These meetings in the library were the only thing that had kept me sane in this prison of stone through the last decade. Alek was my light. My hope. I still remembered the day I’d first met him, and it made me smile.
He pressed his lips together just slightly before speaking. “What are you thinking about?” His gaze bore into me, steady and strong, piercing straight through to my heart.
“The day I met you.” I kept my tone soft, doing my best to hide the desire I knew would stream out of me like an overflowing bath if ever given the chance. “I remember wondering why people thought you were scary.”
His eyes widened again. “You didn’t find me frightening?” His mouth remained flat, but his dark brown eyes sparkled with amusement.
My destiny had been chosen for me the day I was born. I wanted to tell him how much I hated it. How much more I wanted. I wanted to throw myself into his arms and tell him about my vision of us together. The perfect picture of the future that appeared to me every time I touched him.
“Never.” I shook my head. “You were big and gruff, but you were kind. You took the time to answer the questions of a child who sought the truth. And you kept answering my questions. You keep teaching me, even now.” I looked down to the carpet and breathed away the dampness in my eyes. I pressed my lips together and fought for control of my emotions. He made it look so easy, but it wasn’t for me. My emotions leaked like sieve from inside to outside where everyone could see everything.
I’d forsaken all for the man who’d stolen my heart, and he didn’t even know it. He had me. My whole heart. My mind. My everything would be his if only he…asked.
He cared for me. I knew he did.
I could feel it every time we spoke. Every time we touched. It could be so much more.
Everyone in the town watched out for me and the other Sisters of Lamidae. They protected us. Died for us. We were the chosen ones, the seers who needed to be shielded from everyone and everything. But Alek cared more. He had to. He spent so many hours with me—reading, talking, discussing things about his world I would never see. Because I would never be free from this castle.
“I’m glad our time together has been good. Reading with you is very… rewarding.”
His words jarred me from my thoughts. Rewarding? I wanted to scream that I loved him. Wanted to ask him how he could just sit by and let me battle Rose and the Sisters and everything around me. I wanted to ask him about that pause in his response, too. Had I missed something? Had he shown me affection in a way I’d missed?
But I didn’t ask. I let it go.
The Sisters of Lamidae could see the future, and that was dangerous because people would use us to further their agendas—specifically Xerxes, Rose’s brother-in-law, the only other Lamassu alive. He’d murdered his own brother and made it his mission in life to steal the Sisters from Rose. On and on the warnings rattled from the older Sisters. From Rose herself. We were too valuable to be allowed any rights, any freedom.
Our only destiny.
Have babies.
Build the numbers to strengthen the magick.
More magick meant better visions.
Better visions meant the prophecy would be fulfilled sooner and everyone would be safe from Xerxes foul intentions.
Fuck that.
We’d been on a mission to find the eight Protectors for thousands of years and still hadn’t succeeded. Not that I could ever say any of that out loud. Everyone expected us to stay in line. Follow the rules. Fulfill our destiny.
It just wasn’t working for me.
“You’re going to catch a chill. Why aren’t you wearing a cloak?” His tone was matter-of-fact, not even the slightest bit suspicious or interested in why I’d worn a dress that showed ample cleavage or why I’d purposefully bared most of my legs.
I spread the skirt of my dress over my legs to cover them.
He took the book from my hands and met my gaze with his beautiful brown eyes. I loved the way flecks of gold danced in them when he was irritated. It was probably part of the reason I continually tried to rile him for one reason or another. Just to see the glint of the Gryphon within. The whole shifting animal sharing a soul thing was pretty damned interesting. I’d never seen him shift before, but asking him at some point had crossed my mind.
I kept my voice light and fun, and I returned his invasive stare with a bright smile. “You’re my personal heater. The last thing I need when I’m with you is a cloak.” I couldn’t help the laugh that rose inside me. I loved that he called a sweater or cover-up a cloak, so old-fashioned. I’d never seen anyone in Sanctuary wear an actual cloak, but I didn’t get out much. Alek said people rarely wore them anymore.
