Chapter 5

ANA

Ana plunged under the waterfall with the soap clutched in her hand. The flowing stream cleansed not just her skin but her resolve. Each movement strengthened her purpose, each touch of the water anchoring her to her goal.

The cascade roared, drowning out the storm within, but she couldn't afford to drown in emotions. Kember's words pulsed in her mind: "Appearances don't define your worth."

The peculiar sensation of bathing with her new appendages felt strange. Each one grew more tangible as she cleaned. Tiny hairs still covered her soft dermis, a whisper of her human self.

The pool's pristine water, sparkling with moonlight, created a surreal atmosphere. She traced its rocky edges, the texture mirroring the contrasting turmoil within her—rough and fearful, but with a smooth resilience. She lived, she sensed, she existed. This wasn't a prison. It posed a challenge, and she'd face it head-on.

Home called. The pull of her cat, her friend, and the familiar scent of her room chanted a siren song. No damsels in distress here. She had no intention of waiting for a knight in shining armor.

This was a game of shadows, and information was the key. Each movement strengthened her purpose, each touch of the water anchoring her to her goal. Ana was determined to find her way home, and when she did, she had faith that she would transform back into a human. It was time to trade claws for cunning, fangs for finesse. This metamorphosis was just a detour, not a dead end.

She stepped out, emerging into the open space, then froze. Her clothes lay in tatters, mocking her nakedness. Left with only the thin towel, she dried, then secured it around her, tucked beneath her wings. As she ran her fingers through her hair, Tilda returned to escort her back to the room.

"This way, Ma'am."

Their bare feet slapped upon the cold stone floor, echoing in the cavernous hallway. Not long after stepping out of the alcove, a voice purred behind her, "Now, this is an unexpected pleasure."

She flinched and turned. A gargoyle lounged against the wall, his auburn locks tied back in a knot. His eyes, a fathomless brown, raked over her, lingering on the towel and making her skin prickle with mortification. A slow, devious smile spread across his face, chilling her to the bone.

"Here I was, anticipating an entire moon cycle before encountering your lovely form."

She backed away, the rough stone scraping her bare back. Regret gnawed at her, a bitter pill of wishing for Quinn's familiar presence instead of this predator. The gargoyle, unfazed by her discomfort, sauntered closer.

"Lucky for me to stumble upon you." He looked her up and down. "Neatly wrapped, too," he murmured, stroking his chin with a long, elegant finger. "Like a delectable morsel waiting to be unfurled."

Her throat constricted. The simple act of swallowing proved a monumental task.

Tilda stepped between them, but she didn't look up into his eyes. "I was just bringin' her back to her room. The prince will be comin' back soon."

He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that vibrated through the stone floor. "I shall accompany her." He licked his lips, his gaze dropping to the taut white fabric clinging to her curves.

"No, I'm good. Thanks anyway." She backpedaled and clenched the towel tighter.

"I'm Guignol," he said, closing the gap, his voice smooth and commanding. "You should know my name if we're to be intimate." His finger grazed her cheek, causing her to recoil. She turned her face away from his touch.

The imposing gargoyle flaunted his chiseled physique before her, his muscular form adorned only with a pair of simple leather pants. A noxious stench wafted through the air, a stark contrast to the alluring scent of Quinn. The putrid odor, reminiscent of rotting food, caused her to wrinkle her nose and gag.

If he attempted anything, how was she going to defend herself without exposing her naked body?

Tilda gripped Ana's hand. "Ana needs to get ready."

Yet the male placed a hand on Ana, his touch gentle but still sending an intimidated shiver down her spine. "We don't require your help, gnome." Venom saturated Guignol's words as he spoke to Tilda with cruel authority.

A raspy voice sliced through the air, causing Ana to jump. "Guignol," it rasped, "I notice you're greeting the female."

Guignol's arm dropped like a stone. Ana twisted to find a gargoyle with peppered hair lumbering toward them. His craggy face, etched with wisdom, softened into a gruff smile.

"Dygo," Guignol muttered, taking a nervous step back. Though his shoulders slumped and his chin tucked to his chest, a flicker of defiance shone in his eyes. "Introducing myself, that is all." He turned back to Ana, his voice regaining its charm. "It has been more than a pleasure, but duty calls." He gave Dygo a curt nod and melted back into the shadows.

The older gargoyle chuckled, the sound rumbling like distant thunder. "My apologies for Guignol's over eagerness. Enthusiasm tends to get the better of him sometimes. I shall have a word with him later."

"Are others going to try to pull that same shit?" Ana stepped away, her hands trembling.

"I shall ensure that doesn't happen again," he rumbled. "I'm Dygo. The king's royal gothi." He smiled. "If there's anything you need, don't hesitate to ask." He glanced at Ana's towel. "I see you're in the middle of something, so I shall not hold you up." Dygo waved a dismissive hand. "Delightful to meet you." He bowed, then departed.

"It was nice to meet you, as well." Ana's heart hammered against her ribs as she scurried after Tilda back to Ana's chambers. Every creak of the castle sounded like pursuing claws.

