Page 11 of Stolen by the Gargoyle (Gargoyles of the Underworld #1)

She fell asleep clutching to my hand. At the delicate skin of her wrist, I could feel the soft beating of her pulse.

I could not expel her voice from my mind.

She filled the cavern with the melodious sound of the stories from her childhood and the names of all her favorite objects.

And even I, with as little interaction as I had had with the humans, could hear the wistfulness in her voice as she spoke.

She missed her things.

She missed her life.

I suddenly understood what it was she was attempting to tell me earlier.

I am a human.

I have needs.

Fool that I was, I had not understood until this very moment what it was she needed.

It was because I had lived in the Underworld for so long, moving through a life of torture and battle, that I had not stopped to think about the material aspect of life.

Of course she needed things. She needed gifts and jewels and garments.

An idea formed in my head. It was risky. Dangerous, even. If I were to do this and be caught, it could be the end of me.

But the sole purpose my brothers and I had sought out to seek mates, the reason we had created these traditions, was to prove not only to them that we could protect and provide–that we were worthy–but also to ourselves as well.

With that in mind, I made my decision.

After ensuring she was truly asleep, I once again left the sanctuary of the cave.

This time, I traveled further than I had earlier.

I flew to where the sand made way to an oasis rife with palm trees and beaches.

To where a hill crested over the Underworld and a black tower looked down upon the land.

I circled Castle Death, the spires like spears that jutted towards a darkening sky and a storm of clouds.

Open windows were everywhere, the Lords of the Underworld comfortable in their home knowing that their special wards of magic protected them.

No demon was allowed entry into their space when they had wards protecting them from trespassers.

I was not just any demon. I was a part of them.

A sliver of their essence lived in me, for I had been created for them, by them, to serve them.

I knew what my purpose was in the Underworld, but over time, we had grown into our own beings, gaining our own consciousness.

Our own wants and desires. We were no longer their puppets or unfeeling soldiers.

We had become so much more.

The skies suddenly opened up and rain began pouring down, pelting against my skin. I flew near an open window, blending to the darkness, as I peeked over the edge to peer inside. I did not know the layout of their home, so it took me several tries before I found the window I was searching for.

I flattened myself against the side of the castle, the sound of my wingbeats drowned out by the thunder and lightning that cracked overhead. I watched the scene before me unfold, glancing at those inside.

A woman was there. A woman with a body more curvaceous than my own wife’s, and skin a lighter shade of brown, was clad in a thin, sheer robe that flowed around her body. She twirled in little circles around the room before stopping in front of a mirror.

I watched with rapt attention, holding my breath, praying she would not see me.

For a moment, it appeared as though her gaze flicked into the mirror, staring right in the direction from where I was peering at her, but a moment later, her gaze was back on her reflection as she began arranging the tightly wound coils around her head.

Her hair was the same texture as my wife’s, and I could not help but observe as she went through some strange sort of routine.

Oils, creams, and spray went through her hair and she coiled individual curls around each finger, one after another.

When she finished her ritual, she dug into a drawer, reaching for a colorful cloth that she wrapped around her hair, hiding it from view.

“Are you going to stop staring at me anytime soon?” her melodic voice teased.

I jolted, holding myself incredibly still as she turned, a smile touching her lips.

“Never in a million years, amore.” The male voice that answered came into frame.

He cut a tall, clean figure and something in my chest tugged, like a bond I could not cut loose at the sight of him.

His horns were thin and curved high. His head sported a mess of dark curls, and light brown skin gleamed golden under the bedroom light.

He walked towards her, his tail swishing behind him.

The Lord of Lament.

One of the three kings of the Underworld, and my master.

He approached his mate–and my queen.

The three kings of the Underworld shared a mate amongst each other, and they seemed to love one another equally.

They ruled with heavy fists, and she was a softer balance the Underworld never knew it had needed.

It was because of her arrival that my brothers and I realized we wanted that, too.

It was within our right to take what we desired, despite our kings’ protests.

They had thwarted us many times before, forbidden us from leaving the scorching lands we ruled and fought over.

But when she came, when she blessed this place with an infectious joy, I knew that we had to have something like that.

We deserved it.

I watched as the Lord of Lament wrapped his arms around his wife.

Of the three, he was the kindest, but his kindness was not a weakness. He needed that calm demeanor to guide souls that had crossed to the other side. But I knew he could be vicious when needed.

Right then, none of his ferocity was present. He seemed content, relaxed. Every bit of him was smoothed over as he pulled his mate towards him and leaned down, taking her cheeks in his palms and pressing his lips to hers.

A kiss.

I knew what that action was, but I had never done such a thing before.

It was mesmerizing, the way their lips moved together, searching and exploring. Like they were breathing life within one another and feasting.

I wanted to do that with my mate. I wanted to explore every bit of her like that. I also wanted her to fall into my arms and let me hold her close like my queen did with my king.

Envy gripped me tightly.

Lord Lorenzo’s tail smoothed over Lourdes’ leg, wrapping around her before unfurling and sliding up, going between them and slipping beneath the robe.

Lourdes jumped in surprise and broke away from his kiss, laughing and swatting his chest in a jesting gesture.

“Stop that! You’ll mess up my curls.” Her hands smoothed over her head where her now protected hair was. “You know how long it takes me to get them just right.”

Lord Lorenzo smiled mischievously at her. “Amore, I would never compromise your hard work.” He dropped to his knees in front of her. “Just make sure you stay still while I feast.”

I had seen him feast upon her before. I had caught the act in snippets before I’d forced myself to look away, aware that the moment was too intimate for my eyes.

But it had left me craving. It was why I had done it to my own wife, needing to know what the experience of feasting was like. It had been worth every second.

She laughed again, slapping her palms against his shoulders. “How about we go play on Ramiel’s piano while Kane is busy distracting the kids?”

My lord smiled up at his mate, flashing a feral grin as his hands roamed over her thick hips. “Only if we can break the piano.”

She smiled back at him, giving him the smallest of nods. He moved quickly, lifting her into his arms and causing her to squeal. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and within moments they were whisked away in a puff of smoke, gone from the room.

I waited with bated breath to see if they would return. When several moments passed and they did not, I finally pushed myself through the window, bending my body at awkward angles just to fit.

Inside, I stood on the tips of my claws. If I were to be caught by the Lords of the Underworld, they would obliterate me where I stood, so I moved quickly.

I tore a black satin case from a pillow and then walked over to my queen’s table that held all of her things. I did not want to do this, and I hoped she would forgive me, but my mate had needs. She needed things, and if I could provide them and prove my worth, then I would.

I grabbed fistfuls of shiny jewels that I knew would offset the color of her rich brown skin, shoving them into the sack. Then I rummaged through drawers, pulling out scraps of garments and undergarments, and when I reached a drawer that held several of those hair coverings like my queen had used…

I paused.

My queen had taken great care with each strand of her hair. Primping and coiling, spraying and adding creams in a long process before wrapping them.

Was that what my mate was missing?

Their hair, after all, held the very same texture.

I grabbed handfuls of those hair coverings and proceeded to snatch up the creams, oils, and sprays. I even took a device that looked similar to a weapon attached to a long black cord.

When I believed I had grabbed enough items she might need, I hurried towards the window, just as footsteps sounded outside of the room.

Breath caught in my throat, I pushed myself out of the window and fell down the castle, expanding my wings against the wind and storm, and I made my way back to my den, and my wife, with my loot in hand.