Krikus’s words might say consider, but Terak knew. He had lost his Clan this night. They would not follow Nalith or Valry, but damage had been done and they would follow him no longer. He was strong enough he could hold on through sheer force, but no, that was not the leader he wished to be. If the Clan no longer wished to follow him, he would honor that wish.
Surprising, he thought it would hurt more. But Larissa’s face blazed bright in dark places, and this decision was the easiest he had ever made. Terak nodded at Krikus and watched the older gargoyle depart, leaving him alone except for Malek. There was nothing more for him here, and he spread his wings for flight.
“Mennak.” Malek stopped him. The younger gargoyle looked vulnerable at that moment, a rare expression from Terak’s second-in-command.
Terak gripped Malek’s shoulder hard. “Calm, Malek. We both know how this will play out. You are ready for this role. I would not have selected you otherwise.”
“I am not capable of being half the leader you have been, Terak.”
“No, you will be greater. I will always be there if you have need of me. Be a good leader for our people. Guide them well. I am sorry I am leaving you with such a heavy burden, but none I have more faith in than you.” With a final squeeze, Terak opened his wings to their full span and he took flight.
Malek’s voice followed him. “Is she worth the loss of the Clan?”
She is worth everything.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
‡
She was sleeping, his little human, her eyelashes soft shades under closed eyelids. Her lips made a little pout as she slept, as if she was waiting for a kiss. That was one request he would always grant.
He ghosted his lips over hers, bit by bit applying more pressure with each pass, until she woke. Those eyes opened, the room too dark to see their full color, but after the focused on him they relaxed, losing the lines of confusion and settling into happiness. “I’m sorry I fell asleep. It’s been a long day.”
He pushed her hair back from her cheek, the petal-soft skin sensitizing the nerve endings in his fingers. “Yes, it has. I wish I had the willpower to let you sleep as you need, but I could not wait that long to hear your voice again.”
“You need to be careful saying things like that. A girl could get used to them.”
“I am afraid I am unable to speak anything but the truth. I hope you can forgive me my bluntness.”
She pushed herself up with one hand while her other hand stroked over the contours of his human face. “I guess I’ll have to learn to manage.”
He gathered her into his arms and laid her head against his chest. “You are very good to me, thank you.”
For several minutes she stayed still in his arms, resting against him and occasionally rubbing her cheek against the spot over his heart.
She broke the silence. “Your heartbeat is different than a human’s.”
“Gargoyles have two hearts. No matter my outside appearance, I am not human.”
She pushed back against his arms, giving herself enough space that she could look up into his face and meet his eyes. “Even looking at you now, seeing you in your shifted form, I’m very aware you are not human. I am here with a gargoyle, and I would have it no other way.”
A weight he had not been aware of broke free inside him at her words. He swallowed hard to tamp down the shout of joy that threatened to escape. “In our creation myths, it is said gargoyles began as creatures created of magic. The first of us were created by wizards to be companions to humans, to be used however the humans desired. But the wizards made us too strong, and soon we overcame our masters and created the first of the Clans.”
Her eyes widened, and he saw the scholarly part of her nature come to the fore. “Is that true?”
“How can anyone know the truth when magic is involved?” He could not help but smile at her chastened look. She was adorable, and brave, and sensual, and all his.
And he would wait no longer to make her his mate.
Terak lowered his voice, and was rewarded by her eyes half closing and her breathing becoming labored. “I know not. What I do know is gargoyles and humans are compatible.”
He covered her mouth with his, a deep invasion that gave no mercy. She would have no doubt to the meaning of his words.
She met him stroke for stroke, his little warrior. She rose up on her knees so their mouths were level and brought her arms around his shoulders as she dug her nails into his back.
She was wearing a flimsy shirt and the same underwear she wore before. Her scent, that same scent that made his mouth water in desperation, wafted around their sanctuary and held him in thrall.
She was aggressive, crawling up his body for better leverage. She pushed into him, her tongue attacking his mouth. As she dominated him from above her hips worked on him, moving in the sensual rhythm he had seen her use many times as she danced while he watched from afar.