Qanek
The curses I spewed internally at myself could not cease.
Fool.
Stupid, ridiculous, utter fool.
My rampage became a wildfire inside me without an outlet. I needed to release it. I needed to tear through the world, to roar, to rage, to destroy. To lose myself in the darkness that always consumed me.
Oftentimes, it was difficult to claw myself from the depths.
Even more often, I could not even feel myself falling into that pit.
One second, it rose and in the next, I blinked and I was whole again.
Covered in blood and carnage, a feeling of despair festering inside my chest, and I never even knew why.
This time had been different.
I’d heard her voice, like a flame within the darkness, guiding me out with patience and care, the likes of which I had never received before in my life and could not begin to understand.
Not understanding made me angry enough to lash out, even as she only wanted to aid me. I could not allow myself to fall for her charms.
My shoulders bunched, every muscle tensing as the emotions closed tightly inside.
How could I be so careless so as to not pay attention to the things and creatures that surrounded me? I silently berated myself.
I was not in the human world. I was in the Underworld, and here lived an abundance of anomalies that would have loved nothing more than to rip apart the third general of the Underworld in retaliation for all I had done to their kind.
I was paying the price of my own stupidity, the pain tearing through my back with an ache that I wished to ignore but could not.
The demon had caught me completely by surprise, creating wounds that, once again, ruined my carefully curated plans.
I wanted to leave this place as quickly as I could. To replenish my magic, open a portal, and find my wife. It was awful enough to have stolen the wrong human. Now, I was injured and recovery would take even longer.
We were on our way to my den, a place I had vowed this human would never set foot in, for it was one step closer to completing a mating ceremony that neither of us wanted. However, our options were limited.
We were too out in the open, and with my injuries I could not protect myself, let alone her. If I wanted to get out of here, I needed to heal first.
The healing waters of Lord Lorenzo whispered across the back of my neck as if beckoning me, but I knew I could not venture there. Stepping so close would ensure my capture by my three kings, and I had not yet claimed my wife.
No, the only other option was venturing to my den and healing myself.
All would be well, I attempted to reassure myself. So long as the human did not slip into my nest or complete any more rituals that would further bind us together.
Being binded to her would be a terrible thing indeed.
It was her fault I had been attacked, after all. Her incessant talking and screeching had lured creatures to us. It had grated down my nerves enough so that I was distracted.
Even now, she could not cease her yapping.
She held tightly to my arm, which she had comfortably rested just over her delicate human shoulder. She was far too comfortable touching me, running her palm across my back as though she meant to offer me comfort.
A greater comfort would be silence.
Alas…
“...I didn’t even know there was another dimension like this one, much less those types of creatures.
And I thought vampires could be scary in my world.
That’s nothing compared to that worm thing.
Did you see the way it was shaped? It looked straight out of a nineties movie, you know?
The one with Kevin Bacon? Where there’s killer worms in the desert?
I forgot what it was called. But I swear, my life flashed before my eyes.
I can’t imagine what you felt like when it grabbed you.
Or do you think it’s more similar to the movie Anaconda, the one with Ice-T and JLo?
That movie is legendary. But I live in the city, far away from nature because who the hell wants to wake up and see a beast hovering over you in the middle of the night ready to eat you?
Is that what it’s like living here? Do you just have to fight for your life every second of every day?
I mean, I guess you could say humans are also always fighting for their lives.
The human world can be unsafe, too. Especially if you’re a woman.
Do you have female gargoyles? I’ve never seen a gargoyle before.
Are you all strictly living in the Underworld or do you come from all over?
I’m from Mexico and my people are all over the world.
I mean, I guess I shouldn’t say that there’s no female gargoyles?
Just because I haven’t seen more of your people doesn’t mean they aren’t there.
There’s a lot of things out in this world I haven’t seen.
I read an article about a reporter who was kidnapped by a toxic siren.
She lived in a watery waste and snatched the reporter up and they were never heard from again.
