Chapter 10
ANA
The anticipation of joining the gargoyles for the meal made Ana’s tail twitch. However, the thought of sitting close to Quinn caused her heart to race and her words to stumble. Taking a deep breath, she entered the hall with Tilda at her side. Yet the prince didn’t seem to notice his father’s glare. He fixated on her.
After lifting his nostrils into the air as if scanning it for scents, Hamil’s brow furrowed. Then his glower turned from her and settled on Quinn, who now stood next to her.
Quinn placed a hand on her lower back. “My sincere appreciation, Tilda, for taking such loving care of this beautiful female.” He tilted his head at the gnome.
“My pleasure.” Tilda bowed. “If you’ll excuse me.”
“Of course.” Quinn dipped his head close to Ana’s ear and whispered, “And you do look beautiful.” His breath sent a chill down her neck that caused her stomach to flip and her loins to tighten. He kissed her cheek, and her toes curled.
She smiled as he escorted her to her seat.
As they enjoyed their starters, the prince struck up small talk for a bit, then said, “My apologies for not attending to you, but I thought you could use some time to get familiar with the castle on your own.” He placed a square of clear gelatin in his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. “This must be so hard. Are you faring better?”
“For the most part, yes, I guess.” She paused. “Helping out has given me a purpose, and working in the garden is a great place to relax and unwind. Plus, the gnomes are a funny lot… always cracking jokes.” She picked up the cube, sniffed, and ate it. The aroma and flavor were reminiscent of a banana mixed with pineapple.
She grabbed a meat-wrapped cheese bite. “Why do you do chores?”
“I like that you have been watching me.” He grinned devilishly, leaned closer, and placed his tail against hers.
Heat rushed up to her cheeks. “I just happened to look your way.”
Quinn nodded and raised a knowing brow. “Assisting with the castle’s tasks is something I take pleasure in. I find it unacceptable just to watch others work and not assist.” He turned to her and looked into her eyes. “As the prince, I deem it my obligation to serve my kingdom. Not just allow others to serve me.”
A harried soldier burst through the entryway, his feet echoing on the stone floor. King Hamil’s hand flicked, beckoning the man closer. With a hurried bow, the warrior knelt and delivered his hushed message. Hamil’s sigh rippled through the hall before he offered a curt nod. The fighter stood, his movements urgent as he rushed to hold open the heavy doors.
Through them strode a grizzled gargoyle, a mirror image of Hamil down to the portly belly and etched features. His Viking braids added a wildness to his imposing form, as did the glint of swords adorning his soldiers’ belts under the flickering candlelight.
Hamil’s booming words echoed through the room as he rose, his fury palpable. “Gregor!” he thundered.
Gregor cast an eerie shadow across the room. “Brother, forgive my intrusion,” he grunted, his voice laced with forced civility. “I seek a parley. We’re kin. We bleed the same, yet fight like strangers.”
“Spare me your false tears, Gregor. This war began with you,” Hamil spat. The clinking of silverware added a nervous counterpoint to the tense exchange.
“Past grievances.” Gregor’s eyes glinted with defiance. “I accept the blame,” he countered, his eyes darting around the room before landing on Ana. His face contorted. “A female!”
He gestured toward his soldiers and their hands tightened on their swords. The air crackled with tension as Hamil’s guards mirrored the movement.
“So it is true,” Gregor growled. “You hide a female, brother?”
The gargoyles at the tables stood and partially withdrew their blades from their sheaths. The gnomes scattered and disappeared through nearby doorways.
“That information was of no use to you.” Hamil slammed his fist on his table, causing the goblets to shake. “I had no responsibility to divulge it to you.”
Gregor sneered, then moved closer to Ana, his intense gaze unnerving her. He took a deep sniff of the air. He leered at her, then pounded his chest, his voice a guttural growl, “She is mine!”
Ana shrank back, and Quinn clasped her hand.
“She has a mate,” Quinn snarled.
