Chapter 9

ANA

Ana, still enfolded in Quinn's embrace, heard the distant sounds beyond the barrier of his fleshy wings. Quinn, muscles coiled like a panther, let out a low growl. "There is no imminent danger," he growled, his voice laced with irritation. "An animal on the loose caused the commotion."

He released her, and as she came to her senses, she felt a sudden shift from the warmth of his touch to a chilling emptiness. Confusion gnawed at her. Why had she kissed him? His "caring" nature clashed with her conviction that he'd changed her. And he was attractive—yet not human.

Gnomes scuttled after a feathery creature, their frenzied cries mingling with the panicked squeaks of their quarry. The beast, light on its hooves, tore through the soft earth, leaving deep gashes before diving into the pond, a spray of sapphire feathers fluttering down.

Quinn frowned, then plunged into the water with breathtaking fluidity. He emerged like a sculpted god, liquid cascading down his chest, amplifying his raw magnetism, with the animal in his grasp.

"Sorry, Sire!" A plump gnome, barely taller than the animal he wrestled, approached Quinn. "Escaped the pen."

Another gnome secured the creature with a lasso. It had a bulbous pig-like snout twitching with agitation and beady black eyes.

The gnome led it away, muttering under his breath. "Damn pungs, slippery critters always manage to escape." He tugged the leash. "If you weren't so good at findin' shrooms, you'd be in a stew pot."

"Bad timing. That is all." Quinn ran his hand through his wet hair, and droplets sparkled on his skin.

Ana couldn't look away from Quinn's glistening chest. Her gaze traced each droplet's path until it disappeared into his soaked leather pants. Her mouth went dry. She tore her eyes away and scolded herself. "Get a grip," she muttered under her breath, forcing her eyes away from his captivating form.

"What do you wish to grip?" A smile crept onto Quinn's face as he returned to her. "I'm sure I can accommodate."

Her jaw dropped, and she looked away, feeling the heat in her cheeks.

He placed a hand on her shoulder. "My apologies for startling you. Though I expect no harm to come to you in my kingdom, I was still concerned for your safety." His arm moved down and found its way to her back.

Ana savored his touch. Then, realizing her mistake, she pulled away, her heart racing. "Yes, it scared me." She dared a peek at him, meeting his intense gaze. "I appreciate your concern." She gestured to the path to the castle. "We should probably get back."

"If that is your wish." His voice was like velvet, a deep and smooth melody that carried a touch of yearning.

They walked back to the keep in tense silence. When they reached her room, he leaned in, his eyes fixed on her lips, filling the air with his mouth watering scent. Ana turned her head, denying herself the temptation. He brushed his fingers against her arm, causing goosebumps to rise on her skin. She clenched her thighs to quell the arousal caused by his touch. She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts.

"Thank you for a lovely time," she said, her voice trembling. She entered her room and shut the door behind her, a wave of relief washing over her.

Outside her room, his steps faded down the hallway. A part of her welcomed the reprieve, but another part radiated with disappointment at him leaving. She inwardly cringed at the realization that she wanted the prince to break through the door and take her, her conflicting desires tearing her apart.

She collapsed onto the bed, burying her head in a pillow. Despite her emotions urging her to take him, her rationality prevented her from losing control. Quinn's charm was too strong and being close to him would only result in regret.

A knock sounded at her door. "It's me, Ma'am. May I come in?" Tilda's voice floated through the heavy wooden barrier.

"Yes," Ana replied, grateful for the interruption.

Tilda entered, carrying a potted plant with pink flowers. "I brought you this," she said, placing it on the windowsill. "It will help when you get munted again."

Although the plant's soothing scent filled the room, Ana's stomach churned with knots of unease, and her soul ached with a sense of longing. "Munted?"

"Yes." Tilda compressed her lips for a moment, and her eyes stared into nothingness. "When you have too much ale."

Ana snorted. "Believe me, I don't plan on becoming munted again."

"If you say so." Tilda shrugged. "Anyway, I also came to show you how to play some of our games."

"That would be nice," Ana replied and smiled. The suggestion helped her further escape from her troubles. Relief washed over her like a zephyr on a hot summer day.

With a swift motion, Tilda reached into her skirt pocket, retrieving a handful of cards and dice. The afternoon slipped as they played and laughed. Ana found herself enjoying Tilda's company and the distraction from her worries.

As the sun began to set, Tilda glanced out the window. "Time to take you to dinner."

Ana stroked her queasy stomach. A subtle discomfort lingered, making her cringe at the mere thought of eating. "I'm sorry, but I don't think I can eat. I'm not feeling well." She moved to the bed and sat. "Please, kindly inform the prince and convey my sincerest apologies."

Tilda nodded. "What is the problem, Ma'am?" Tilda hopped onto the mattress, her footsteps light and delicate. "I can bring herbs that will help. Does your head bother you or your gut?" Tilda placed the back of her hand on Ana's forehead. "You don't feel warm."