Do you have sirens here? I’m trying to picture a demonic siren and my mind is completely–”
“Cease your infernal racket!” I roared, startling the human.
She jolted, her body moving my arm and shaking the wounds at my back and causing me to groan.
I glared at her. “You speak far too much for someone so small. Shut that thing you call a mouth. It is because of your loudness that we are in this predicament in the first place.”
Her mouth dropped open in shock before she sputtered. “My fault?” she screeched.
The sound made my neck twitch.
“Yes,” I hissed, baring my fangs in her direction. “If you had not been screaming, you would not have lured those creatures to us. I would not have been attacked, and we would be one step closer to depositing you back in your own world, and my true wife would be in my arms.”
“That’s so messed up,” she argued. “I’m not the one out here kidnapping humans. You’re doing that. So if it’s anyone's fault, it’s yours!”
I growled, wishing I could unleash my anger somehow, but being with her kept that particular beast inside me at bay. I could not explain it. Perhaps even it wanted nothing to do with the endless noise she created.
In my rage, I was blinded more often than not. In my rage, I trampled and fought. I had won many battles for my kings due to my brutality amongst their ranks. Demons found themselves torn apart when they were met with my claws.
This human was not a demon, so I could not skewer her with a horn. I did not want to harm her, but she made hating her far too easy a task.
“No,” I growled out. “The fault is yours. If you had not gotten in the way of the woman I truly wanted, neither of us would be in this situation.”
She huffed, the sound a very human one of annoyance, and a moment later, dropped my arm from around her shoulders. “Fine!” she yelled.
I wobbled slightly to the side, my fist hitting the ground.
“You can walk by your own damn self.” She huffed, storming slightly ahead of me with her arms crossed.
As if I ever needed her help in the first place. She was more a nuisance than anything else. The fact she thought otherwise was laughable. She was so tiny, so small, that she could never carry my weight successfully.
It was another reason she and I were ill suited.
If I were to take her as a mate, my cock would surely split her in half. Surely…
I stared at her retreating backside, images entering my mind unbidden. Of her body writhing, of what she would look like if I entered her–
I gritted my teeth and caught up easily to the sulking human, halting all intimate thoughts before they could take bloom.
Thankfully, we spent the rest of the walk to my den in silence, much as I preferred.
I could listen for threats without her voice clawing irritation down my spine.
As it was, her huffs as she fought to keep up were irritating enough.
By the time we neared my den, she stank of sweat and exertion, and her breathing had grown far too labored.
Finally, she broke the silence.
“Please tell me we’re here.”
“Yes. This is my den.”
It was within a cave. Though the outside appeared small, the inside had been carved out and went deep underground to accommodate my size and an entire living space.
It had taken much time to create a space that would be worthy of my wife. Now that we were in front of it, I hesitated to go inside, turning my attention to the little human who stared at the mouth of my home hopefully.
This felt wrong, to have her here when it should have been another. However, there was no choice. It was either enter my den or allow the demons to follow the scent of my blood and end us both.
Inside, there was a protective barrier that would not allow anyone entry, save for those I wished. Inside, we would be safe. Inside, I would be one step closer to healing in order to go find my true wife.
“Come, feral creature.” I beckoned with my fingers. “Let us bask in shelter.” I stepped through the dark entry and the human followed after me.
The inside of my den was heavily illuminated by the demon glow worms that lived across the cavernous space. It revealed what I had worked so hard to accomplish; a home meant for a wife.
A strange sensation I could not place traveled up the length of my back as the feral little human slowly walked into my den and stood before me, taking it in.
All my life I had been the predator sent to end lives and destroy. Why did I feel like prey before her? She took in my den with narrowed eyes, her hands on her hips. It made my shoulders shoot to my ears and my teeth gnashed together.
My space felt open to scrutiny. I should not care. This would not be her home. This would be Carlota’s. And having another woman stand where my wife should be was unsettling.
I marched past her, unable to look at her expressions any longer. Instead, I went to the wooden chest I kept near the small pool of steaming self-cleaning waters that rested below the worms.
