Page 12 of Stolen by the Gargoyle (Gargoyles of the Underworld #1)

It was the tug on my hair that woke me from a deep sleep.

A repetitive, gentle pull, snagging at the strands…

over and over and over. The movements were soft and careful, lifting each coil piece by piece.

It lulled me into a sense of security and made me sigh deeply and comfortably.

I could feel myself melting into the blankets that wrapped around me, and though I didn’t want to, I opened my eyes to find Nazzar staring intently at my hair.

He was playing with it, untangling each section in the most gentle manner possible.

I’d known he was capable of such care. After all, he’d displayed it towards me over and over again since he’d brought me here, but it still somehow felt like a shock. To see such a big creature show such gentleness towards me made a little bit of that coldness in my chest melt.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

He stilled, those black orbs catching on me. He’d known I was awake, but he still seemed almost bashful, the purple tint of his skin almost rising like a blush to those chiseled cheekbones.

“Your hair,” he said, by way of explanation. I waited as he seemed to struggle to find his words. I didn’t push or prod, just waited patiently. As I did, that purple color seemed to stain his cheeks even more.

“I have mistreated it,” he said finally. “It needs care and I did not realize.”

I winced. There were no mirrors in his den, but I could only imagine the sorry picture I made. My hair had probably tangled together, and without product or a bonnet, I knew it probably looked dry and maybe even a bit matted.

That sudden urge to cry gripped me again.

But then Nazzar was pulling me up into a seated position.

“I have something for you,” he said softly. “Gifts.”

My brows rose. “Gifts?”

He reached into a black satin pillowcase and began pulling things out, placing them upon my lap like they were treasures.

And shit, I supposed some of the things were.

There were diamond necklaces and collars studded with black jewels, rings with fat rubies and mismatching earrings.

Then there were the lacey underthings that I held up.

They were meant for a body thicker than mine, and probably wouldn’t have fit, but he was staring at me with hope in his eyes, I couldn’t bear to say anything about it.

Then there were hair care products. Expensive ones that had obviously been used, given the fact that they were open and half empty, but the sight of them was enough to bring a smile to my face as if I’d won the lottery.

Pretty sad, if you thought about it.

“My hair desperately needs these.” I pulled them into my arms. “Thank you.” My brows creased as I was met with another sight. “Is that a hair dryer?”

It was.

I wasn’t sure why he’d even bothered with that one, considering there was no electricity in his cave, and nowhere I could even plug the damn thing in.

“Are you pleased with them?”

“Yes.” It wasn’t a lie. Though I missed my own stuff, having something besides just these blankets he had provided made me feel strangely better. Not completely, but it was a start.

Nazzar’s hand cradled my face. His thick, black claws gentle against my hair. His entire palm encompassed my whole face, that’s how big he was. I didn’t want to imagine how big the rest of him was.

Don’t think about that.

“I am pleased,” he said.

“Where did you get all of this?” I gestured at it.

His brows pulled together in a line that suggested he didn’t want to answer the question. Honestly, that made me even more suspicious and my eyes narrowed on him. I mean, obviously they were used. But who had he taken them from?

“Nazzar?”

His entire body jolted, and he jerked forward over me. I held my breath, watching the flare of his nostrils and the rattling breaths he pulled into his body. The subtle way his entire body lit in a light purple hue, like a low fire lived beneath his skin.

“You spoke my name,” he whispered, his voice sounding strangled, like it hurt to get the words out.

He reached out, one sharp tipped claw swiping against my lower lip.

It felt like a dangerous thing to do, given how pointed they were.

But there was also something thrilling about that, toeing the edge of pain and pleasure together.

I shouldn’t be thinking about that at all, but it was the first thing that came to my mind, and I couldn’t shake the thought. Not when he leaned forward and whispered, “Say it again.”

My tongue darted out to wet my lips, catching against his claw. He sucked in his own breath at the action, and for some reason that made me feel powerful.

“Nazzar.”

The inky eyes seemed to shine like pools of ink, like a night sky, black but scattered with glittering stars.

He looked like he wanted to pounce on me. To jump and wrap me in his arms, maybe even give me a repeat of what he’d done the day before. To dive tongue first in between my legs and feast.

I almost wondered if he would, and then those same fears came rearing their ugly head. The ones that wondered if he would take what I’d be unwilling to give. I held my breath, waiting to see what would happen. If he would do it. If he would try.

Nazzar’s nostrils seemed to flare as he jerked back, shaking his head back and forth. A furrow appeared on his brow, and he sniffed the air around me.

The way he did it made me feel self-conscious, and I curled in on myself. “What?” I demanded, wondering if I stunk. I probably did, considering I was in a fucking cave with no soap.

“Your scent changed,” he said, though it came out disgruntled.

“My scent?” My eyes widened. “What does that mean?”