"It's not that." She clutched her blanket. "It's just…" She hesitated, then blurted out, "How could I trust someone who changed me into a monster?"

"The prince is honest, Ma'am. If he says he didn't, then he didn't change you." She sat next to Ana. "Maybe give him a chance. He would do his best for you. He is not a monster, and neither are you, no matter what happened to you."

Ana looked down at her. "But I'm different now."

"Different, yes," Tilda said, sitting beside her on the bed. "But that doesn't make you bad."

Ana's heart ached. Could she trust Quinn?

"Maybe you're not the only one hurtin'? The prince has lost much, and he carries a heavy burden keepin' the kingdom safe." Tilda looked up at Ana again. "He cares for you … more than cares. He was never this happy before you came."

Ana took a deep breath, then asked, "Can you tell me more about him?"

Tilda smiled. "He blames himself for losing the females. When his mum died, his world fell apart. I never met her, but I hear he is just like her." Tilda sighed. "Unlike his dad, the prince has always been kind to us."

Ana's fang worried her lip, her thoughts swirling in her mind.

"He knows the gargoyles are in a bad spot, and he is shoulderin' a juguai's weight of worries and responsibilities."

The air in the room grew heavy with silence as Ana remained still on the soft bed. She could feel the coolness of the sheets against her skin, and she covered her eyes with her arm, blocking out the dim light that filtered through the curtains. In that moment, shame washed over Ana as she realized her sorrow had consumed her. Her selfishness had disregarded Quinn's pain.

The sting of guilt persisted, yet her longing to return home—to the familiarity of her job, the comforting presence of her cat, and the companionship of her best friend—lingered. Her shattered childhood home harbored the cherished remnants of her parents' existence. It compelled her to sift through the rubble and reclaim her possessions tied to those happy memories.

The thought of facing Quinn again weighed heavily on her, leaving her uncertain if she could ever gather the strength to near him or if she would spend the rest of her days hiding from him. Torn between her curiosity and her regret, her desire and her fear, her hope and her despair, she clenched her fists.

As Tilda stood on the bed, their heights contrasting, she turned to face Ana, enveloping her in a warm hug that she returned. Chest aching, she released the gnome. "Thanks, Tilda."

"If you want the herbs, it will only take me a moment." Tilda jumped off the mattress.

"Thank you, but I'm hoping sleep will help." She laid down.

"I'll pass your regrets to the king and the prince." Tilda crossed the chamber to the door. She reached for the door handle, the slight creak of the hinges filling the room. "I'll see you in the mornin'," Tilda whispered, her voice fading as she stepped out into the hallway.

Ana tossed and turned that night, restless and haunted by her memories. Her mind relived the day's events over and over. The good, the bad, and the really good. The last one made her pulse quicken, and she sizzled.

Quinn had a way of getting under her skin and into her head, making her both annoyed and aroused. Finally, she succumbed to sleep, but the intimacies of their kiss followed her into her dreams.

With soft lips, he caressed her palm. She shivered. She wanted more of him, more of his touch, more of his heat. Wetness built between her legs as he wrapped his arms around her, feeling their hearts beat in sync, a drumbeat of desire.

She lifted her chin and gazed into his eyes, glowing with silver lust. His mouth lingered just above hers. The warmth of his breath enveloped her. She inhaled his intoxicating, spicy scent.

The air crackled with anticipation, a sweet tension that electrified every fiber of her being. He kissed her. Lightly at first, then his tongue teased hers, coaxing it into a dance of passion.

His hands moved with a skilled touch, creating a sensation of pure bliss. Within his arms, she felt complete.

Deepening the kiss, their hunger overflowed into each other. She sighed and leaned against him, her traitorous body responding to each flick of his tongue, and she couldn't help but moan.

Her dream then veered from the memory, forging its own path. With tender care, he placed her on the soft, inviting blanket, their bodies intertwining as she savored the anticipation and the intensity building between them. As their mouths explored each other, he caressed her skin while she ran her hands over his firm, muscular physique.

Quinn gently traced his fingertips along the sensitive area of her inner thigh, causing her to inhale sharply. With a quick motion, he removed her clothes, leaving her exposed and yearning. A whimper escaped her lips, jolting her awake.

The intensity of her desires overwhelmed her. Her body and mind were betraying her, pulling her in conflicting directions.

The morning light offered a fragile hope, a chance to flee the turmoil within. Ana rose, her tail swishing with newfound purpose. She peeked out her door, and the guards beckoned Tilda.

"Good mornin', Ma'am," Tilda greeted, entering the room. "You're up early."

"Morning, Tilda." Ana sighed. "I couldn't sleep well. I had a lot on my mind."

"I understand. It's not easy to adjust to a new world. A new body. A new life."

"Yeah, that's for sure." She sat on her bed. "I want… no, I need to do something useful. Something productive to occupy my mind."