I was no stranger to pain; to blood, gore, and fights.
Of us all–Nazar, Xavir, and I–I was the one who bore the most scars.
I was the one they sent ahead in battle to bear the brunt of the violence.
I was the one who pillaged and destroyed, because in my rage I did not feel beyond it.
I did not feel the pain as keenly as they did.
But I did know what it felt like after the battle was won.
It was why I looked like this, and it was why I held a chest of salves and bandages that would bind my wounds.
There were the broken pieces of a mirror hanging against the wall. I sat in front of it, my tail dangling into the warm waters at my side. I twisted my torso, pulling my wings away to give me a better vantage point to see the wrangled mess I had become.
I gave a hiss at the sight.
I was a fast healer, but my wings were a far more delicate area. The wounds the demon inflicted would create holes in the thin membrane, and I loathed the beast for creating more imperfections against my body.
Grumbling, I dipped a cloth into the water, wrung it out, and twisted in the mirror, reaching my arm toward my back to wipe the remnants of blood from my skin.
I grumbled when I could not reach.
Somewhere behind me, I was aware of the human inching closer, her sigh loud and echoing.
“Let me help.”
I flinched when her finger grazed the hard cartilage of the top of my wing, curling over myself like her touch was composed of fire.
She did not seem to care about my reaction, or perhaps she did not notice, but she pulled the cloth from my claws and I released it without much of a fight.
“You can barely reach.” She made a clicking noise with her tongue. “I can do it much faster.”
I huffed. If she wished, I would not argue. Not when she was correct.
However, I did not calculate how unwise having her hands against my back truly was until she sat behind me and the cloth swiped against my skin.
The sting made my body tense, and yet… A soft human palm laid bare against my lower back. Gentle. Warm. Comforting. Things I was greatly unfamiliar with and found myself leaning into, craving more of.
The cloth swiped against me, over and over. It was a lulling sensation that put me into a false state of peace, yet I succumbed. It was methodic. She swiped, then dipped the cloth into water, and swiped again.
“I’m almost done,” she reassured. “Does it hurt?”
I gruffed but gave her no response. It would not do to give her more of my weaknesses to turn against me.
She scoffed. “You don’t have to pretend to be strong, you know.”
A sound rumbled in my chest.
“Yeah, yeah, I get it. You’re a big, bad gargoyle. But these wounds are…”
“Your fault,” I completed.
She huffed. “Whatever. I’m trying to be nice here and you’re making it very difficult.”
“I do not need niceties,” I said, hunching my back further. “I would prefer the silence.”
“Yeah, so you’ve said. But you can’t keep me quiet forever. I can talk if I want.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
I huffed again, waiting impatiently for her to finish.
Her soft hands were at a strange contrast with the husky timber of her voice, so at odds with her feral demeanor. A small breath left my lips as those hands slid up my spine in a slow, explorative manner.
I leaned forward, but her hands followed, grazing over the harder parts of my wing and then moving towards the thinner membrane.
I swallowed, my body suddenly tight, suddenly hot. Something inside me was set ablaze at the touch, and yet I could not find the strength to lean away from it.
It was not a disloyal thing, was it? To be healed by another woman that was not my wife?
So long as I reciprocated no touches. So long as she healed me and nothing else. Boundaries would not be crossed, and I would still be true to my real wife.
She was merely helping, for the wounds were in a place I could not reach.
Even as those words were echoing through the chambers of my own mind, I was entranced with her low rasp, the words and their meaning lost as the delicate touch drifted and mended.
My body reacted to that softness as if she had reached around me and gripped my cock at the base.
It stood, high and weeping, wanting.
A grumble tore through my throat. I attempted to will the member down, but her enchantment held me in a vice.
My body was betraying me, and I forced the reminder in my head.
She is not my wife, I repeated. It is merely a reaction of the body, nothing more. It will be fine, it should be fine, so long as nothing happens. Nothing will happen, because this feral creature was not the one I wanted.
She is not my wife.