Chapter 3
Three
Burchard’s POV
The weeks flew by, and mercifully, each night lasted a little longer as the daylight faded earlier and earlier the further into autumn we went.
It was the best part about the seasons changing.
I was still sneaking into her room every night, hiding from her, spending my time awake watching her, cataloging every detail of her face, her hands, the way she slept so soundly, the ways her snores sounded like a lullaby I’d hear when the sun rose.
I hid high in the rafters, like a perverted stalker, my eyes fixated on her every movement as she performed her nightly routine, studied, or pleasured herself.
Those were my favorite times.
When her hand would dip under the covers, eventually throwing them off of her completely, unwittingly bearing herself to me.
As her moans and mewls grew louder throughout each night until she reached the crescendo.
I pleasured myself, hidden in the darkness, edging myself while she was awake.
Only holding back my climax until she was asleep, twisted up, laying naked in her sheets.
I would let it drip all over her and her sheets.
Once I had finished, I would listen to the others report to me what happened around the castle, but mainly what had happened to her throughout the day.
It was difficult because I couldn’t be there to protect her during those days.
Daylight had never been more my enemy than it was now that I was falling for this woman.
I was so pathetic and desperate for more of her that I had to settle for infiltrating her dreams. That was the only way I could think to semi-kind-of communicate with her.
I was doing my best to completely surround her.
I wanted to be on her mind every minute of the day, even when she slept.
She was going to be mine, one way or another. I had already decided I could claim her for as long as she would have me.
In her dreams tonight, she had wanted to talk, to tell me all the things she never said out loud in our real life interactions.
Though, to be fair, those were just her talking to a statue I didn’t think she fully knew was alive, and those conversations were not about anything specific, just whatever came to her mind.
Some days she’d tell me about her dreams and goals, other days were about her mother, who she was, and how much she missed her.
In most of her dreams, though, we didn’t talk until after I had thoroughly teased and pleasured her, and those talks were just about what she wanted to try the next time she dreamed of me.
I looked forward to the nights more and more, as my favorite part was when I got to watch her come undone beneath me, on my fingers, on my mouth, when she pulled my face flush with her dripping center, my tongue buried inside of her.
When she smiled at me tonight, it was different from how she looked at me every other night when she was hungry for me like I was hungry for her.
I watched as she brushed her hair behind her ear, smiling at me, looking at me with those stunning blue pools, asking questions I wanted to answer right away.
But even in this dreamland, when I opened my mouth to answer her, no sound came out.
It seemed the same rules applied here, in her dreams, as they did in the real world.
I hated that I couldn’t communicate with her verbally.
If it wasn’t a full moon yet, I couldn’t talk to anyone other than the other gargoyles, and they just gave reports of what they saw, or play what they witnessed through our telepathic connection.
“I know we’ve been seeing each other in my dreams a lot, but I was wondering if you had a name?” I was determined to be more than just a listening ear for her.
“I guess I could always give you a name if you don’t have one, seeing as it’s my dream. What about Stony?”
I stepped up to her, taking her hand in mine.
It was so much smaller than my massive marble one, so tiny, so warm and perfect.
I gently dragged my claw across the palm of her hand, spelling out my name.
I liked that she thought of a nickname for me, but I wanted to hear my name on her voice. To hear how it sounded.
B-U-R-C-H-A-R-D
“Burchard? That’s your name?” Her voice, soft and curious, filled me with a different, gentle kind of fluttering that I had never felt before. Something that filled me with a light feeling I had never experienced. It was odd, but welcome.
I gave her a small, slightly toothy, smile, loving the way she said my name.
I nodded as she looked up at me, her wings out and shining in the moonlight.
Annette had said she only let them out in her dreams, and with those she felt comfortable with.
They sparkled like millions of black diamonds that had been crushed and used to make each wing sparkle, sewn together with the finest silk, making them look so delicate.
I wanted to touch them, but those were sacred, not to be touched and saved for their mate.
From everything I read they were basically an automatic orgasm if someone played with them, touched them, stroked them.
Annette stood before me, looking every bit the fairy princess she was, minus the crown, but was still everything I’d ever thought of or imagined when I pictured what a fairy would look like.
As I looked at her, I tried to picture if there could be more…
quickly shaking my head, I couldn’t do that to her.
