Page 16 of The Gargoyle and the Maiden (Nightfall Guardians #1)

A cry escaped her, but the pain was already transforming into something else—a cool, soothing sensation that spread outward from the bite.

She felt something foreign moving through her blood, lighting her up from the inside, brighter and brighter until it exploded inside her mind, shaking her as deeply as the orgasms he’d so deftly delivered.

Suddenly, Brandt was there in her head. She could feel him from the inside, not just a physical presence but an emotional one.

His fierce protectiveness, his desperate need, his bone-deep satisfaction at finally claiming her as his own.

If she’d needed any proof that he meant what he’d said, she had it now.

“Can you feel me?” she asked wonderingly, marveling at the golden thread of connection that seemed to bind them together.

She pushed her own feelings back at him, her respect and amazement, her desire for him, her worry for his safety.

The tiny seedlings of love that had already sprouted. Her fear for the future.

“Yes. Yes. You’re as beautiful inside as out, like a whole sky full of stars.

But please don’t be afraid. All will be well.

I take care of what’s mine, and you’re mine now,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion.

He licked over his bite, soothing the sting that was already fading. “Mine forever.”

“I feel you, too,” she whispered, her fears fading as she soaked him up. “Your happiness is so strong, it makes me dizzy.”

He laughed, and she felt the sound vibrate through both his chest and their newfound bond. “I have never been so happy,” he admitted. “Even knowing I must leave you soon. Right now, in this moment, I am perfectly content.”

Idabel turned in his arms to face him, studying the familiar harsh planes of his face with fresh eyes as she explored their bond.

There were layers to him she had never suspected.

She knew of his sense of duty and his fierce pride, but she didn’t realize those were underpinned by a deep loneliness.

Nor could she have guessed at the desire for her so profound it took her breath away.

“How long have you felt this way about me?” she asked, reeling.

“Since the first night, I think. When I destroyed your garden.” Shame flooded through the bond.

“I hated myself for causing you pain, even though I was just doing my duty. I told myself the guilt was merely my guardian instinct to protect you, but...” He shrugged. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“I was so angry with you,” she confessed. “But you didn’t report me to the Nadir. You protected me even when I tried to punish you. You shielded me when your own body when I was attacked. I owe you my life…or my hands at the least.”

“Someday I will give you a garden.” He held her gaze for a long beat, and she could feel the depth of his promise. It was impossible, but he would do it, somehow. She believed him.

“I have to go. Betje will be worried,” she said reluctantly, slipping the chemise over her head. He released her so the fabric could fall, covering her. “Can we meet again before you deploy?”

“I don’t know. It’s likely we’ll deploy tomorrow, but I’ll try to find a way to meet you before we leave. If not…promise me you’ll be careful while I’m gone. No more thieving or schemes with war-bat fur. I need to know you’re safe.”

The memory of her deception felt sour now, tainted by the knowledge of how much pain it could have caused both him and the young gargoyle who had nearly attacked her. “I promise. No more schemes.”

“Good. I’ll let my mother know that you’re my mate.

She’s well-connected in the Tower, and her support will make things easier for you.

” He dropped a kiss on the fresh bite mark on her shoulder, making her shiver.

Then he retrieved a key from a wooden chest in the corner of the room and pressed it into her hand.

“My nest is yours. I want you in it while I’m gone. ”

She swallowed and nodded, adding the key to the ring on her belt for safekeeping.

She pulled on her petticoat and struggled into her skirt, all while Brandt watched with rapt attention.

Theirs was a short acquaintance, but she would miss him desperately.

“I’m glad I’ll be able to sense you while you’re gone. ”

“The bond will weaken as the distance between us grows. Don’t be alarmed if it’s faint. If you can feel me, I live and breathe.”

“Will I feel…battles?” The thought was both thrilling and terrifying. To share in his triumph. In his pain if he were hurt.

“No,” he said sharply. “I will build mind walls to shield you from any ugliness of war.”

“What’s a mind wall?” she asked absently as she laced her bodice.

He blew out a breath, rubbing his horns like he was searching for an answer. “What’s an elbow? It is what it is.”

She giggled at his non sequitur. “An elbow is a joint between the upper and lower parts of the arm. A bony prominence. A very useful body part.” She gave evidence by nudging him in the rib with hers.

He nipped at her. “A mind wall is a wall in the mind, then. A way to separate one’s thoughts to avoid feeling or thinking about certain things until a more appropriate time. I don’t believe humans have them. You feel everything all the time.”

Idabel swallowed, pushing back against a storm of memories and pain that threatened to roll over the landscape of her mind, her mouth tight and determined until it was all firmly locked away. Brandt must have caught wind of it through the bond because his smile slipped as he studied her face.

“We have some version,” she said quietly. “Perhaps an earthen version of your stone walls.”

He nodded, understanding flickering between them. “I will keep you safe in my mind.”

“I should go,” she said weakly.

“If you must,” he agreed, his hands wandering down her back, tracing the curve of her waist with possessive familiarity.

Through the bond, she felt his reluctance, his desire to keep her here in his nest where she would be safe and his for a few more hours. It matched her own impulse so perfectly that for a moment she couldn’t tell which of them was feeling it.

“Tomorrow night?” she forced out. “I’ll come to you tomorrow night, just after dusk. You’ll be here?”

“I’ll stay as long as I can. Whatever happens,” he added fiercely, and the promise in his voice made her hands clench. “Whatever happens, the bond will hold.”

She pushed up on her toes to kiss him in case it was goodbye and hurried out through the servants’ passages and ladders before she gave in and stayed.

Only when she was halfway to the apothecary shop did she realize that everything in her life had changed in just a few short hours. She was no longer a refugee, nor a maiden, nor on the edge of losing everything. She was Brandt’s mate, bound to him by magic older than the fallen gods themselves.

Despite the impossible nature of their pairing, the uncertain future that lay ahead, and the war that would soon separate them, she had never been happier. She had a home and family once more.