by K. F. Breene
My face flamed. “Sorry again, but you’re a really good cook. I am never, at my best, close to that good. Mr. Tom isn’t either. It caught me by surprise. Did I scare Kingsley away?”
“No.” His voice was gruff. “He’s checking on the barbecue. You are so incredibly sexy, Jacinta, when you let yourself go like that. So incredibly sexy.”
My body burned to match the heat in his eyes, and in that moment, all the months and months of push and pull between us fell away.
“Kiss me, Austin,” I whispered.
He moved around the corner of the island as if in slow motion, then leaned down and touched his lips to mine. His tongue brushed against my lips, and I opened my mouth, quickly filled with his taste. His kiss was languid, as if he was in no hurry, but he pulled away too soon.
“Would you like to move outside?” he asked, his eyes soft. “I need to barbecue.”
“Sure.”
He put out a hand to help me up, and I moved beside him as if on a cloud.
“We should’ve started earlier in the afternoon so we could’ve enjoyed the view.” He led me to the sliding glass door at the side of the kitchen and stepped out onto a large deck.
“Weren’t you busy earlier?”
He closed the door behind me and pulled a couple of chairs from the edge of the deck toward the barbecue. Kingsley finished spreading out the coals, then put the grate back on the grill and sat.
“Oops, forgot the steaks.” Austin brushed his fingers across my cheek before heading back into the house.
I gasped when I saw the ground beyond the deck, sloping downward before the tree line. The last shards of light fell across small blue flowers speckled with buttercups, swaying softly in the breeze, just like in the meadow we’d overlooked on our first date.
These were the flowers he’d referred to earlier, when he picked me up. They weren’t native to this mountainside, as this small area was the only one covered in them. I knew without asking that he’d put them here to remind me of that perfect outing. He was so dang romantic that it almost hurt my heart.
I stood in silence for a moment, my mind a little dizzied again, my body humming, desperate to be touched. My heart beat harder but not faster, and I put my hand to my chest, not sure if I should be alarmed. Wanting to go after Austin. Wanting him to come back out here.
Wanting to know what was happening to me, and wanting it to keep happening.
Twenty-Six
Kingsley watched Jess’s face go through a gamut of emotions, ending on confusion. She’d already entered the mating slide. The effect was plainer than in any shifter he’d ever known, and not because she relayed everything she felt on her face. He’d bet female gargoyles mated explosively, territorially. Permanently. She’d be a handful when the mating link settled. Volatile and extremely dangerous. Austin would be in for a wild ride.
One thing was clear: Jess had absolutely no idea what was happening. She was the driver of the mating bond, she was choosing the speed (and wasting no time), but she didn’t realize it.
Given she still thought like a Jane, Kingsley couldn’t fault Austin for not explaining any of this to her. She’d probably spook and go running. She was fighting the bond even now, which meant she had a stubborn streak a mile wide.
“How much do you know about gargoyles?” Kingsley asked her.
“Some.”
“Are they territorial?”
She thought about it, those thoughts sitting on her face and in her body movements for all to see. Thankfully, mages couldn’t read people any better than she could, or the upcoming meeting with the mage probably wouldn’t go well.
“I’ve only seen them in my territory, so I don’t know,” she finally answered.
“You’re not territorial over your…property?” But he already knew the answer.
“No,” she said. “I mean, I don’t like Peeping Toms, obviously, but I don’t really think of it as my territory. It’s Ivy House’s territory. She handles most things.”
He sat and then leaned back and crossed an ankle over his knee. Austin stepped out with three potatoes wrapped in foil, placed them on the grill, and closed the lid. A glance at Kingsley let him know to get lost. It was interrogation time, and Austin would just get in the way.
The warning in Austin’s posture was clear. Take it easy on her. Don’t hurt her. He winked at Jess before ducking back into the house.
“Thanks for the flow—” The door closed before she could get all the words out. “I feel like I should be helping,” she murmured.
“He’s cooking for you. Let him.”
A thoughtful expression stole over her face. Her eyes wandered; she was probably calling up memories of what Kingsley had said earlier about shifters cooking for their women. She crossed her legs, her discomfort incredibly plain, the reasons equally so.
His wife, Earnessa, should be having this talk with Jess, not him. It was borderline unacceptable for a male to talk this through with a female, at least when the female was this expressive, not to mention she’d been claimed by the strongest alpha in the world (or near enough).
Into the silence, he asked, “Are gargoyles protective of their females?”
She bit her lip. “The guys aren’t protective of their…of the women they meet in the bar. But I doubt that counts.”
“No, that doesn’t count.”
“Then I don’t know.”
“You?”
She shrugged. “I don’t think so. I’ve only been on a couple of dates since inheriting the magic.”
“So you know very little about gargoyle culture.”
“It certainly seems like it.”
Kingsley lazily swirled the wine in his glass, watching it in the glow of the deck light, the darkness having finally swallowed the last rays of the sun. “Shifters are territorial.”
“That’s pretty obvious.”
“Not just of property. In love, we are territorial of our partners, females as well as males.”
She sipped her wine, then said, “I’ve realized that.”
