Chapter 21
Gavrel
My tail lashed hard enough to crack against the porch railing.
She thought I was leaving. That I’d been pulling away to build a life without her.
Every careful word I’d rehearsed to tell her about the house and the bond evaporated like mist.
“No,” I pretty much growled.
My claws had extended without my intention, leaving marks in the swing’s armrest.
Sammy’s eyes widened. “No?”
“You think I’m leaving. That I’ve been distancing myself to make it easier when I go.”
“Aren’t you?” Her voice stayed steady, but her hands twisted in her lap. “You’ve barely looked at me in days. You disappeared to your house every chance you got. You’re building a new life without us. Without me.”
“I need to show you something,” I said. “Please. Trust me enough to come with me?”
“Gavrel—”
“Just come with me. Please. Then if you want me to leave, I will. But I need you to see something first.”
She studied my face, and whatever she found there made her nod slowly. “Okay.”
I stood, offering my hand. She took it, her fingers disappearing in my palm.
I tucked her against my chest, my arms secure around her, and I leaped off the top step of the porch, taking flight.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“My house.”
She stiffened, but she didn’t protest.
The flight took forever and no time at all. The house appeared below, sitting quietly in the late afternoon light.
I landed on the front walk but didn’t release her. I couldn’t quite make myself let go yet.
She frowned up at me. “You’re shaking.”
“I’m terrified.”
“Of what?”
“That you’ll see what I’ve done and think I’m out of my mind.”
Her expression softened. “Show me.”
I set her down, my hands lingering at her waist before I forced myself to step back.
The key stuck in the lock like it always did. I jiggled it, my claws making the simple task harder.
Finally, it opened.
The entryway still needed work, but I’d cleaned it. Cleared out the old furniture and swept away dirt and debris. Natural light poured through windows I’d washed.
Sammy stepped inside, her gaze tracking across the space.
I moved past her, my tail twitching. “This way.”
The reading nook sat just off the main hallway. I’d spent three nights getting it perfect. Built-in bookshelves lined two walls, their wood freshly sanded and ready for staining. A window seat stretched beneath the large window, cushions already ordered and waiting for delivery.
Sammy stopped in the doorway, her hand flying to her throat.
I’d painted her name above in careful script. Sammy’s Reading Nook.
“You said you wanted a space just for you,” I said quietly. “Somewhere to read without interruption. The light here is perfect in the afternoons.”
She moved closer, her fingers reaching toward the painted letters. Her shoulders shook.
“As you remember, the kitchen’s this way.” Before I could lose my nerve, I led her down the hall.
The kitchen was the one room where I’d made real progress.
New appliances waiting to be installed. Countertops had been ordered in the style she’d mentioned once while we cooked dinner together at the manor.
The layout opened to maximize workspace while maintaining the cozy feel she’d mentioned liking.
“I thought about your cooking style,” I said, my words coming fast. “How you like to move between prep and stove. The flow you need. This layout will give you that.”
Her hand pressed against the counter, steadying herself.
Up the stairs, my wings brushing the walls in the narrow space. The first bedroom at the top faced the back garden.
“This would be Corey’s room.” I pushed the door open. “The blue paint will go. I thought we could let him choose the color. There’s space for his Lego table here, and a desk would go by the window so he can see the garden while he does homework.”
Sammy made a sound I couldn’t interpret.
The master bedroom sat at the end of the hall. I’d fixed the French doors, their mechanisms smooth now. The view beyond showed the lake and the shore cleared of overgrown brush.
“The bed will be custom-made,” I said. “Large enough for a male with wings.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks. “I don’t understand.”
“Come outside. Please. There’s more.”
The back garden was still overgrown, but I’d cleared a section near the house. Rich soil lay prepared, ready for planting.
“You said you wanted a wildflower garden.” My tail curled around my own leg, seeking something to hold onto. “I cleared this space for you. Once you tell me what you want to plant, I’ll help you put it in.”
She stood in the open area, her shoulders shaking harder now.
“This isn’t your house,” she said. “It’s ours.”
“Yes.”
“You’ve been preparing it for us. For you, me, and Corey.”
“Yes.”
“When were you going to tell me?” She spun around, her face wet. “When were you planning to mention you’d been creating a home for us here?”
“I don’t know. I kept waiting for the right moment. For it to be perfect enough. For you to be ready to hear it.”
“Ready to hear what exactly?”
This was it. The moment I’d been dreading and desperately needing.
I moved to the garden bench I’d positioned overlooking the lake, the same view we’d admired when we’d first seen this place.
“Sit with me,” I said, patting the bench beside me. “Please.”
She did, her hands folded in her lap, her body angled toward me.
My wings spread partway, seeking balance I couldn’t find. “I need to tell you something about gargoyle biology.”
Her expression shifted to wariness.
“We have fated mates,” I said. “Soul recognition. It’s instantaneous and permanent. When a gargoyle meets their mate, they know. There’s no question, no doubt. Just absolute certainty.”
She’d gone very still.
“I knew you were mine from almost the first moment.” The words scraped my throat raw. “I knew at Dazy and Feydin’s wedding. Something in me just…recognized you.”
