider. She moaned, the sound muffled against my skin.
I used measured strokes to drive her closer to the brink.
“Let go,” she groaned into my skin. “You’re holding back.”
Her words unlocked the last of my restraint. I moved harder, faster, driven by the need to claim her.
Her scent was everywhere, mixing with mine.
She climaxed first, her body tightening around me. I followed after, my wings spreading wide, knocking tools off shelves.
We stayed locked together, our eyes locked together.
“Okay?” I asked when I could speak again.
“Very okay.” Her laugh came out shaky. “Though I think I have splinters in unfortunate places.”
I eased her down carefully and helped her dress.
“Sorry for the splinters,” I said.
“Don’t be. That was wonderful.”
“I’ll be happy to pluck them out later if you’d like.”
She grinned. “I’ll let you know.”
We helped each other straighten our clothing, fix our hair, and brush off dust and dirt. My hands lingered on her waist, reluctant to let go.
“Sammy?” Claire’s voice called from somewhere near the café. “You around anywhere?”
We both froze.
“Coming,” Sammy called back. She looked up at me, her eyes still dark. “See you later?”
“Definitely.”
She slipped out of the shed, and I waited a few moments before following. My tail wouldn’t stop twitching, and my wings felt too large for my body, spread with pride and satisfaction.
I watched her walk toward the café, her scent still on my skin, mine on hers. My claiming instinct purred with contentment.
She was mine. And I was hers, completely.
I needed to call the realtor, accelerate the house purchase. She deserved better than stolen moments in storage sheds. She deserved a proper home, a nest I could build for our family.
My family.
The thought settled in my chest and felt amazingly right.
I headed back to my clearing, already planning. The house would need work, but I could do most of it myself. A new kitchen for her. A big room for Corey. Space for all of us to grow into.
Home wasn’t a place. It was the people who filled it.
And I’d finally found mine.