“I smell that none have mated her. That leaves her free for me to claim,” Gregor snapped.
“Be it so, she has a mate and is not available to you,” Hamil growled back.
The room held its breath. The weight of hundreds of eyes fell upon Ana, the suffocating tension threatening to consume her.
“Then I challenge him.” Gregor grasped his sword.
Hamil roared. “I have given until the next moon cycle. After that, you can court her.” As the king snapped his fingers, the sharp sound pierced the silence, summoning the soldiers to attention. The scent of anxiety hung heavy, mingling with the odor of sweat from the warriors lining up in front of Ana.
Quinn growled and swiftly encircled Ana’s waist, drawing her closer. His warm hand caressed her skin. His other hand gripped his blade.
Gregor’s gaze, once possessive, turned predatory. His eyes narrowed with intensity as he shifted his glower to Quinn. Her body trembled.
With a furious gnash of his teeth, Gregor made his declaration. “I shall return.” He stormed out of the room.
In his wake, he delivered a savage blow to one of Hamil’s soldiers, the impact resonating with a resounding thud. The soldier slammed against the wall and fell to the ground. As Gregor exited, he tore the door violently from its hinges, the sound of splintering wood echoing through the room.
Pacing in her dark bedroom and twisting her hands, Ana’s mind refused to unwind enough to allow her to sleep. She couldn’t shake the threatening images of the new gargoyle, Gregor, discovering her sleeping quarters, violating her personal space and her. The mere mental image sent waves of nausea and weakness coursing through her body. In moments like these, she longed for the comforting presence of her cat, Tig.
Yet, then, she recalled how Quinn had held her in his embrace, rubbing a warm, firm hand on her skin. As she closed her eyes, a vivid memory of his touch flooded her mind. She could almost see his blue eyes flare silver. His spicy, vanilla scent enveloped her. Her flesh prickled with anticipation as she relived his caress, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake.
With a shiver running down her spine, she traced her hands over her body, going beyond the same path he stroked. The tingling sensation intensified, igniting a deep ache within her. Her breath hitched as she laid in bed, imagining it was the prince gently placing her down on the soft sheets. The fabric cool against her heated skin.
Her fingertips, delicate and sensual, continued their exploratory journey, gliding over her supple curves. As her mind conjured the image of his lips on hers, her sensitive flesh responded with each brush of her own hands, yearning for his touch, craving his presence.
Her fingers ventured lower, guided by her desires, until they explored her most intimate place. Her hips swayed in harmony with her escalating need, each stroke driving her closer to satiating her yearning. She found solace in the sensation, using the pad of her finger, careful to avoid her claws, indulging in the pleasure.
A soft moan escaped her lips as the rapture within her built until it reached an explosive climax. She threw her head back, biting down on her teeth to stifle her screams of ecstasy. Yet, as the afterglow waned, disappointment washed over her. Despite claiming her peak, it didn’t quell her burning desire to be with Quinn. If anything, it only intensified her longing.
Ana scanned the empty room, loneliness gnawing at her. She needed answers, not memories of Quinn.
With a determined sigh, she walked to the moonlit window. The lingering arousal faded as a new hunger took hold — a yearning for the reason for her bizarre reality.
“Tell me, goddess,” she murmured, “did you bring me here? And for what purpose? Am I trapped in a cosmic game? Is there a path home from this twisted dream?”
Silence. The moon offered no pronouncements, just its indifferent luminescence. Yet Ana refused to despair.
“If you won’t answer me,” she challenged, voice firm, “I’ll continue to find my own way home.” She clenched her fists. “And I have faith that I’ll change back to human when I do.”
A moonbeam, cool and ghostly on her face, lulled Ana into slumber. The room dissolved, replaced by a vast, echoing room reeking of primal fear, mingled with the scent of freshly cooked food that still lingered in the dining hall. Her eyelids fluttered as the dream intensified, immersing her in a vivid, lifelike world.