Cloaks were from the old books we read, old stories of times so different from what existed now. At least that’s what he told me. I had to take his word for it, having never set foot outside the castle walls.
Alek shook his head ever so slightly, amused again, but still no show of emotion.
I didn’t get him to smile or laugh often, but it was worth it to try. His laugh made my insides melt and my stomach do a somersault. And his smile...Damn. There wasn’t another man in town with a smile as perfect as Alek’s. A smile that filled the void in my soul.
He opened the book and began reading the opening to Shakespeare’s Antony and Cleopatra. His accent morphed after the first few lines. Listening to him read Shakespeare was heaven. The lilt of his voice as he read the words from the page was enchanting. Like a vision, it carried me away into the story, blocking out all reality. Blocking out the situation I had facing me again tonight.
Suitors.
Men came to the castle every weekend. Men approved and vetted and offering themselves to the Sisters of Lamidae in exchange for a night of mutual pleasure—called joinings. A night they would not remember after they left. It was all part of the contract.
They knew their memories would be wiped, and yet they still agreed. We were an experience they couldn’t get anywhere else. A lot of the men came back multiple times, and the same Sister would take him to her bed week after week, month after month—a twisted way of pretending they had a relationship with their sperm donor.
Even though the men didn’t remember.
We did.
It may have been a one-sided relationship, but it worked for many. Some Sisters didn’t care and chose a new bed partner each time they were ready to conceive again. We were asked to have at least two children during our lifespan, but many Sisters found refuge in having many children—at least the ones who could manage it. It filled their days with happiness and laughter to have baby after baby.
While others viewed it as I did—cursing a new generation into exile and a lonely existence. And then there were those who were never able to conceive. Through the years, more and more of the Sisters were plagued by infertility—or the men they chose were the culprits. No one really knew for sure.
Choosing a man to lie with over and over again until we had our minimum of two children was required. One might say it was ingrained in us by something so powerful that it consumed our every thought. We didn’t just need to have children. We would lose our minds if we didn’t. Several Sisters, who were never able to conceive, fell into a deep depression, ultimately taking their lives. A fine display of magick gone terribly wrong.
There always had to be a new generation of Sisters. Our power would deplete if our numbers got too low. They were too low right now.
It was our destiny. My destiny. One that I refused to accept, regardless of the burning agony deep in my gut that demanded I conceive.
But the child I wanted…the relationship I wanted…was a dream I’d never be allowed to make reality. Playing in the dungeon of the castle was permitted with the supernatural citizens of Sanctuary as long as no penetration was involved. Many of my Sisters enjoyed a little kink—or a lot, especially the ones who were hopelessly childless. Their fascination for play was just a way to distract them from the pain and depression that haunted the
m every month when their cycle started yet again—reminding them of their barrenness.
But playing was a pastime, not a path to children. We weren’t allowed to have children with a supernatural. It was genetically impossible.
Or so Rose said.
It made logical sense in a way. Most supernatural species could only have children with their species. Though there were a few that could cross the genetic barrier—Lamassu being one—it was not common. At least from what I’d overheard through the years.
I leaned my cheek against Alek’s strong arm. The rise and fall in his voice carried my imagination into the lyrical lines of Shakespeare. Everything fell away. All the worry and concern about tonight. None of it mattered. I wouldn’t be forced to choose a suitor. Not today, perhaps not for many more months. I was only twenty-six, still plenty of childbearing years ahead of me, but the time was coming. I knew I wouldn’t be able to avoid making a choice much longer.
A fight I would eventually lose. Depression gripped my soul, and I turned my focus back to the beautiful drama Alek was performing for me. I should be enjoying the moment, not dreading the coming night.
He reached the end of the first act and closed the book.
“I know this is just a story, but have you known anyone who loved the way Shakespeare describes?” I gazed up at him, and he rewarded me with a quick nod. No smile, though. Gods, I wanted a smile. Please. It’d been over a week since I’d coaxed one out of him.