The encounter with the gargoyles had left a pit of unease in her stomach. Reaching the room, Tilda threw open the door. Ana slammed it closed behind them. Lavender, sharp and sweet, flooded her senses upon entering, pulling the tension from her muscles like a warm tide.

"It may not be my business, Ma'am, but you should stay away from him. He is not of a good heart," said Tilda.

"Thank you. I'll try," she said, shuddering. Guignol undeniably creeped her out. She plopped onto the bed and then adjusted her wings beneath her.

"Dygo is their Gothi." Tilda grabbed a package from the nightstand. "And Guignol is the king's advisor."

"What's a Gothi?" She raised an eyebrow.

"He is said to commune with their goddess, Fionnlaith. He also settles any disputes." Tilda hesitated, pursed her lips, and continued, "It is a title of great honor for the gargoyles."

Not long after, a knock sounded at the door. The gnome answered it, accepting a bundle from the tailor with her thanks.

"Your clothes, Ma'am." Tilda handed it to Ana then pulled out the stool from under the bed. "I can help you dress."

"No, thank you." Ana shook her head. "I'll handle it myself." She withdrew a grey dress from its wrappings.

"That is fine," said Tilda. "I'll wait outside."

Ana's clumsy fingers fumbled with the fastenings and her new appendages. Frustration bubbled up, and for a moment, the gnome's offer of assistance hung in the air, unspoken. Then, with a sigh, and shame burning hot on her cheeks, she called out, "Tilda, please help!"

The gnome rejoined her. With deft fingers, the wee female adjusted and secured the garment—buttons and ties along an opening designed to accommodate Ana's wing. And deep within, a whisper of self-loathing stirred—a hatred for the freakishness that now defined her. Ana clenched her jaw, determined to find her place in this strange existence, even if it meant battling her own reflection.

Not long after dressing, another knock reached her ears, accompanied by a familiar fragrance that wafted into the room. The aroma was intoxicating and irresistible, instantly recognizable. It stirred a warmth deep within Ana's lower stomach. Quinn's scent enveloped her like a potent drug, making her crave his presence. She almost rolled her eyes at herself. Ana grappled with her emotions as Tilda opened the door.

Ana's mouth dropped, and she hurriedly wiped it in case drool slipped out. Quinn stood poised there, looking as mouthwatering as ever. His height and broad, muscular chest overwhelmed her. Despite having seen him partially unclothed before, his presence had an unforeseen and disconcerting impact on her.

Silver flashed in his blue eyes as he scanned Ana, his gaze lingering on her curves like an artist appreciating a work of art. Heat flared in her veins, a blush blooming across her cheeks.

He stepped close. "You exude radiance," he murmured, his husky voice sending shivers down her spine. He leaned in, his breath a cool caress against her neck that exploded into a wildfire in her loins. His lips brushed her cheek, causing her toes to curl and a spark to arc between them. "I believe greetings among humans often involve such … intimacies."

Ana's mind reeled. Her tongue stumbled in her mouth. "Thank you," she finally managed, the words tumbling out like pebbles on a cobbled street. "You … you look… imposing, I mean, handsome, too."

He chuckled, a deep rumble that vibrated through her. "My father has requested your presence for dinner tonight," he said, a hint of warning in his voice. "Prepare yourself, for the hall shall be alive with my kind who hasn't seen a female in some time."

Ana's stomach clenched. Meeting the king posed a tremendous concern, and dining amidst a menagerie of monsters, another. The image of Guignol, leering and predatory, sent a shiver down her spine. "I … I'm not comfortable with that," she stammered, her words barely above a whisper.

Quinn's smile faltered. "I'm afraid it is more of a command from the king." He gripped her hand, his touch tender. "Have no fear; I shall be at your side the entire time." He turned to Tilda, who stood patiently nearby. "Thank you, my friend. Shall you be joining us for dinner?"

Tilda shook her head. "Thank you, but I have other plans." Tilda offered a quick nod. "I'll see you later, Ma'am."

Flickering torchlight painted grotesque shadows on the rough-hewn walls as Ana followed Quinn, her bare feet sending shivers dancing up her spine with each stride on the unforgiving rock floor. She wrapped her arms tighter around herself, seeking comfort.

"Why has the king summoned me?" she whispered, her voice barely above the echo of her pounding heart.

Quinn's gaze moved to her legs and up her body. "You're the first female we've seen in these many moons." He reached for her hand, but she pulled it away. Compared to the unknown horrors that lurked beyond the castle walls, he was a devil she knew. Yet, was he a lesser evil or merely a viper waiting to strike again?

The doubt gnawed at her, a chilling counterpoint to the desperate need for comfort in the face of her monstrous existence. Though she was attracted to him, his role in her metamorphosis hung heavy in the air, a suffocating weight that tainted every moment by his side.

With each corner turned, her tail flicked beyond her control, not in anger but in nervous anticipation. She slowed her pace, worrying her lip.

