“The gargoyle I told you about,” she added, though the clarification was unnecessary. “I’m several months along.”
His gaze dropped to her midsection, though he could not detect any change in her figure. Still, he believed her. If she were a liar, she’d pin it on a gargoyle she knew by name. That might gain her something. No, he was quite certain she carried a child she hadn’t asked for, put in her by a gargoyle who’d defied all sense and every treaty to violate her. And humans couldn’t build mind walls like gargoyles could. She likely remembered every word and deed, every panicked moment.
It disturbed him. He’d seen enough abject cruelty during the war to last him a lifetime. His claws curled against the desk. The scratches from their last meeting were still there, pale grooves in the dark wood.
“Have you sought a remedy?” he asked her.
“I’ve sought every remedy. Unfortunately, at this stage, the risks are great…” She trailed off, seemingly lost in thought, and then collected herself, flatly declaring, “I’ve decided to keep the child.”
He should have felt nothing. The affairs of humans were his concern only insofar as he was required to hear and record them, providing they involved gargoyles. But her resigned tone weaseled beneath his professional detachment, perhaps because he understood the feeling that life did not turn out as one hoped.
“I’m sorry for your situation,” he said, and meant it. He found another quill inside his desk and sliced the tip at the perfect angle with his claw. He’d really become too competentat this role. It was hard to remember the young warrior he’d been before the war. That Rikard would have laughed at such a dedicated bureaucrat. He dipped the pen in the inkwell. “I will add the pregnancy to your complaint, in case the perpetrator is found.”
“Please don’t. I don’t want to find him.”
He froze, taken aback. Ink dripped from the quill, splattering on the entry. “Then why are you here?”
She rose from her seat and came toward him. A bolt of…something. Fear? Shot through him as she approached, her pale-blue eyes flashing. “I never want to see him again. I need a protector. A real one who can keep me safe from him. Give my child a name after it’s born. A father.”
“The child has a father,” he remarked dryly. “We may not know his name, but certainly he exists. All the more reason to seek him out now, so his family can provide you some support.”
She’d reached the desk and leaned over it, resting her hands on the surface. “He is not a father. He is a monster. A nightmare. He can never know about this baby. That’s why I need your help.”
He frowned. “You want me to play matchmaker? Find some human man willing to raise a half-gargoyle child?”
“No, not at all.” She looked at him directly. The terror was still there in her eyes. “I want you.”
The silence that followed was so complete he could hear the moths’ wings against the window. He stared at her, waiting for the rest of the sentence. Any clarification that would change her meaning.
“Me,” he repeated.
“I know you need an heir.” Her pulse was visible in her pale throat, a frantic flutter. “I know you can’t father one yourself.”
The words found a gap in his armor he hadn’t known was exposed. His jaw locked and he growled through his teeth.Moths.Somehow, they’d heard. He only hoped they hadn’t spread their gossip too far. “Who told you?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
He snorted. “In fact, it matters a great deal.”
“Not to this conversation.” Her composure held, the tendons of her neck pulled taut. “It’s quite simple. I have a child growing in me that needs a father and a name. You need an heir you cannot produce. I am suggesting we could solve each other’s problems.”
Her words were so shocking he could barely understand them. Surely she didn’t mean… “If I take you as my mate?”
“Yes.”
He stood, and the sudden movement made her flinch. She should flinch. She should understand exactly what she was proposing. She was offering herself as a mate to a gargoyle who couldn’t fly and couldn’t fuck. He barely had a civil word in his head, and his office was the butt of many jokes. He was hardly a prize.
Yet, he could not deny that he was her best option. The absurdity of it would make him laugh if it weren’t so painfully logical.
“You’re already mated,” he pointed out.
“I’m very aware.” She rubbed behind her ear, grimacing. Even the foul expression didn’t detract from her delicate beauty, he observed. He could imagine worse faces to watch across the breakfast table than hers.
“Then you know a second bond can’t take. The mating bite is singular. One bite, one bond. If I were to bite you, nothing would—”
“You won’t.” Her words were as sharp as claws through silk. “No biting. That is my first condition. My second is no bedding. I don’t want your teeth in me, and I don’t want your cock in me. I’ve had enough of both.” Her hands were trembling again, andshe pressed them into fists. “This would be a mating in name only. A contract between us. I will give you an heir to raise as your own. You give me safety and a home and your family name. We need not share more. I am a creature of the day, and you are a creature of the night. We could live our entire lives in the same quarters and rarely cross paths.”
He gaped at her. Any other gargoyle of his rank, offered a mateless marriage by a disgraced human who came with conditions as thoughshewere the one bestowing a favor, would be offended.