“Austin is an alpha, and that means his reactions are stronger in comparison to other shifters. You’ve seen what happens. It can get worse, if the offense is worse. It’s not his past that drives it. It’s his emotion fueling his animal, do you understand? It’s a primal reaction.”
“I understand what you’re saying, but I don’t necessarily understand what you’re driving at.”
“His intense reaction to someone touching you, or inappropriately flirting with you, will never go away. In possibly the very near future, it might get infinitely worse, at least for a time.” Until the mating bond was firmly established.
“Define ‘inappropriately flirting.’”
“If they’re too close, too aggressive in their flirting, we’ll say, and it’s making you uncomfortable. I’ve seen shifters flirt with you in a friendly way, and that doesn’t concern him. He has more control than he’ll ever give himself credit for. But the second you get uncomfortable, for any reason, it’ll flip his switch, do you get me?”
“Yes. Why are you telling me all this?”
“Because if you can’t handle that side of him, you need to leave now. Or maybe after dinner, because I agree, he is one helluva cook. But if you can’t handle that side of him, then you should not stay the night.”
Nervousness filled her expression this time. She shifted uncomfortably, squeezing her crossed legs, and Kingsley looked away.
“He has to ask me to stay over first…” she said quietly, and it dragged his gaze back.
She was such a riddle, this woman. Very intelligent, fast on her feet, but wow, did the obvious just fly right past her sometimes. That was probably the only way she could stay in that deathtrap of a house with those intensely weird caretakers.
Determination infused her bearing. “I can handle that side of him. News flash: women don’t like inappropriate flirting. Using him as a scapegoat will be good stuff.”
“You took down a thunde
rbird. You don’t need a scapegoat.”
“I mean, sure, I could handle it myself, but a lot of guys who get turned down, even respectfully, fly off the handle. They make a scene. It’s nicer to just avoid it.”
Kingsley was glad he didn’t have to hide his look of utter bewilderment and disgust. “Does that go on in the Jane and Dick world?”
“Doesn’t it go on here?”
He shook his head in disbelief, the situation with Kace making a lot more sense. “Listen, if someone makes you uncomfortable in the magical world, you tell them to piss off. If they don’t, you make them, or you’ll look weak. Don’t wait for Austin next time. Do it yourself.”
“I would’ve felt bad telling Kace to piss off. He was being respectful about the whole thing.”
“Did you feel bad when Austin ripped Kace out of his chair and made him submit in front of the whole bar?”
A grimace creased her face. “Yes? I honestly hardly remember. I just remember this weird need to clutch on to Austin’s back like a mountain climber afraid of falling off. Which is embarrassing to admit, but…”
Oh yeah, she was definitely in the mating slide. That was behavior similar to a powerful female shifter entering the mating bond. Earnessa had once nearly killed a female who’d rubbed Kingsley’s shoulder. He’d never been so turned on in his life, watching his girlfriend at the time defend her claim on him. Jess had only just started the slide. For her to act like this already…
“Man, I wish I lived around here,” he said, then sipped his wine. “You are going to be fireworks when things start rolling. I’d ask your gargoyle buddies about being territorial, if I were you. If gargoyles are more territorial over their mates than shifters are, and some lady drapes herself over Austin, you will burn this town to the ground.”
Twenty-Seven
I sat at the island, stuffed and happy, watching Austin bent over a handmade crème brûlée with a cooking blowtorch, finishing up the crust on top. I was content in a way I’d never been, utterly peaceful. Full, fulfilled, relaxed…
Except one idea kept circling through my mind.
Mate.
Cold shivers worked through me as I watched Austin’s bicep pop when he leaned down to finish the last crème brûlée.
Female gargoyles mated. I’d heard that in the beginning of this magical journey. They banged everyone in sight and then settled on one mate. Permanently. I wasn’t a total fool—I knew what Kingsley had been telling me.
Austin glanced over at me, lifting the blowtorch a little. I muted the link between us so he couldn’t feel my mild freak-out.
It suddenly felt like my life was hurtling forward at a million miles an hour. I’d done the blood oath with Ivy House, signing on for life, which played hell on my nerves when I really let myself think about it. I’d launched into this new life less than a year ago, and here I was making life decisions again. Only this one was permanent.
And now…
“With shifters, when you mate…that’s like marriage, right?” I asked.
Austin looked back at Kingsley, as if tapping him to answer, before bending over the last dessert again.
“No,” Kingsley answered, tracing the stem of his wine glass with his fingers. “Marriage is a legal contract establishing joint assets. Mating is a physical bond between two people. A chemical bond, I guess, that forges within the hearts of shifters.” He touched the center of his chest.
“And you establish it with a ritual?” I asked. “A ritual around food?”
“No. There is a ritual, but it’s mostly a celebration. When the bond is locking into place, it is at its most intense. The shifters involved become unfit for society, to put it mildly. They become much too possessive. They’ll violently defend their mate over the smallest of grievances. So we have a celebration when the shifters are entering this final phase, and then we send them into the woods on their own. They get to celebrate their bond, reveling in each other, and everyone else gets some peace.”
“So then, how do you…establish a bond? Magic? A spell?”