Chain her down to someone hunk of stone she would only get to be with half the time.
Literally.
Meeting her father when he took over for his human mate as interim head of The Society when she passed, he was…different. You could tell he was Fae, it was obvious in his physical looks, but he was also, part, something else. Something dark covered his spirit.
The whispers of parents and those who passed through these halls throughout the years that I had been here told me it was a bloody battle when he took over the throne thirty years ago.
It was whispered that his mother was a consort and not the legitimate Queen, even though she was his father’s fated mate.
It was a horrible tale of what happened all too often with arranged marriages and power plays.
The fated mate eventually came along and there was no way to deny the pull of the bond, the want and need to be with one’s mate.
From everything I’d read, it was undeniable, impossible to sever, unless both parties accepted the rejections.
Children and others were most often times hurt in the process. It was unnatural, something that shouldn’t occur. It wasn’t the goddess’ will. She created mates for a reason, and even I, a lump of chiseled marble, could comprehend her reasonings.
There were a few different species that seemed to be scouting, looking for him, His Majesty Eldon of the Fae and her, my angel, that first day of school.
You could see the hunger in their eyes. His Majesty, along with his sons, looked nearly identical in height, eye color, and stature.
Their jet black hair I assume they got from his mate.
But her eyes looked like specks of starlight as she looked at me, wide-eyed, full of wonder and curiosity.
“You can’t talk?” I shook my head negatively as she began to tap her long, slender index finger on her chin, her face scrunched like she was deep in contemplation. “Is there any time you can talk?”
I nodded and after a brief moment of elation, it looked like the knowledge I could speak had sent her deeper into contemplation. She paced back and forth a few moments before stopping. She walked over, picking up a pen and notepad off the desk.
“I’ll ask a question, and you can answer using these. If you have a question, you can write it down. Though, maybe that’s silly. It’s just a dream, right?”
I started scrawling an answer, letting her know…it was only kind of a dream.
“In a sense? What does that mean?”
I started writing again, happy to be communicating with her, hoping she could feel the deeper connection, like I could.
“My Master made me with magic. I can use magic and talk on nights of the full moon.” She paused, and then a smile broke out across her face! It was as if her whole face was smiling, her eyes twinkling with excitement.
“That’s amazing!” But then she went back to looking confused, “What did you mean by ‘In a sense’ when I asked if this was a dream?”
This felt redundant, writing everything down, and I had never wished I could talk more in my life than I did right at this moment.
“I can use magic to project into your dreams, but this is real life for me. Everything that we’ve done has happened in real life.”
She stared at the words as she said them, the realization dawning on her like the next day’s sunrise.
I stared at her as she froze like I was forced to, every morning.
I could only hope it was a good thing she was quiet for so long.
I was hoping she wasn’t about to banish me from her presence.
I could feel the sadness creeping in, trying to make myself smaller, and I knew there was no way. It wasn’t possible.
I simply wouldn’t be able to survive the next millennium without her.
I knew the knowledge of the things happening in her dreams being reality, that they had in fact happened to her, between us, in the real world was going to be a lot to take in.
A lot to take in and process. I was worried I had overstepped, that I should have told her before anything happened.
I was prepared to give her space if that’s what she needed.
But she wouldn’t be rid of me forever. I would come for her.
She would be mine.
That was one of the main reasons I hadn’t gone too far in the dreams. I needed to tell her what had already happened, happened in real life, and because I had to be sure she wanted this, wanted me, before I took her completely.
I could feel myself spacing out, struggling to keep my stone face, stony, neutral.
I was bracing myself for her rejections when her delicate hand touched my face, pulling me out of my distracted state where I was fighting off the sight of her running away in disgust.
She smiled at me, leaning up and kissing me.
“Take me,” she whispered against my lips, right before she pressed her warm lips against mine.
I wasted no time snapping out of my shock.
I kissed her back, ravaging her. I worshiped every inch of her body, pleasuring every spot of tender flesh where I noted she seemed to melt as I paid special attention to her in every dream we were in together before this moment.
In her dream, as her arms wrapped around my neck, I felt it happen in real life. I pulled back slightly, her sleep and lust-filled blue pools looked up at me.
“Take me, Burchard.”
I lost whatever tiny grip of control I tried to stay tethered to, like the animal I was.