“Braeya?”
“Yes, that was her name.”
I think back to my dream. The intensity in Jacques’s eyes. The feeling of time running out. He said he stopped believing in everything he fought for before he was cursed. Was this woman the reason why?
He was a priest for the Templars. Braeya was the daughter of a sorcerer. If they had a thing going on…talk about forbidden love.
My head spins and I yawn. Thomas takes my hand in his and motions to the stairs.
“If the couch isn’t comfortable, you should take one of the beds upstairs.”
“I need the fire,” I remind him. “It’s too cold up there for me, but hopefully I’ll be able to turn the heater on tomorrow. It’s like a built-in fireplace in the walls. Kind of. It keeps the whole house warm.”
“Sounds dangerous.”
“This old one probably is, but upgrading to a new system would cost a lot more than I can afford.” I resituate my blankets. “The couch will be good enough. I have to get up in a few hours, anyway.”
Thomas slides his arm around me, and I lean into him, resting my head on his shoulder. He envelopes his other arm around me, massaging my back again. My eyes fall shut, and if it wasn’t for the feel of his wings against me, it would feel like I’m snuggled up next to a normal man. He trails his fingers down my spine, relaxing and enticing me at the same time.
He pulls me to him and lies back, bringing me with him. My head rests on his chest, and I listen to his heartbeat. He continues to run his hands up and down my back, lulling me to sleep. The fire crackles next to us, casting long shadows across the room.
“I always thought I’d have this,” he whispers.
“Have what?” I whisper back, not opening my eyes.
“A wife. And then a family.”
His words are enough to jolt me awake. I sit up and look into his sky-blue eyes. “You wanted a family?”
“Yes,” he confesses, and his famous cocky grin is nowhere to be seen. There is sadness and longing in his eyes.
“But you joined the Templars.”
“It wasn’t my choice to join.” He starts rubbing my back again, though this time there’s nothing sexual in his touch. I rest my head on his chest again, splaying my fingers over his broad shoulder. “Gil and I are the youngest of six. Our eldest sibling is—was—our sister, Mary. She was married to a Duke before I was even born. Then came John, set to inherit the family’s fortune. Elizabeth came after him, and shortly after we swore into the Templars, she got engaged to a banker. Paul was everything my father could have wanted in a son and was the spare in case John died. With two heirs and two daughters married into rich families, he didn’t want or need us.”
“Oh, wow. I’m sorry.”
Thomas shrugs. “It’s how things were back then. And it’d be lying if I didn’t say Gil and I got into our fair share of trouble and used the family name to get what we wanted. I think we both knew it would come to this if we didn’t settle down. And I wanted to, but I refused two arrangements set up for me by my father.”
“You wanted to be in love.”
“Yes,” he admits. “When I refused the second marriage proposal, I was told I brought shame to the family. Our father tried to offer Gil instead. He refused too, and off we went, as expected.”
“But you never expected to be turned into gargoyles.”
“No,” he laughs, and that smirk is back. “That was not something I ever expected.” His hand moves down to the curve of my lower back. I crave more of his touch. I want him to make me feel. “I don’t believe in all the godly shit Jacques and Hasan do, and I can tell you don’t either. But I’m starting to think maybe they were onto something about destiny and fate.”
I lift my head, eyes locking with his. “I’m starting to believe it, too.”
11
Irun a brush through my hair, eyeing the time. I woke up fifteen minutes before my alarm went off and was alone, missing Thomas the moment I realized he was gone. He opened up last night, showed me there’s very much a man behind the mask, and I almost wish he hadn’t.
I have no idea how to break the curse.
I have no idea how to use magic.
And I’m still not sure I actually have powers.