“I’ve never had to explain this to an outsider,” Kingsley told Austin. “It’s surprisingly difficult.” He poured himself more wine and took a deep breath. “First, you don’t choose a mate. Not the kind of mate we’re talking about. Shifters can get married without ever experiencing the mating bond. Or you can start dating someone, and bam, you slip into the mating bond and forever knocks on your door before you really even know the person. Usually, though, it’s somewhere in the middle. You meet someone, you get to know them, and you gradually slip into this long slide of mating. It’s basically falling in love.”
“It is falling in love,” Austin said, delivering the white porcelain dish in front of me, the sugary top browned to perfection. He laid down a cloth napkin and placed a spoon on top. “Sometimes you fall in love gradually, and sometimes all at once. The mating bond happens when two souls unite, and there can be no other.”
“But you choose who you fall in love with,” I said, cracking into the surface of the crème brûlée. I loved that sound.
“Do you?” Kingsley asked, picking up his newly delivered spoon.
“Well, you choose to date them, then like them, and then it grows from there.”
“Which is usually how mating works. For shifters, at any rate. I have no idea what it’s like for gargoyles.”
I told them what little I knew from Mr. Tom.
“Probably a very similar setup to shifters.” Kingsley scooped up some of his dessert. “But you don’t choose. You don’t will the bond to come. It’s a natural process your animal mostly decides. It happens or it doesn’t. You feel it, and give in to it, or you don’t.”
“What if you don’t give in to it?” I asked, then slid a spoon of custard into my mouth. As with everything Austin had made, the flavors exploded on my tongue. I moaned and put my hand on his arm. When we’d moved inside so he could finish preparing dessert, I’d claimed the middle seat so I could sit next to him.
“Damn, brother, I might have to start moaning too.” Kingsley scooped up more custard. “This is good.” He swallowed before he continued. “Sometimes you do get a bullheaded shifter, usually female—”
Austin laughed. “He just says that because he was the one who tried to dig in his heels.”
“If she digs in her heels,” Kingsley went on with a smile, “then it might never happen. But I’ve never heard of anyone strong enough to resist forever. Still, nothing can force one person to stay with another. If two people are bonded and one of them leaves, they’ll feel each other, always, but some people don’t want the settled life. They prefer to stay solo.”
I stopped with the spoon nearly to my mouth and looked at Austin. “Is that what happened with you and Destiny? You told me you thought she’d be your mate.”
“I thought it would happen between us, yes”—his lush lips closed over the spoon, and I couldn’t help but watch—“but now I realize it was never going to happen.”
“How do you know?” I asked.
He shrugged, daintily loading the end of his spoon. A big, strong man, still in his apron, dainty with his dessert. It stoked my desire to impossible levels.
“Because I’m older now,” he said. “Wiser. If I found my mate, I would never leave her. I would always protect her. Nothing would tear me away from her.”
The pressure on my chest made it hard to breathe. Hard to even think. His cobalt eyes burned with fire and determination, and my heart and core had started to throb in tandem.
“The good news, for those that are a lee-tle wary about commitment, is that it usually doesn't happen all at once. It is a slide,” Kingsley said, tilting his dish and scraping it clean with his spoon. “You’ll feel it happening, and everything might seem a little topsy-turvy, but you’ll have time to get used to it. As someone who got used to it very slowly, I know this is true.”
I finished off my crème brûlée and immediately looked over at Austin’s to see if I could steal a lit
tle more. Finding half a dish, I smiled and leaned over with my spoon out.
“Are you going to eat all of that?” I asked.
“Take whatever you want, milady,” he answered softly.
Smiling, I tried to take a dainty spoonful, but I scooped up more than I’d planned and couldn’t find it in me to feel guilty. It was simply that good.
“Before you ask,” Kingsley said, standing with his dish and walking around to the sink, “I don’t know if there is one special mate for everyone, decided by Fate, or a few for everyone and you just go with the first one you find.”
“I’d like to think there’s only one.” Austin’s deep voice rumbled, and shivers skated down my body. “I’d like to think Fate plays a hand in bringing us to our perfect mate, even if the road to finding her is long and lonely.”
The moment reduced down to him and me, and I felt the power of it beating in my chest. The need to clutch on to him and never let go.
I wondered if the situation was the same for female gargoyles. Was there one possible mate or more?
Was this slide Kingsley had described what was happening to me?
“You never got a look at the upstairs.” Austin led me away from the kitchen and Kingsley, who was doing dishes. “Would you like to? Or maybe we can sit out on the deck with a glass of wine. Of course, I can take you home if you’d prefer.”
I slipped my arm around his middle, sighing when he pulled me into his arms. “You have a deck upstairs, don’t you? I thought I saw a wraparound one up there.”
“I do, yes. Would you like to sit up there?”
“Yes, please.”
Austin nodded and opened a fresh bottle of wine. Apparently Kingsley would be drinking the rest of the other one. Grabbing two glasses, Austin guided me upstairs.
“There is a second living room up here, for overflow or if people want to get away from each other. Then a few guestrooms.” Austin stopped next to the living room, similar to the one downstairs but without a fireplace.