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Restraint (The Revelation Series Book 2)

Page 22

by Randi Cooley Wilson


  Asher’s face softens. “It could be the ascension, or the bond might be changing. I don’t know. Mated gargoyles become very possessive of one another, almost animalistic. Perhaps that’s what you’re experiencing since we shared stone state,” he offers while watching my eyes.

  Suddenly, I’m very aware that he has me pinned against the door. My eyes close, savoring his body’s proximity to me as I inhale his scent. His voice is low and smooth as he says, “We should go back downstairs. Everyone’s leaving today and we don’t want to both not be present. It might seem odd.”

  I nod my agreement since my vocal cords don’t seem to be working. Before Asher moves away, he presses into my body one time as his head drops into my neck, letting his nose run the length of my throat and over my jawline before his lips barely caress mine.

  ***

  I toss and turn for about twenty minutes. The agitation finds its way back into my body, scratching at me. I finally give up and decide I’m getting no sleep tonight. With great dramatics, I throw the blanket off my bare legs and sit up, trying to figure out how I’m going to calm myself down.

  Quietly, I open the door to my bedroom. Noticing the lights are out in the house, I tip toe across the hallway to Asher’s room. Just as I raise my hand to knock, the door opens and his arms dart out, pulling me into the room.

  Without warning, he slams me against the wall, causing a gasp to escape my lips. “What are you doing, siren?” he asks, his voice thick.

  “I-I couldn’t sleep,” I stutter, not able to think with him pushed against me and his breath fanning my face.

  “Fuck this,” he says as he roughly takes my lips with his. I melt at the taste of him as he clutches my upper thighs and picks me up, carrying me to his bed. Please don’t stop touching me, I think to myself as his hand slips under my t-shirt, landing on my skin and pressing me closer to him.

  At his touch, a bolt of electricity flows through me, as if the bond is content because we’re reunited. I groan loudly at the warmth it causes my veins and Asher let out his own sound of pleasure, fueling the ache I’ve been feeling for him for weeks. Gently, he lays me on the bed and covers my body with his. At a frantic rate, we’re both grabbing, touching and pulling.

  Faintly, I’m aware of the knock at the door and we both freeze. “Asher, it’s Keegan. We need to speak, now.”

  Dropping his forehead to mine, he whispers, “Don’t fucking move.” He peels himself off me and goes to the door. He opens it the smallest amount so Keegan can’t see I’m in the room. “This just came from a messenger,” Keegan says, handing him a note.

  “What messenger?” Asher asks.

  “A Royal Gargoyle Council of Protectors messenger.” Keegan states each word in a slow, methodic manner. I sit up at hearing Keegan’s answer.

  Asher snatches the letter and reads it as I hold my breath in fear. “I’m requested to appear the day after tomorrow to stand trial for breaking my oath of protection of Eve Collins.”

  22

  The Council

  Sheer terror and panic flow through me as I read the letter again before placing it into my bag. I know what I have to do, but the fear floating through me is stifling. I press my lips together in trepidation as I look at the clock once more, trying to keep my breathing controlled.

  “All you have to do is get to the Castle Combe Village,” I whisper to myself, trying to calm my nerves.

  “What are you doing?” Asher asks from the doorway. I startle. He watches me before coming over and giving me a soft kiss that rattles my soul. Crap, how long has he been standing there?

  I exhale to still my anxiety and display a fraudulent smile while focusing on the calmness he brings to me through our bond. “A paper for class,” I say, hoping he doesn’t see right through my lie.

  He’s quiet when he leans against the desk and takes my hands in his. Keeping his eyes trained on them, he pulls me up to stand between his legs and wraps his arms around my waist. “Hey,” he says softly. “I don’t want you to worry about tomorrow. I can feel the worry flowing through you. It’s all going to be okay.”

  I nod and focus on his chest where the protector tattoo is located because my stress is more than just the tribunal. He dips his chin. “Your dream was not a premonition of things to come, siren.”

  My voice is just above a whisper. “What if you’re wrong?” I ask with a tight throat.

  He takes my chin in his hand, forcing my eyes to meet his. “I’ve got this. Trust me, yeah?”

  I do trust him, but I will protect him. “With my life.” His eyes roam my face for any sign of hesitation. “Good girl. I’m going to let you finish your paper. I’ll see you upstairs in a bit?” The question lingers, like he’s worried I won’t come up. Does he know?

  I lean in, giving him my best effort at a kiss that shows how much I love him. Our lips stay fused together for a while before I pull away. Asher knits his brows as something flashes over his face, but as quickly as it was there, it is gone.

  He kisses my forehead one final time before standing up and moving to the door. I hold his hands until the final moment that his fingers slip through mine. My eyes just stare at the spot that our fingers used to be joined. “See you soon, siren,” he says in a quiet voice. With those parting words, he walks out. I look at the clock, knowing I have exactly one hour.

  Somehow I manage to slip out unnoticed, which is not easy in a house full of gargoyle protectors. I meet the cab outside the gates and have the driver get me to Castle Combe in no time. It’s a small village in Wiltshire, renowned for its tranquility and it’s where I’m meeting my ride to County Kerry, Ireland.

