9. Garrex

CHAPTER NINE

GARREX

M y eyes snapped open, stone skin cracking as I lurched from my slumber. A wave of dread washed over me with awareness. Wrong. Something was wrong.

Gwen.

Her name tore through me like lightning and set fire to the last remnants of my daytime slumber.

Gwen's scent lingered in the air, but it was stale, hours old.

The library was a disaster. Books strewn across the floor, papers scattered like fallen leaves. My gaze locked on the shattered display case. Empty.

No diadem. No charms.

No Gwen.

I stumbled through the wreckage, each step a knife twist of guilt. I'd allowed myself to become distracted. Again.

Centuries of failure crashed down on me. Cecily's blood on my hands. Now Gwen.

My mate. My everything.

Fuck.

I'd sworn to protect her. To keep her safe. I'd stood there, an unconscious witness to whatever horrors snatched her from our sanctuary.

I bolted for the stairs. Up and up, I took them three at a time. My wings scraped against the walls, stone against stone, as I burst into the night and shot toward the heavens.

A faint tingle raced over my skin. I flared my nostrils, picking up the scent before I rounded the bend and found him blocking the way.

Sulien, Ivy's gargoyle protector.

"Always too late, aren't you, Garrex." The bastard unfolded from his lean against the wall, his wings flexing open. "Your little witch is long gone."

"Where is she?" I snarled.

Sulien's lips curled into a sneer. "Paying for your mistakes, just like the rest of us."

My vision blurred red. My pulse roared in my ears. I lunged, but Sulien dodged, and my fist hit the wall. Chunks of stone broke off, crumbling to our feet.

"How much does your witch know, I wonder?" Sulien's eyes glittered with malice. "Does she know you abandoned your post for a pretty face and a flagon of ale? That your weakness damned us all? What will she do when she finds out the truth?"

Every word stabbed like a dagger, but I couldn't deny the truth of it. My failure had cursed our entire clan, and I'd paid for it. Night after night, death after death, hating every second I moved freely just as much as the ones spent still as a statue.

I paid. Not Gwen. And none of our shared battles as men or beasts would matter if Sulien stood between me and my witch.

"And yet here you are, still bound by it." I flexed my fists. "What's Ivy promised you, Sulien? Freedom?"

"What I've always wanted," he spat. "To be free of this curse. All she needed was a Thorne witch."

Rage ignited in my veins, burning away the shame. "I won't let you touch her."

"You can't stop me." Sulien lunged, his stone fist slamming into my jaw.

I staggered back, tasting blood. But the pain only fueled my anger. I roared, launching myself at Sulien. The crack of stone echoed off the walls as we grappled on the stairs, centuries of resentment adding power to our blows.

I slammed my former compatriot against the wall, feeling the satisfying crunch of his wing. He roared in pain and retaliated, his fist connecting with my jaw. My head snapped back, but I used the momentum to headbutt him.

He reeled back, his nose shattered.

I feinted left, then spun right, my wing slicing across Sulien's chest. He stumbled, off balance, and I pressed my advantage. A flurry of blows, stone chips flying with each impact.

Driving him backward.

His foot missed a step.

His wings spread wide to counter.

With a final punch, Sulien tumbled backward down the stairs. Cracks spread over his chest. Down his arms. A horn snapped in half.

He hit the bottom and shattered, stone pieces scattering across the floor.

I stood over the remains, my chest heaving. The silence of finality was deafening, broken only by the grinding of my joints as I turned away.

I had to find Gwen. I had to save her from Ivy's clutches. From the fate I'd condemned her to with my weakness.

I burst into the night sky, my wings straining as I pushed myself faster, higher. The city blurred beneath me, a twinkling maze of lights and shadows. But I knew where I was going. I could feel it, like a tether pulling me towards her.

I landed silently in the courtyard of The Arcane Nook and folded back my wings. The wards prickled against my flesh, but they kept out vampires, not gargoyles.

Besides, Ivy expected Sulien's return.

I tested the door and found it unlocked. I slipped inside, every sense on high alert and ready for attack.

The silence within The Arcane Nook pressed down with muffled unnaturalness. My feet made no sound on the wood floors, yet each step felt like a thunderclap in the stillness.

