8. Kaia

After getting everything I wanted from the market, we are home, and my feet are aching. Selah was right — Thoren didn’t say no to a single thing. Even food that I didn’t say I wanted ended up in his arms. He told me I communicated very well with my eyes and that he could tell I wanted to try it. So a small fortune later, here we are.

Thoren is doing something in the kitchen, and I am lying on the floor in front of the fire. He has a very comfortable rug; the fibers are soft and warm. When we got back to his home, he cleaned and wrapped my feet, cursing me under his breath the whole time. I guess he really doesn’t like that I walked barefoot that whole way. Looking back, it was ridiculously stubborn. And now I’m paying for it.

The fire crackles and pops, and I roll over onto my side as Thoren walks up to my little spot. He’s holding a large tray of food. It looks like his version of a charcuterie board. There’s a little of everything he bought me today, along with some steaming tea and a glass of water. He sets it down next to where I’m lying and then plops down himself.

“There are things we should talk about, and I thought it may go over smoother if you eat.” His grin is a tease, and I can’t help but laugh with him.

“Your sister told me a lot, but I still think I have a lot of questions.” I pick up a pastry that is filled to the brim with cheese and onion. The crust is golden brown and flaky, the center hot as he just pulled it from the oven. I take a bite, and a moan escapes my mouth. “This is heaven,” I say over a mouthful of buttery, cheesy goodness.

“It is all I can do to keep myself from touching you, Kaia.” His voice is deep and gruff, and the change in demeanor causes me to gasp when I catch his eyes. “Keep making those noises, and my restraint may fail.”

I swear I can feel the vibration from his growl all the way across the rug. It sweeps up my legs and aims right for my clit. My nipples harden, and my mouth goes dry. I feel light-headed. Is this what Selah was talking about? Is the mating bond doing this? Or is he just that sexy?

My bet is a little of both. His navy eyes are practically glowing in the firelight as he looks me up and down. I can feel his eyes on me like a physical touch, a soft feather of a caress. My god, do I have the same effect on him? Have I this entire time?

“Stop staring and ask your questions, Goldilocks.”

I jolt as if coming out of a trance and ask the first question that comes to my mind. “Can I ask how old you are?”

“I have been around for close to a century,” he says, looking almost shy, like he’s afraid it’ll put me off. But if anything, it just fascinates me that someone can actually live that long. Does it get lonely? Especially when you’re waiting for a mate.

“Well, you look damn good for your age.”

That makes him laugh, tossing his head back and exposing the strong length of his throat. I find myself staring again, even as his gaze locks with mine, and we just sit there for a moment in silence, taking each other in.

“Anything else you want to ask me?” His voice is softer now, the mood in the room having taken a turn toward the sensual. With the orange, flickering glow of the fire and the way his eyes roam my body, I steel myself to ask a more personal question.

“Yeah, sorry. She, uh — Selah. She mentioned something about, like, sex and stuff.” God. I sound like a thirteen-year-old girl talking to her school crush.

The answering laugh booms from his chest, shocking me with its force. His smile is wide, and his eyes are crinkled in the corners. He runs a hand through his wild gray hair and then shrugs.

“Gods help me,” he says, and then he leans forward. That hand that was just in his hair grabs hold of my throat, pulling me across the board of food. I manage to dodge shoving my hand into the bowl of fruit at the last second, catching myself instead on his thigh. It’s rock solid beneath my fingers, and I squeeze it to catch my balance.

I blink, and his lips are on mine. They’re soft despite his hard body and warm as they envelop my own. My eyes close, lashes fluttering like I’m in a damn rom-com. When I sigh, he takes that as an invitation, his tongue snaking in to tease my own. He tastes like the ale he’s been sipping on since we got home, and I’m mortified that I probably taste like cheese and fucking onions.

But he doesn’t seem to care, and I guess I don’t either. Because I move to sit on top of him, my hands touching every part of him that I can as my legs settle around his hips. He is hard and so incredibly large. My hips roll to find friction for my clit, which is throbbing with need. His strong arms hold me against his body, making me feel safe and wanted.