"What happened to the other females?" The question, which held direct relevance to her current predicament, gnawed at her.

The prince's shoulders dropped, and he sighed. "Juguais…" his voice trailed off, filled with a mix of frustration and sorrow. "They abducted them. The monstrous beasts have an affinity for gargoyle flesh, especially female." He halted and faced her. "About eight moons ago, when our homes were once on ground level, we routinely clashed with the centaurs over territorial boundaries. The king decided a show of power was the best way to stop the dispute."

He sighed. "He left a few guards to protect the kingdom and the other gargoyle hamlets, but it wasn't enough. As a result, juguais took advantage of our absence and swarmed the villages. They killed the guardians and abducted the females and younglings." He hung his head. "We failed them. We should have been there to defend them, but we were not."

Heaviness settled in her chest, her heart plummeting to the pit of her stomach. It had been just eight months since the incident occurred, assuming time passed similarly in this place. As she reached out to comfort him, her hand trembled slightly.

The instant their skin met, a current jolted through her, igniting a dangerous desire that simmered beneath the surface. His gaze met hers, now ablaze with longing and passion, his eyes shimmering like molten silver. Startled, she quickly withdrew her hand.

A flicker of disappointment crossed his face, a fleeting shadow that deepened the lines around his eyes. He continued, "The attack coordination seemed beyond their tactical abilities and not anything expected." He ran a hand over his face, his frustration evident. "After searching for our missing for some time, the king gave up and eventually declared them dead." Sadness flared in his eyes as he closed them and took a deep breath. "We relocated to the safety of the mountains, seeking refuge from the horrors lurking below. Some villagers chose to fortify their homes and stay behind, determined to protect what was left." He placed a hand on his hip. "The king commanded a juguai hunt. Many less now live, but they still pose a threat."

Her heart ached, a heavy weight pressing against her chest, and her hand itched with the urge to reach out and comfort him, but she held back. Asking those questions appeared to cause him pain, but she needed to know more.

"Why do—?" she began, but a booming laugh that echoed through the hallway swallowed her question. Hopefully, that wasn't their destination. A gnome, his stare fixed on the ground, scurried past.

The corridor hummed with muffled voices, causing her to wring her hands. This time, she allowed Quinn to grip one, offering some comfort.

Then, a delectable aroma wafted out of a chamber ahead, a savory symphony of roasted vegetables and mouthwatering meats that made her stomach rumble. Each note remarkably distinct and powerful, and she recalled Quinn mentioning her enhanced senses. She dropped her arms, suddenly aware of how ravenous she'd become.

Following Quinn through a grand entrance, Ana's breath caught in her throat. The vast hall stretched before her, a cavernous space lit by torches on the wall and candle-lit chandeliers suspended twenty-feet above.

In the center, a massive fire pit roared, smoke billowing through a hole in the roof, where clouds drifted across the dark sky. Rich wooden tables laden with food flooded the area, and colorful wool rugs softened the starkness of the rock floor.

Twisting a lock of hair between her fingers, Ana tried to quell the nervous flutter in her stomach.

The low hum of conversation that greeted her arrival faltered, replaced by a charged silence thicker than the smoke curling from the torches. Gargoyles filled the chamber, some sitting, others standing, but all wearing belts with swords on their hips. Their gazes lingered on Ana like insects buzzing at the edge of a spiderweb.

These creatures exuded a simultaneous allure and danger, their claws, wings, and fangs adding to their mystique. She shivered with both fear and fascination. As she glanced around, it became obvious that none of them, outside of their wings, had any grayish coloring; instead, they were a vibrant palette of human shades.

Every standing gargoyle wore leather pants. She didn't look under the table to check the sitting ones out, but it tempted her. For all she knew, they wore kilts, but that was a mystery she didn't dare try to solve.

Then again, maybe she should peek. She didn't know what they looked like down there. Did they have an appendage like a human male? She dismissed that idea, not wanting to know.

At the far end of the room, gnomes ran in and out of a grand entryway. The silver trays they carried were full to the brim, presenting the guests with a selection of delicious-looking meats, cheeses, and vegetables.

The savory aroma wafted through the air, making Ana's stomach growl, despite her growing anxiety, in eager anticipation of the feast. Other gnomes scuttled around, pouring drinks, their footsteps creating a soft patter on the stone floor. Just like Tilda, they sported eye-catching shorts and skirts that complemented their hats.

Ana frowned at the heads of unfortunate creatures mounted on the walls, their vacant eyes adding to the chamber's macabre decor. At the other end, a balcony offered a breathtaking view of mountains and forests, a stark contrast to the stifling atmosphere within.

"Ah hah!" Suddenly, a boisterous voice echoed through the chamber, causing Ana to stiffen. The room shook as he spoke, and a wave of unease washed over her.

"Finally, the female." A grey-haired gargoyle, with hungry eyes, sat upon a throne. With a simple wave of its hand, he beckoned them forward. "Escort her closer."

She remained frozen. This felt more like the lair of a beast instead of a dinner hall, and she, an innocent fly, had entered its web.