Her breath caught. “And you didn’t tell me.”
“I was terrified.” My claws extended, digging into my palms. “You’d escaped a relationship where someone made promises he didn’t plan to keep. He hurt you. I didn’t want you to think this was the same thing.”
“So you lied.”
“I didn’t lie. I didn’t tell you the whole truth when I probably should’ve.” I forced myself to meet her eyes. “For gargoyles, commitment isn’t gradual. It’s instantaneous. The moment I recognized you as my mate, that was it. Done. Forever.”
“That’s not how humans work.”
“I know.” My wings drooped. “Which is why I didn’t tell you. I wanted to give you time to choose me with your own free will, not because some biological imperative on my part made you feel obligated.”
She stood, pacing to the edge of the cleared garden. Her back stayed to me.
“Was any of it real?” she asked quietly. “Or was it all biology?”
My tail lashed, cracking against the bench.
“Everything was real.” I stood but didn’t move closer.
“The bond told me you were mine. But falling in love with you? That was a choice I made every single day. Watching you grow stronger and seeing you advocate for Corey only made me fall harder. Hearing you laugh. Seeing you realize how strong you truly are. Those things made me love you, not some mystical connection.”
“You love me.”
“Desperately. Completely. In ways I didn’t know I was capable of. There will never be anyone for me but you. Truly.”
She turned, her face streaked with tears. “I’m in love with you, and I don’t even know what that means.”
My wings spread to their full span, joy and agony mixing until I couldn’t separate them. “It means everything. There is no version of my life where I walk away from you.”
I strode closer and dropped to my knees in the dirt, looking up at her. The position left me vulnerable, exposed, but I didn’t care.
“I know I should’ve told you sooner,” I said.
“I know I handled this wrong. But I’m asking you now.
Give me a chance to prove I’ll be here for you and Corey.
That I won’t hurt you. That this isn’t some temporary attraction or biological urge but a choice I make every single day to love you and build a life with you.
I belong to you in ways nothing will ever break. ”
She moved closer, her hands cupping my face. “You’re really asking me to be with you, trust you, while kneeling in dirt.”
“Should I stand?”
“No.” Her fingertips traced my cheekbone. “This is very you, actually.”
Hope sparked in my chest.
“I’m still upset you didn’t tell me,” she said. “We’re going to have to work on communication.”
“I agree.”
“And I’m terrified I’m making another mistake. But I also know that you’ve shown up every single day for me. You’ve been there for Corey when he needed you. You’ve supported me without trying to take over or tell me what I should do. You’ve made me stronger instead of making me feel dependent.”
My tail curled around her ankle, holding on.
“I don’t need you,” she said. “But I want you. That’s the difference. I’m choosing you from a place of strength, not desperation.”
“That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
She leaned down, pressing her forehead against mine. “Then yes. I’ll give us a chance. I’ll move into this house you’ve been refurbishing for us. I’ll let you be part of our lives in all the permanent, terrifying ways that implies.”
I surged upward, pulling her against me, wrapping my wings around her. She laughed, the sound muffled against my chest.
“There’s one more thing,” I said.
“More than fated mates and secret house renovations?”
“Much more.” I pulled back enough to see her face. Then I dropped to one knee again, taking her hand in both of mine. “Be my gargoyle bride. Marry me. Not because biology says we’re mates, but because I love you, and I want to spend every day proving it.”
Her breath caught. “Gavrel.”
“You don’t have to answer now. Take time. Think about it. I needed you to know that I’m all in. Completely. Forever.”
“Yes.”
The word hung in the air between us.
“Yes?” I repeated, blinking fast.
“Yes, I’ll marry you.” She was crying again, but smiling too. “You ridiculous, wonderful gargoyle. Yes.”
I lifted her off her feet, spinning until we were both laughing. My wings spread wide, and my tail made wild loops in the air.
When I finally set her down, we were both breathless.
“We’ll tell Corey,” she said. “And we’ll move in together once the house is ready. And we’ll figure out the rest as we go.”
I kissed her, pouring everything into the contact.
When we finally broke apart, we moved to the porch and stood there, surveying what would soon be our new home.
The future stretched ahead of us, uncertain and terrifying and so full of promise.
“I can’t believe you built me a reading nook,” she said with a big smile. “It’s gorgeous.”
“I can’t believe you said yes.”
“You didn’t give me much choice. Fated mates and all that.”
“You could’ve said no.”
She turned in my arms, her expression serious. “I couldn’t have. Not because of the bond, but because saying no would’ve meant giving up the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
My throat closed up.
“Besides,” she said, her smile returning. “Someone has to make sure you don’t knock over all the furniture with your tail.”
“I’m getting better about that.”
“You pretty much cracked the porch railing at the manor twenty minutes ago.”
“That was me showing emotional distress.”
She laughed, the sound filling the empty spaces in my chest with warmth.
This was home. Not the building behind us or the gardens we’d plant. But this woman in my arms, her son who’d claimed me as family, and the life we’d create together.
And I was theirs, just as completely.