"You don't have to do anythin', Ma'am. You can just relax and enjoy yourself." Tilda put her hands on her hips.

"But I don't want to just relax and enjoy myself. I want to help out. I want to contribute." She sighed. "I need to be active."

"Well, what do you want to do, Ma'am?"

"I want to…" Ana paused, her gaze drifting to the plant, then outside. "I want to garden."

"Gardenin'?" Tilda's eyebrows shot up. "That is hard work. It's dirty work. It is tiring work. Not for someone like you, Ma'am. Someone who will be the kingdom's princess."

She didn't want to be a princess… she wanted to go home. To do that, she needed to gather and analyze information.

"I love gardening, Tilda. I used to do it back home. It was my hobby. My passion. My therapy. It made me happy. It made me calm. It made me feel connected to nature. To life."

Tilda's stern expression softened. "All right, Ma'am. Alright. If you want to garden." She shrugged her shoulders. "I just want you to be happy."

Stepping outside, the unfamiliar land remained unsettling, but Ana found solace in the earthy scent of the soil. Under Tilda's vigilant eye, and with guards nearby keeping a close watch on her, she delved into chores, gaining a newfound fluidity with each chore the use of her new appendages, and each task grounding her anxieties.

Digging deep, she unearthed a stubborn root vegetable with a flick of her tail, the ease surprising even her. It wasn't just strength, but with each use of it, she further developed her dexterity. Her strange appendage moved with an alien grace; a dancer rediscovering forgotten steps. This foreign body held secret potential, and a fire ignited within her to explore its limits.

Laughter erupted as gnomes joined her, their camaraderie a balm to her soul. The day flew by, filled with teamwork and a sense of belonging she hadn't dared wish for. Even Quinn's presence, once unsettling, now held a curious comfort. His gaze, as it lingered on her, wasn't intrusive, but appreciative.

His sculpted physique held a fascination for her trained eye as a physiotherapist. Broad shoulders, powerful legs, and defined core spoke of perfect biomechanics, each movement an ode to efficiency. Every time she saw him raking manure with effortless power, watering plants with fluid grace, or effortlessly tossing hay bales, admiration bloomed in her chest. He possessed more than just strength; he epitomized form and function, a masterpiece crafted by nature for fluidity.

"Ma'am, you're doing great," said Tilda. "Look at you, moving that boulder with your tail like it is nothing."

"Thanks, Tilda. I'm getting the hang of it, I guess. It's amazing what my body can do." Her casual words masked her cataloging of every detail with subtle flitting glances. Guards' positions, exits flanking the castle, winding escape routes - even the tools, potential weapons in a pinch.

The joyous shrieks of gnome children drew Ana's attention. They swarmed Quinn, a giggling avalanche clinging to him.

"Look at the prince, playin' with the little ones. He is such a sweetheart, don't you agree?"

Ana sighed. "Yeah, he is. He's so good with them." Some clung to his legs, their tiny hands gripping onto his leather pants, while others climbed up his torso. One adventurous child, barely a foot tall, was even perched on his head. Their excitement was contagious.

"It seems they think he's a jungle gym." She giggled.

"The children love to play with him. He has a big heart, that one. And a big…" Tilda lowered her voice and winked. "…you know what."

Heat rushed to Ana's cheeks. "Tilda! What are you saying?"

The gnome snorted. "Don't play so innocent. I have seen you watching him, admiring his … assets."

"Well, I-I mean, I-I might have glanced at him once or twice, but I-I didn't pay attention to his…his…" She couldn't admit she had wondered, though, about what was beneath the fabric, more than once.

Quinn laughed as the children tackled him to the ground. A flicker of intrigue persisted. This gargoyle prince, with his unexpected gentleness and playful spirit, proved a captivating enigma. Still, the touching moment battled with her pining for home.

"Mercy!" Quinn's laughter rumbled from beneath the pile.

Intrigue warred with a desire for her familiar life. Her career, her best friend, her beloved cat — each whispered promises of stability, comfort, the warmth of the known. Yet, here, curiosity wrestled with caution, desire with doubt, and hope flickered amidst fear.

Ana couldn't help but wonder, did anyone back in her world even notice she was gone? Was time flowing differently between worlds, leaving her absence unnoticed? The enigmatic Quinn, with his unexpected tenderness and mischievous nature, brought more complexity to her inner struggle.

As their eyes met, a surge of emotion flooded her chest. What was he thinking? The craving to know him better, to touch him, to unlock the secrets hidden beneath the leather pants warred with a lingering dread of the unknown. How could she trust him…not truly knowing him?

Ana's schooling, a double-edged sword, whispered conflicting advice. Analyze, it urged. Observe. Yet its focus had narrowed on Quinn, neglecting the crucial task of finding a way home.

This dilemma left Ana torn between the familiar and cozy atmosphere of her home and the profound emotional connection she was cultivating with Quinn. A storm of emotions rumbled within her soul.