He sniffed again. “Desire and then fear.” He looked startled by that. “Do you fear me, wife?”

I could only just make out the hurt in his expression, and it shouldn’t have mattered. He’d kidnapped me, after all, but I felt inexplicably bad for making him feel that way. Because even if he’d kidnapped me, he’d also given me a really good orgasm, fed me, and had given me gifts.

Jesucristo, the bar was literally in hell.

“Yes.”

His wings twitched like they wanted to ward off my words.

“Why?” His claw left my lip and went to his chest, raking through his flesh.

His injuries from the day before had healed over, leaving the faint sign of a scar in place.

But his claws curved over that same spot now, digging grooves into his chest. “Do you think I would harm you?” His claws tore into his skin, piercing it and causing blood to flow across the gray.

“I would sooner cut out my own heart.” As if he meant to punctuate his point, he pushed deeper, making a strangled sound come out of his throat.

“Stop!” I reached for his arm, tugging on his bicep. “Don’t do that!”

“If I must prove to you that I will not hurt you, then you will let me do this.” He almost doubled over.

He was as hard as a boulder, and I couldn’t move him no matter how hard I pulled. Was he really going to maim himself–potentially kill himself–all because I was afraid of him? That was crazy, even for him. And it wasn’t something I wanted.

I lurched forward, pressing my hands over his, staunching the flow of his blood. “Please,” I begged, my lower lip trembling. “Please don’t do this.”

He must have heard the distress in my voice because he froze, looking at me with a pained expression. But it was the kind that went deeper than physical pain. It was worlds and worlds of hurt, rising to the surface.

“Can you just let me explain?”

It took a few moments, but eventually he slackened enough so that I could pull his hand, slipping his claws from his chest. I didn’t speak right away, grabbing one of the flimsy pieces of clothes he got for me and cleaning his blood with it.

He watched my movements with over-assessing eyes.

There was tenderness and shock there that made me feel nervous.

When I finished, I took a deep breath. A part of me felt like he wouldn’t hurt me, but the anxiety was hard to push away.

I equated the danger with being kidnapped.

Maybe we were just from different cultures, with different customs and ideas.

But that still was no excuse. I had a right to feel what I did, even if they were conflicting emotions.

I had a right to them, and it was time he knew what was in my heart, and why I felt so afraid.

“In the human world, taking someone against their will is a crime,” I told him slowly. He held onto every word like one would a fragile baby bird. “Usually when someone takes another person, they have evil intentions. It’s… frowned upon.”

His wings twitched.

“So when you took me and I woke up here, I was afraid of what you would do to me.”

“I would not harm you.”

“That’s what you say, but my feelings are… different. I don’t know you that well. I thought, when you told me you would mate with me, that you would… that you would do it even if I didn’t want to.”

At this, Nazzar jerked back, his mouth dropping open in obvious horror. “You think I would mate with you against your will?”

I didn’t say anything, but I didn’t need to. He seemed to understand my facial expression well enough.

“Only monsters without morals would take advantage of those weaker than them.” He sounded disgusted, and that made me feel a sense of relief. “Wife…” He scooted closer and then thought better of it, scooting back to give me my space. “I would never take what was not freely given.”

I felt a tear slip. “But you took me.”

He seemed to realize then that his words were in conflict with one another. His mind seemed to be working rapidly, like he was trying to solve a particularly complicated puzzle. “It is tradition to take a bride,” he said. “But we would never take from them.”

“I’m human, Nazzar,” I reminded him. “I told you before, I have needs. And I know you said you don’t mean me any harm, but you are harming me. You have to know that.”

“How?” he choked out. “Tell me, so that I may fix it.”

“I cannot stay here. Humans need showers and toilets. I need my clothes and yes, the things you provided are pretty, but they aren’t my things. I need a meal and a proper bed. I need… a proper house.”

He drank every word in with quiet contemplation. He assessed me, looking over my appearance, and I wondered if he was finally realizing that I probably looked haggard, tired. I needed sunlight, air, and rain. I couldn’t be locked up in a cave forever.

He took a deep breath.

“I understand.” He stood to his full height, towering over me and spreading his wings wide.

He looked monstrous, but not like a monster. Even with the angry, almost stern expression, he held out a hand. “Come.”

I stood up and took it.

“I have harmed you,” he said, remorse filling every word.

Like he felt the heavy weight of my words, understood them even.

“And while it was not my intention to have caused you harm, the impact of my harm cannot be excused. All I can ask is for your forgiveness, and for the opportunity to rectify my mistakes.”

That was actually touching. He was owning up to his mistakes, offering the chance to do better. It was more than what many humans owned up to, that was for sure.

“How are you going to do that?” I cocked my head to the side.

He looked at me, sadness etched over every single piece of him.

“I am going to take you home.”