That, and the fact that he’s the first living creature to touch me in seven years.
“I…” I glance at his hands. His claws are retracted and nowhere to be seen. His palms have softened against the suit protecting my shoulder and waist, becoming gentle. He withdraws them slowly, loosening his hold in degrees.
He says, “I can’t kill you.”
His wings peel away from the rock face, daggers drawing out as he steps away from me. I cling to the solid surface behind me to stay on my feet.
He sweeps his wings upward and they fold at his sides. “You will leave now.”
I nod rapidly. “Yes. I’ll go.” I stoop to retrieve the lamp, angry at the way I miss the pressure of the gargoyle’s hands on my shoulder. Angrier that I want Baelen’s hands and can’t have them. “No, wait.”
The gargoyle swings back to me, wary edges showing again.
I say, “There are other elves on this mountain tonight. They don’t know you’re here, but they’ll attack you if they see you. You need to stay out of sight.”
He frowns, drawing upright, muscles rippling without effort. “They won’t defeat me.”
“I believe you, but I can’t leave until I know you’re safe.”
His demand is swift and sharp. “Why?”
“Because I promised someone I’d make sure we didn’t start a war tonight.”
The gargoyle studies me. “Then you’ll need to douse your lamp.”
It’s still burning at the base of the rock. I’m lucky it hasn’t caused a fire, but there’s nothing much to burn around it other than rock and moss. I kill the flame and wait for my eyes to adjust.
A smile plays around the gargoyle’s mouth as he sees my reaction. My jaw drops as I realize how much I was missing because of the lamplight. Elyria spider webs glow like threads of silver across the rock inside the cave, drawing me toward it. I pause beside the gargoyle and point to the side of the opening.
“I’ll wait here until they’ve passed by and then I’ll—”
The air leaves my lungs as the gargoyle sweeps me up inside his wings. It’s warm and surprisingly comforting inside his arms, even though the contact is brief. He deposits me just as quickly inside the mouth of the cave.
He growls in my ear before he thuds to the other side of the cave, “You may as well see what you’re protecting.”
It’s impossible not to see the nest with the two small bodies inside it. One of the babies is a miniature of its father—skin like smooth, grey rock and jagged wings folded at its side. But the baby sleeping beside it has skin as soft-looking as an elf’s. In fact, it’s identical to an elf except that its ears are rounded.
It looks…human.
I spin to the gargoyle. “That’s a human baby.”
To my surprise, he laughs, closing the distance to the nest, leaning over the child. “Look closer.”
I peer at the baby, its arms and one little foot peeking from its silken blankets. Tucked neatly behind its back are gauzy wings, delicate like finely-spun silver.
“But… it’s beautiful.”
The gargoyle runs his finger across the child’s wispy hair as it stays soundly asleep. His hand is twice the size of its head. “You’ve never seen a female gargoyle.”
I shake my head, gazing at the little girl.
“Our females give birth only once and always to twins: a boy and a girl. The boy is what you recognize: skin as hard as steel, face as sharp as flint, and deadly wings.” He grins at me, shaking his wings and showing his teeth as he speaks to demonstrate his features. “But our females are more beautiful than the most beautiful of your kind. They are moonlight.” He hesitates. “Just like you are storm.”
I shake my head. “How did I not know this?”
His grin fades. “It’s easier to hate something if you think it’s ugly.”
All those pictures of vicious gargoyles… I never once saw anything that looked like the baby girl sleeping in front of me. I rest my hands on the edge of the nest. It’s built up out of rock, but covered in silken blankets. “Why are you here inside elven borders? You must know it’s dangerous.”