The ground quaked from the approaching juguais as if the earth was about to split open. The tremors foretold of death and mayhem. Recognizing the sounds from an earlier time, a chill raced down her back.
She clutched her hands, now alabaster, not her usual olive skin tone. Deafening screams of frightened female gargoyles and their children pierced the chaotic atmosphere, amplifying the sense of impending doom.
Desperation hung in the air as everyone scrambled to find a hiding place, searching for any semblance of safety. Terrified, they huddled together under tables and chairs in the vast dining hall, their only meager refuge. The once lively room had now transformed into a suffocating prison, trapping them in a terrifying moment they never saw coming.
“Hush, now,” she yelled. Ana’s voice, unfamiliar yet somehow innately hers, rang out, cutting like a sharp blade. “We shall fight.” The words tasted strange on her tongue, yet a flicker of defiance ignited within her. A shard of realization pierced her mind. She wasn’t Ana. She was Skadi, queen of the gargoyles.
Mothers shushed their children, fear etched on their faces. A solemn stillness fell, but the silence only magnified the juguais’ footsteps. Each thud chilled Skadi to the marrow.
With a searing pain clutching her heart, Skadi tightly shut her eyes. The claustrophobic confines of the room squeezed in on her, the air itself heavy and stifling. Yet, she opened them after a deep breath, determined to face the horror.
She had seen this before. The juguais, monstrous and hungry, would attack soon. Horrific memories blinded her. The sounds grew louder, matching the memory. The savage beasts roared. Skadi recalled this scene all too vividly, the juguais hunting, slaughtering, and devouring her kin with a voracious appetite.
Amidst the chaos, a guard’s urgent tone pierced through her recollection. “My Queen!” he yelled, his words desperate and pregnant with urgency, demanding her immediate attention.
She turned toward the voice. A guard swooped in through the only door to the dining chamber, the massive wooden door creaking on its hinges. His bare chest glistened with sweat, and his leather pants fluttered from his rapid descent. “I humbly… apologize. I couldn’t… give you more warning,” he gasped out, his breath heavy and labored. He landed and dropped to his knees before her, his hand resting on his sword hilt, with his grayish wings folding in around him. Raising his head, he met her steadfast gaze, his blue eyes cloudy and moist. “Forgive me… there is no escape. The juguais… moved much too quickly. They now surround us.”
Softening her eyes, she gently cupped his chin with her clawed hand and nodded. His stubble rough prickled her palm. “You did your best.”
Mothers with their children swarmed to flee through the open door, but nets stopped them. Screams filled the air. In a frantic scramble, the remaining mass crowded back into the hall, taking cover wherever they could. A soldier ran and slammed the door shut. He dropped the wooden barricade. Moments after, the entrance shook and rumbled from something solid being battered into it.
Now terrifyingly upon them, the beasts’ roars froze Skadi’s core. The thunderous sound quaked her to her bones. A second bang followed by another, causing the cacophony of wails and cries to grow louder. The stone structure had withstood many a skirmish with the centaurs, yet the walls would not withstand the juguais’ massive blows for long.
The entire building trembled, and Skadi lifted her sword, feeling the heft of it in her hands. Her grip tightened. Inside, her body quivered with horror. Still, she forced a stoic fa?ade and held her chin high … a pretense of strength for her subjects.
She cursed the fates that her husband, the king, her son, and their warriors were off fighting centaurs over a border dispute. She’d only been left with a small party of soldiers to protect the women and children of Leonad. And if they failed … the juguai’s favorite victuals would be served.
She looked at her guards, their faces etched with a mix of resolve and fear. “Unto our death.” They raised their swords with one hand, with their other clenched, they pounded their chests and shouted a war-cry. Behind her, the helpless and innocent huddled and consoled one another, their trembling bodies pressed together.
The hall insistently shuddered from the forceful battering against the walls. Chunks of mortar and rocks rained down, creating a cloud of dust, making it difficult to breathe. She gasped at the sight of the fortification collapsing, the crumbling debris becoming projectiles. With her tail, she yanked a boy out of the way of a chunk of wall. His mother pulled him into her arms.