He breaks the kiss and looks into my eyes, his fingers curling around my messy waves. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes upon.” His lips find mine again, this time slower. “And I would love to take you to bed right now and make you my mate in every sense of the word.”

My entire body sings with joy. I could probably break out into song and dance.

“But I will not.” Oh . “Because you need a clear head when you make the decision.”

“Which decision?” My brain is foggy from the endorphins shooting around up there.

“Whether or not to stay,” he says softly before lifting me up and off his body. I am put back to where I was on the other side of the snack board, a good few feet from my handsome gargoyle. Mine? When did I start thinking of him like that? And when did I start thinking that decision wasn’t already made?

“The bond will influence your thinking,” he explains. “It will, at times, cloud your judgment and give you a very strong urge to mate with me.”

“Mate,” I say dumbly, my eyes barely able to leave those biceps he’s rocking. “As in…?”

His grin is feral. Well, that answers that question.

“Okay, so how do we stop it from influencing whether or not I want to stay?” I try hard to shake the fog, but my heart is slow to take notice.

“Maybe we try not to give in to the urges.” He shrugs like he isn’t actually sure that will work. “Once we start, I fear we may not stop. I’ve heard many stories.”

“Yeah, I heard that from Selah, too. Some new couples don’t come out of their houses ’til they have a kid? That is hard work.”

“Yes.” He chuckles. “It is. But work I am willing to do nonetheless. Although I do not think it would be wise. If we don’t stop, you’ll not want to leave. If we don’t start, you may be able to keep a clear head and decide when the time is right.”

“I feel weird saying this because I literally met you yesterday, and you’re a gargoyle, but that feels like an impossible task. I am?—”

“It does?” He seems shocked, his eyes going wide as he looks at my face to detect if I’m lying. “You find me attractive?”

Now I’m the one that’s shocked. “How could I not?” I scoff. “You’ve carved out of fucking marble, Thoren. Eyes like the deepest part of the ocean. A smile that makes my knees weak. And the whole salt-and-pepper thing you have going on? Yeah, I find you attractive.” And I realize that, yeah, I really find Thoren attractive. From his looks to his sometimes surly personality. He’s a catch.

“You are too kind to me,” he says, his smile soft as he gazes at me. “You are just as beautiful, if not more, sweet Kaia.”

Oh, I like it when he calls me that.

I clear my throat, hoping to change the subject. If we’re going to get anywhere, we’re going to have to stop talking about looks and attraction and sex . A shiver runs down my spine.

“So, Selah told me that you made your future mate a ring?” I laugh faintly. “I know I’m probably not what you expected. But could I see it? I’d like to see something you made.”

“That was not her place.” When I look up, his face has changed. The frown is back, and this time, it looks as if he means it. There’s no more playfulness behind his eyes.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” I feel stupid immediately. That was so fucking stupid of me. Of course I wasn’t what he was expecting, so why would I get to see the ring. That was… God, that was really embarrassing. The shame spreads through me like wildfire. “I’m so sorry, I should not have asked that.”

“It is just not—” He stammers, his face softening just slightly. And I am now even more embarrassed because he’s going to pity me for wanting to see it. My anxiety skyrockets. This is a gargoyle , and I am a human . This would never work. I need to go home. ASAP.

“No, I get it. Please, don’t worry yourself.” I look down at the food and grab the rest of the pastry, along with the tea. “I’m really tired,” I tell him as I stand. “I am going to go eat this in my room so that I can rest.”

Before he can say anything, I walk down the short hallway and close the door behind me after entering a spare bedroom he’s let me use. My head drops back onto the heavy wooden door, and I fight the urge to cry. I will not cry. This isn’t permanent. I will find someone who can send me home.

“You don’t have to stay here,” I whisper to myself. Maybe if I hear it, I’ll believe it. “Even if you have to stay in this world, you are not stuck here .”

Even though I’m sad and anxious, I’m still absolutely starving. All that walking and time traveling will take it out of a girl. So I sit down on the bed and eat the most delicious pastry of my life and try to actually enjoy it. I wash it down with the tea, mostly cold now that I’ve waited so long, and then crawl under the covers.

Tomorrow, we’ll try again.