Something was very wrong here.

A faint scent tickled my nostrils—decay, rot, the unmistakable odor of death. My stomach churned as I followed the putrid trail, every instinct screaming danger.

The scent led me to a heavy wooden door at the end of a long hallway. Two figures in dark cloaks slumped motionless before it, guardians even in death. I pulled aside one hood and sucked in a breath.

A dried, long-dead husk stared back at me.

With a snarl of disgust, I released the cloak and let the husk fall to the ground. What twisted magic had Ivy wrought? Those... things were an abomination. A perversion.

One she'd performed at least twice.

I shoved past the desiccated sentinels. The door they guarded creaked open, revealing stairs descending into the darkness. The stench of decay grew stronger, mixing with the musty odor of long-forgotten places.

I made my way down, each step bringing me closer to the source of that foul smell. The air grew thick and damp; the walls closing in around me. At the bottom, the stairway opened into a basement, its corners shrouded in shadow.

My eyes, accustomed to piercing the darkest night, scanned the room. Shelves lined the walls, laden with jars of unidentifiable substances and arcane implements. But it was what lay beyond that caught my attention.

A section of the wall had been pushed aside, revealing a hidden passage. The scent of decay wafted from its depths, mingling with the dank smell of stagnant water.

I paused at the threshold of the hidden passage, every sense trying to pierce the veil of darkness beyond. The air was thick with the stench of decay and stagnant water.

But beneath it all, I caught a whiff of something else. Something alive. Something afraid.

Then I heard it. A soft, muffled sound that sent ice through my veins.

A whimper. Gwen's whimper.

All thoughts of caution evaporated in an instant. With a roar that shook dust from the ancient stones, I burst through the doorway, my wings unfurling to their full span in the chamber beyond.

The vast space of an old cistern stretched out before me, its dank puddles reflecting the flickering light of scattered torches.

And there, in the center of it all, was Gwen.

Weakened, surrounded by vampires, but alive. Relief warred with fury at the sight of her, slumped and barely conscious, her skin marred with bites and scratches.

"Garrex?" she slurred, her unfocused eyes finding mine. "You came..."

"Gwen!" I roared, surging forward. My hands clenched into fists, ready to slam into the closest vampire, to tear through heads and hearts for daring to go near my witch, let alone take her blood.

But before I could reach her, a figure emerged from the shadows, flanked by the dark-cloaked husks smelling suspiciously like the husks I'd left upstairs.

Ivy.

She held up a hand, and the vampires around Gwen snarled, their fangs inches from her throat. I froze, every muscle in my body screaming to act, but knowing one wrong move could end Gwen's life.

"Ah, Garrex," Ivy purred, a cruel smile twisting her lips. "What an unwelcome surprise."

"Let her go, Ivy," I growled, my fists clenching at my sides.

Ivy's smile only widened. "Oh, I'm afraid I can't do that. You see, we're about to begin a very important ritual. And your little witch here is the guest of honor."

She turned to Gwen, her tone sickeningly sweet. "Have you reconsidered my offer, darling?"

Gwen's eyes blazed with defiance. "Go to hell."

"Such spirit," she sneered. "I wonder if you'll keep it when you learn the truth about your protector." She locked eyes with me, triumph glittering in their depths. "Shall I tell her, Garrex? About how you abandoned Cecily the night she died?"

The words weren't anything new. Traitor. Betrayer. Monster. They'd all been flung at my feet over the centuries.

Gwen's sharp intake of breath cut through me, worse than any claw or fang or blade.

"That's right," Ivy continued, relishing every syllable. "Your brave gargoyle was all too happy to follow that witch to her room and slide between her thighs while poor Cecily battled for her life. And now, here we are. Because of him."

I couldn't look at Gwen. Couldn't bear to see the disgust, the betrayal in her eyes. But her voice, when it came, was steel.

"I don't care," she spat. "I won't help you, Ivy. Not now, not ever."

"So be it." Ivy's face twisted with rage. She removed a necklace from around her neck and placed it on Gwen's before stepping away and gesturing to her vampires. "Kill him. But the girl is mine."

The vampires surged forward in a tide of fangs and claws. I met them head-on, centuries of shame and fury backing each blow.