Coughs coalesced with piercing wails and desperate screams as the once formidable building crumbled in on itself with a deafening crash. The first juguais, their grimy hair draping their pale green, bulbous faces, breached the stronghold. Strings of drool drooped from their gaping maws, lined with yellow, pointed, razor-sharp teeth. Their dark, soulless eyes locked onto the small group, their grins spreading malevolently. Their towering bodies reeked of rotting flesh infiltrated the room.
“You shall have to fight for this meal,” Skadi’s voice rang out, filled with determination, as she raised her gleaming blade and unfurled her wings. Her few remaining warriors pounded their chests, their fierce resolve palpable. Bitterness mingled with fear in her mouth as she prepared for the onslaught.
The juguais laughed, the sound garbled and boisterous, as others of their kind joined them. The roof above them groaned and caved, forcing Skadi to dodge the falling debris. Thickening, the dust cloud shrouded the moonless night. With a glance at the children and females, Skadi commanded, “Fly now. Use the cover of the dust. We shall hold them back.” She then addressed her guards, her tone commanding, “Arrows, NOW.”
A flurry of barbs flew as the gargoyles launched one after another. Yet, the juguais remained undeterred, their thick skin barely affected by the small shafts that pierced them like quills. With a swift motion, the beasts unleashed a massive net, ensnaring anyone who dared to escape. Their hope for survival was shattered.
Summoning every ounce of courage, Skadi charged forward, her sword raised high. A visceral roar escaped her lips. With a deft spin, she twirled her blade, cleaving the ankle of one of the monsters with a powerful force, narrowly evading a club aimed at her head. Another juguai struck at her with a backhand, sending her flipping backward. She tucked her wings tightly against her body. She fought with ferocity, her sword a blur as she desperately tried to keep the juguais at bay.
Her fighters dodged and weaved as massive limbs swung, their vicious fists threatening to strike. They battled gallantly, their unwavering resolve shining through. Yet, for every beast felled, another swiftly took its place. Though her gargoyles possessed agility and speed, the confined space restricted their flight. The juguais, outweighing and outnumbering them, proved to be an overwhelming force. One by one, Skadi’s warriors succumbed to death, their lifeless bodies collapsing onto the blood-soaked floor.
Her gaze focused on her target despite the sound of another wall crashing down behind them. “Defend the rear,” she shouted to a nearby soldier. The ground became slick with crimson liquid as more fighters crumbled, their agonized screams piercing her heart. Nevertheless, she fought on, her determination fueling her every move. With grace, she evaded strikes, her focus unwavering. With each passing moment, her energy waned, compelling her to execute every movement with careful calculation.
Though not trained as a fighter, she had practiced in secret, mimicking the precise movements of the battle-hardened soldiers. Now, despite her weariness, the drive to keep her subjects alive maintained her agility. The juguais, towering and formidable, possessed immense power, but they were often dull and predictable… mostly.
Suddenly, a faint rustling caught her acute senses. Without hesitation, she instinctively folded over and fell to her knees, just avoiding a body hurtling toward her head from behind. The juguai had tossed a fellow warrior at her. It tumbled across her back, landing in a chaotic heap. Rising swiftly, she continued to fight through the strain and exhaustion that threatened to hinder her movements.
A blunt strike brushed her arm, causing her to flinch. Then, a foot rammed against her side, forcing the air from her lungs. Her bones crunched with a sickening sound, and she slammed into a wall, sliding to the unforgiving floor, her hopes for survival now shattered.
Agonizing shards of pain splintered through her entire body as she gasped desperately for breath. Mercifully, the world around her blurred. Her consciousness slipped away, but not before she caught sight of juguais and smaller, terrifying shadows converging to collect the survivors.
As her weary eyes closed forever, a single tear escaped and rolled down her cheek.
Skadi had failed.