“Miles, Eli, and Diana love with the same fierceness Shakespeare attributes to Antony and Cleopatra. Erick and Bailey. Killían and Eira. Charlie and her two mates, Travis and Garrett. There are many who I’ve met through the millennia who love and have loved in the way the great storyteller describes.”
“Have you?” I asked bravely, wanting desperately to know. A part of me needed to know if he pined for a lost love or if the man was truly oblivious to every signal I’d attempted to hurl in his direction.
“No.”
That’s it? That’s all he was giving me, a flat single-syllabled no? Not that I wasn’t selfishly glad. I wanted his love for myself. I didn’t want to compete with some ethereal memory of a woman who’d left him or died. “So you still have that to look forward to,” I whispered without thinking.
The second the words had tumbled from my lips, terror tightened my lungs and I waited for a response that said I’d gone too far or crossed a line I shouldn’t have.
He handed the book to me, then tilted his head, and kissed the top of mine. His lips were so soft and caring, perfection-embodied, but I didn’t want the you’re-a-sweet-child-who-I-like-to-tell-stories-to kiss. I wanted the kiss to be on my lips, and I wanted it to say you’re-mine-and-I-can’t-imagine-living-another-day-on-earth-without-you.
Alek was that for me already.
“I should go. The castle begins its rumbling for the start of the weekend’s festivities.” His tone had taken on the caretaker vibe, the one that dismissed me from his presence. But I wasn’t ready to leave. Not yet. And I didn’t give a flying fairy’s ass about the so-called festivities tonight.
“We have plenty of time. I don’t have to go.” I circled my arm around his and snuggled closer to his side, reveling in the heat and hardness of his body. Thoughts of running my hand along his chest to feel the strength beneath the soft jersey t-shirt he wore flickered across the stage of my imagination, along with the vision of our bodies, naked and entwined on a bed.
I wanted more from the life I’d been born into. And one day I was going to get it. Happiness waited for me each time I touched him. Eight seconds of bliss. Eight seconds of Alek and me lying in a bed together, smiling and laughing and in love. In the vision, he would kiss my stomach and whisper endearments to the child I was carrying. Our child.
We would have a child. That’s why I didn’t fear the sadness and depression that typically found the childless Sisters.
I would have a child. His child.
He was my beast—my Gryphon warrior.
He had always been mine. And I would be his.
Chapter 2
ALEK
“I don’t want to get you in trouble with the Oracle or your other sisters.” I cupped Gretchen’s face and stroked her porcelain white cheek with my thumb. Beautiful. Hair like a raven’s wing and bright blue eyes that would make a sapphire jealous. I dropped my hand and pulled it away. The emotions warring in my mind would only confuse the situation.
And right now what I had with Gretchen worked. I didn’t want to jeopardize the relationship we’d cultivated by making her uncomfortable in my presence. It wasn’t like I could act on my attraction, either.
It wasn’t allowed.
“You won’t get me in trouble. We have plenty of time,” Gretchen answered, squeezing my arm even tighter. “Keep reading.” She pushed the book back into my hands.
Such a stubborn young woman, always stretching the rules—or breaking them. I hated breaking the rules. Spending as much time with Gretchen as I did could be construed wrongly, but I’d returned to the Blackmoor’s library nearly every day for the past fifteen years. Nothing short of being on a mission outside of the town had kept me from finding refuge in a peaceful few hours in Gretchen’s company. Her bright blue eyes—so full of curiosity, a young mind eager to learn, full of joy and laughter. Her presence was like a bright flame in the dark cave of my self-imposed solitude, spreading warmth and light wherever she went. Warmth and light that I needed. Craved.
Besides my brother-in-arms, Jared, she was the only other person I considered a true friend in this town.
I opened the book again and started into act two. She deserved to be happy. If I could give her pleasure with a simple story, who was I to deny her joy?