Stone fists shattered bones. The first vampire disintegrated to ash as my fist connected with its chest. Another lost its head to the sweep of my wing. Blood—lifeless, cold—splattered across my face, but I barely noticed. My world had narrowed to a singular purpose: reach Gwen.

Her scream pierced the air, and something inside me snapped.

I tore through the horde, but they outnumbered me. Claws dug into the gouges and cracks of my skin. Fingers tried to pry me apart. I punched and kicked and swiped, smashing fangs and faces. With each fallen foe, I inched closer to my witch's slumped form.

A flicker of movement caught my eye. Ivy, her face contorted with rage, clutched the diadem to her chest. The air crackled with dark energy as she chanted.

The diadem in Ivy's hands glowed an ominous red, pulsing in time with her words. The two husks clamped their withered hands on Gwen's arms, holding her in place for whatever ritual Ivy had planned.

"No!" I roared, redoubling my efforts to reach Gwen.

A vampire lunged at me, and I caught it by the throat, using its body as a shield against the others as I pushed forward. With a final heave, I hurled the creature at Ivy, disrupting her chant.

She staggered back, her concentration broken. The diadem slipped from her grasp, clattering to the ground between us.

Ivy's face contorted with rage. Unholy shadows swirled around her fingers. I braced myself, ready to counter her attack.

The impact sent me staggering back. The stone of my arms cracked under the force of her magic. A fissure erupted down a wing. I roared in pain and fury as her magic shoved me back across the damp floor of the cistern.

"No!" Ivy screeched suddenly, her attention snapping away from me. "Stop!"

I whirled around, following her gaze. There was Gwen, the diadem now cradled in her lap, her fist wrapped tightly around the necklace at her throat. My breath caught as I realized—it wasn't just any necklace. It was the locket we'd recovered.

Somehow, in all the chaos, she'd found a way to open it.

A small bird charm tumbled from the locket, landing softly in Gwen's lap beside the diadem. Time seemed to slow as Gwen's fingers reached for the charm, her mouth tight with determination.

"Gwen, wait—" I called out, but it was too late.

The instant the bird charm touched the diadem, a blinding flash of light erupted from the artifacts. A shockwave of pure, light energy exploded outward, rippling through the air with devastating force.

The vampires didn't stand a chance. As the wave of light washed over them, they crumbled to dust, their unholy existence snuffed out in an instant.

The husks staggered but remained standing, their unnatural animation resisting the surge of power.

Ivy, her face a mask of fury and fear, gathered the last of her dark magic for one final, desperate attack.

But Gwen was ready. Her hair whipped around her face, her eyes glowing with an otherworldly light.

A torrent of mystical energy poured from her palms, a purifying flame that consumed everything in its path. The husks disintegrated. Ivy's scream of defiance turned to one of agony as the wave of magic engulfed her, leaving nothing but ash in its wake.

Gwen pressed her palms to the floor, and the pure energy followed. Tendrils speared through down, past the confines of the cistern, deep into the earth. I could feel it in the air, in the stone beneath my feet—a reawakening of something long dormant.

As the last tendrils of magic faded, Gwen slumped forward. I caught her in my arms, cradling her gently against my chest.

"Gwen," I whispered, my voice a mix of concern and awe. "Are you alright?"

She looked up at me, her eyes heavy-lidded but clear. A small, tired smile played on her lips. "I'm okay," she murmured. "Just... drained."

Gwen's eyes fluttered closed, her breathing evening out as she drifted into an exhausted sleep. I held her close, feeling the warmth of her body against my stone skin. She looked so small, so vulnerable.

A lie. I had absolute belief in the strength that lay within her.

As I cradled her sleeping form, I felt the weight of my duty settle over my shoulders. But it was different now—no longer a burden of guilt and shame, but a privilege.

A sacred trust.

As it always should have been.

I brushed a strand of hair from her face, my touch as gentle as I could make it. "Rest now, my brave witch," I murmured. "I'll keep you safe."

The cistern looked no different from any other. A little dirty, a little damp. But beyond the walls, I could sense the change in the world. The magic Gwen had unleashed was spreading, reawakening, restoring balance.

I'd failed Cecily. I wouldn't fail Gwen.