Chapter Twenty-Nine
Archibald
My bonded are feeding our bride at the table as I retreat to the skies. I need the open air to think clearly.
I almost made a grave mistake last night. An indescribably huge mistake that would have eaten me alive if I had done it. It doesn’t matter if it was alpha hormones; it is my job as an alpha, a leader, to control myself. And I would have failed.
Thankfully, Ben and Theo saved me from the worst of it. My bonded. The alphas I’ve attached my life to. My lovers and best friends.
But I’m afraid even the threat that I waved in front of Fern, after she’d been terrorized by that uncertified—and illegally settled—chime, was enough to ruin any feelings my bride might have grown for me.
I stretch my wings and glide, my mind racing faster than the air whizzing by me.
She ran from us, though we’ve not harmed her. The thoughts that dance through my mind are wholly separate from each other, and yet each true in and of themselves.
She would have rather been raped by those monsters than pleasured by us.
She obviously has some defensive skills and watching her destroy that gargoyle’s wing had made me proud as fuck.
She will never settle as a center. She hates us. Our kind.
I shift my weight, causing me to circle left on the air current.
We’ve done nothing terrible to her. Nothing out of the ordinary. I sigh. But perhaps she is out of the ordinary.
Maybe Theo is right and we need to...
My thought trails off as I see five gargoyles in fatigues flying towards our home. I arc back quickly, dropping low to catch a current and beat my wings as quickly as I can without seeming frantic to get to the house.
I land on the balcony, hissing “Get her on your cock now! And grab a blanket for her!”
My center will not be seen fully nude by anyone but my chime.
But more than that, I need her busy, languid, pleased.
My bonded don’t question me: Ben runs for my room and Theo pulls Fern close, standing and holding her to his chest, following Ben. Her big golden eyes flick to me, meeting mine for a second, and away.
I turn to the balcony just as I hear my bedroom door close. A moment later, the officials from the National Squadron land.
“Earl Archibald, we’re sorry to arrive unannounced. We came in a hurry, having heard some disconcerting news.”
“Of course, Admiral,” I respond evenly, having taken in his rank from his uniform. I don’t know him by sight. “What can I help you with? Would you like tea?” I ask easily as I stride to the kitchen.
“No, sir. We’re here to check on your bride. The one you claimed at the ceremony four nights ago. We got a report,” he says cryptically.
I look at him hard and he has the sense to look abashed. I wait a beat longer than is polite, glaring.
“My bride is busy with my bonded, Admiral.”
“My apologies, Earl Archibald, but we must really see her for ourselves.” He shifts back and forth.
I frown and pace to my room, “Cover our bride, I do not want other males seeing her nude,” I call through the door. The Admiral and two of his alphas are directly behind me.
A beat and Theo hollers, “Enter.”
I swing the door open and Fern is laying in bed, her head on Theo’s chest, his arm around her, tucking her to his side.
Her lustrous hair is swept across the pillow and on the other side of Theo is a very nude Ben, who Fern is reaching for.
The sheets have been tossed up, covering most of Fern.
They all stop and look at the officials.
“As you can see, Admiral, my bride is in fine condition and quite busy here.” My words are clipped.
Nothing like a rich bureaucrat to be annoyed with general good-practice procedures, so I best play it up.
The gargoyle nods, looking more and more abashed. “Of course, of course, Earl. Just a few questions.”
I grumble an answer and the Admiral looks to Fern and clears his throat. “Bride, have you left the house of your chime?”
She looks her big liquid gold eyes at him and blinks calmly. “No, sir.”
Wily little creature. Bold as brass, lying to his face with not a single damn tell.
Shit, this is probably not a good thing for us being able to tell if she’s giving us the truth.
“And you’ve not seen another gargoyle since you were brought here?”
I cross my arms over my chest and look annoyed.
“No, sir.” She answers again, looking right into his eyes.
“And you are well? Settling in?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Very good, very good,” he mumbles.
I usher him out, to his many heartfelt apologies. I nod, annoyed and letting it show, mentioning speaking with the Senate regarding this visit predicated on not more than rumors. I stand on the balcony and watch them fly off before returning to my bedroom.
Ben and Theo are gingerly petting our bride, but she again has that distant look upon her face.
I sit on the end of the bed. “Little one, we need to talk.”
She limply meets my eyes. “Yes, Sir.”
A pang hits my chest. Where is my little firebrand?
“While you do need consequences for running off, I think it best if we table that for the moment. I have many questions for you.” I look at Ben and Theo, “I think we all do.”
She rolls onto her belly, hiding her face, as I hear her answer, muffled by the pillow, “If you wish it, sir.”
I frown. I need my bondeds’ opinions. “Stay, little one. Sleep or rest. We’ll be right outside the—open—door.”
I stand and Ben and Theo follow me out. We stand on the far side of the hallway.
“What is wrong with her?” I ask quietly.
Theo snorts. “Seriously, Arch?” He raises his eyebrows.
My eyes flick between them. “Yes?”
“Stones dammit, I never realized how emotionally stupid you are. You’re worse than Ben.”
“Hey,” protests Ben softly, frowning.
I cross my arms over my chest.
Theo continues, unperturbed, “She just chanced her life to run from us. She had to kill two young, strong gargoyles who threatened her body. She ran and hid her tracks. She got captured by three errant alphas. We saw her destroy the wing of the one who was about to rape her. Shit, she might have killed him, if we hadn’t been there.
Been there to drag her back here. She wasn’t headed for her home, she was just running.
Just trying to get the fuck away from us.
” Theo is practically panting, his chest heaving, and his face darkened with emotion.
I blink, rolling that around.
Ben makes a noise. “She hates us, doesn’t she?”
He sounds hurt, dejected.
I feel the same, honestly. But something reminds me.
“Ben, what is it, from Project Selene, that you’re not telling us?”
He looks shocked, this sudden turn in conversation, and I see the end of his tail curl up. That’s a nervous tell of his. He leans to check on Fern before turning back to us.
Theo adds, “Yeah, I could tell too. What is it, Ben? We won’t chatter; we won’t fuck up your data.”
Ben’s eyes flick anywhere but the two of us. I purr, tugging him into me, my hands rubbing his lower back.
“Bonded. Ebenezer. This is important to our chime. To the possible mother of our winglings. Will you not tell us?”
At that, his body relaxes and he puts his head upon my shoulder. I kiss his neck tenderly as he gives me a tight hug. He releases me and steps back slowly, taking a deep breath.
“Of course, this is all under the strictest confid–” Ben starts but cuts off at the glare from Theo.
He continues, “Our research has uncovered several important findings. Human women react to our seed so strongly because...” he pauses, as if steeling himself, “most of the human women left are omegas. Omegas that are genetically, reproductively compatible with us.”
He nods at our surprised looks. “It gets worse. Human men are declining at the same rate as our omegas. It’s linked, somehow.
” He pauses again, frowning. “This next part is all speculation, but as you know, there are some scant rumors that humans and gargoyles were originally descended from the same ancestral species. We think that somehow our—previously unknown—interbreeding contaminated the lines.”
“What?” Theo asks, incredulous.
“That by having winglings with humans, our omega genes transferred to the offspring: ‘human’ woman, solely. And that because those new omegas would not go into heat for human men, essentially betas, they genetically self-selected human men to go extinct, via reduced pregnancy rates. And less and less gargoyles were born as omegas, instead environmentally pressured to be alphas or betas, both dominant traits to the omega recessive gene.”
He silently takes in our shocked faces.
“Fuck.”
“Fuck is right,” Theo agrees, turning and leaning to check on Fern.