Her heartbeat ebbed and flowed with the tension in the story, like the tide of the sea, pushing and pulling until the beach was smooth as satin. I kept reading, because she’d asked me to. It was all she ever asked of me, and I was grateful. Grateful that I always knew what to expect with Gretchen.
There were no surprises. No hidden agendas. Just peace and acceptance. It made keeping my emotions to myself that much easier.
She didn’t fear me like many in the town. Didn’t cringe every time I opened my mouth—scared that my Gryphon’s cry would punish them.
When I’d first joined Rose’s Sanctuary, I’d had a temper I didn’t know how to control well. Anger had fueled everything Jared and I did through our lives on Earth. Rose had helped. The pixies had helped. Everyone had helped until that one day when I’d lost control on a Lycan male mistreating a female, not that he didn’t deserve the punishment I’d doled out, but after that, everyone looked at me differently. Everyone except Jared and Rose. She still believed in me, and I owed her for that.
I read the Shakespeare through until the end of Act II and then closed the book. Gretchen’s over-enunciated sigh of exasperation brought a smile to my heart, but I was careful not to let it show on my face. Not to let on just how much her very presence gave me joy. With Gretchen, I forgot how desperately lonely it was to be the only Gryphon on the face of the Earth. How lonely it was to take care of a town that feared you.
The town appreciated my presence, but there were still many who remembered what I’d done. What I could do if provoked. Those stories got larger each year, although they were whispered more quietly.
“I have to go.” The clock on the wall chimed six o’clock.
“You’ll read more tomorrow? I hate leaving it there. It was getting really good.” Her tone carried a sharp slice of annoyance that I could only attribute to her not wanting to end our time together. I took the smallest bit of pleasure in knowing my presence was desired, but letting my mind wander past that assumption would be dangerous. Therefore, I didn’t let it happen.
Sometimes her moods changed so suddenly. I never knew what exactly triggered the changes, though they usually felt like my fault. That somehow I was disappointing her.
I hated that feeling.
�
��Of course,” I responded, adding a hint of promise to my voice to attempt to dissolve her sadness. I loathed leaving her in distress. Despised seeing and feeling the despair that washed over her every weekend. I’d asked her what made her sad, and she’d never answered. Just looked at me with this horrified expression that screamed you-should-know-without-asking. I didn’t. Sometimes I wished I could read minds like the Lycans, but honestly, it would feel too much like a personal invasion of privacy.
“We will pick up tomorrow exactly where I left off.”
The blue Texas sky was graying through the glass window to our right. Dusk was approaching. She needed to get back to the Sister’s quarters below to eat and dress before the castle—the club—opened for the weekend. And I needed to leave. I preferred not to be around when visitors filled these stone walls and courtyards. Vetted or not, humans and kink put my beast on edge. It wasn’t my scene. Ever.
I’d been asked to act in the capacity of hall monitor many times, but after refusing repeatedly, they’d finally gotten the message.
I held the book out toward her, but she shoved away from me and crossed her arms over her chest. A pout pulled at her lips, and her ever bright blue eyes shattered my expectation of ending this reading without feeling her unhappiness spill into my soul.
“I don’t have to leave yet. There’s still two hours before I have to be present and accounted for.”
“You make it sound like a prison roll call.” I regretted the words the instant they left my lips. They’d been callous and harsher than she deserved. If I’d felt like she was in a prison, I wouldn’t have been able to handle it, but all the Sisters appeared happy and pleased with their life. The Blackmoors took excellent care of them. They had free reign in the castle. Their only barrier was the outside walls, but even those of us on the outside rarely ventured outside the town. Perhaps our prison wasn’t the size of one castle, but it still existed. The world outside Sanctuary—even in the Texas Republic—wasn’t safe for any supernatural being. Not really. There were still people within the Republic who would sooner shoot us all than live peaceably with us.
Sanctuary, Texas Complete Series Box Set Page 94