  The cab pulls up at the 14th century medieval church. I pay him and step out, scanning my surroundings for any danger. When I see none, I run into the cathedral, hoping I’m on time.

  As I make my way into the sanctuary, I smile when I see the long, flowing red hair of the ethereal being whose help I’ve summoned. Sensing my arrival, she turns to me and bows gracefully, a motion that causes her ringlets to fall over her shoulder and onto her deep emerald green Grecian dress.

  I walk to her with elation. “Lady Finella, thank you so much for your help,” I say sincerely.

  “It is truly a great honor where you are concerned, my dear,” she answers while embracing me before pulling back so she can see my face. “Did you have any difficulty using the sleeping potion I provided?” her inquiry is heavy with genuine concern.

  “No. All gargoyles and panther shifters are out for a while,” I say before grabbing my cell phone and turning it off so Asher can’t track me. I force away the guilt I’ve been feeling since lacing everyone’s water at dinner. “The hardest part was watching the clock and waiting for the brew to kick in.”

  The beautiful fairy touches my cheek in a maternal manner. “Excellent. Well done, Eve.”

  I look around at the beautiful church and then back to the queen of the fae realm. “Are you sure Deacon can’t get in here?” I ask with nervous energy.

  She stands tall, pushes back her shoulders, and places both hands over her stomach in a regal fashion. “Do not fear. I am most confident that the demon spawn wouldn’t dare come within a hundred foot circumference of holy ground.”

  I smile. “Good. Are you ready then?” I question with a shaky voice.

  Lady Finella just observes me before speaking. “Forgive me, however, I am obliged to inquire if you are without doubt prepared for this?”

  I lift my chin and inhale. “This is the only way I can be certain he is safe.” I stare at her while she considers me.

  Lady Finella drops her tone to a maternal one. “Your protector will be quite irate with your actions,” she says, waiting for my response.

  I stand straight after situating my bag over my shoulder. “At least he’ll be breathing. Angry or not, Asher will continue living in this world. That’s enough of an incentive for me to make this sacrifice.”

  She studies me thoughtfully before a warm smile graces her pea
ch lips. “You love him.” It isn’t a question.

  I look her directly in the eyes. “With every fiber in my body, your grace.”

  She puts her hands together. “We ought to be off then. I can take you to the door, but once there, only you will be permitted to enter. After which, I will be required to return to the fae realm.”

  I nod in understanding. “Thank you for helping me, your grace. I really appreciate it.”

  Lady Finella tilts her head to the side. “It is my honor, daughter of Heaven.” The fairy holds out her hand, and I take it. “Are you prepared?”

  I exhale a deep breath, hoping I’m doing the right thing. “Yes.” At that one word, the queen flickers us out of the church, and in an instant, we materialize on a stone entryway in front of a pair of large, stained glass doors.

  Lady Finella keeps my hand clasped in hers. “Welcome to Domus Gurgulio Castle,” she says, motioning to the elegant doors. “It’s Latin for House of Gargoyles.” Her eyes shift to mine, and the side of her mouth tilts as she leans in to whisper in a conspiratorial way. “Gargoyles are not the most creative supernatural group. We tend to leave that to the vampires.” She winks as I release a soft laugh.

  The doors open and a large man stands there. His inky black hair falls midway to his neck and a bit over his slate colored eyes. He’s in all black, which makes him look very intimidating, especially with his dark brown gargoyle wings revealed. The gargoyle’s eyes widen when he sees Lady Finella. “Your highness,” he says, bowing to her. “To what do we owe this immense distinction?”

  As a mark of respect, Lady Finella dips her head in a slight motion. “Rulf,” she acknowledges the gargoyle. “Eve Collins, daughter of Heaven, requests an audience with Lord Falk. I entrust you will be considerate and accommodate her appeal. It is also my hope you’ll offer her protection and benevolence as she is to be considered a most revered guest while under your care,” she says with an air of authority that’s not meant to be questioned.

  He bows again. “Of course, my lady.” Rulf turns to me and bends at the waist. “Daughter of Heaven, it is with enormous privilege I welcome you to Domus Gurgulio. If you’d be gracious enough to follow me, I’ll take you to Lord Falk at once.” He motions me into the castle.

  I smile at him. “Thank you,” I say before turning to Lady Finella. “I’m so grateful to you for all your help this evening, your grace.”

  She embraces me one final time while whispering in my ear. “Good luck. I will reflect most excellent wishes to you and hope for the safety of your protector. I must take my leave now. You shall be in safe hands with Rulf.” With those parting words, she shimmers, leaving behind a wave of gold dust in the air.

  I turn back to Rulf. He’s waiting patiently for me to follow him. I square my shoulders and walk steadily into the castle to meet with Lord Falk, the head council member of the Royal Gargoyle Council of Protectors, prepared to plead with him for Asher’s well-being.

  As soon as I step into the stone building, I notice I’m in a large entryway. There are four hallways which all veer off in different directions. Not sure which one to walk through, I wait for the rather threatening dark haired creature to guide me.

  “Come this way, please.” The twenty-something-year-old gargoyle motions toward a long stone hallway to the right of the entry doors. I follow him blindly. As I gaze around, I notice the walls and floors are intricate stonework. The high-vaulted, arched ceilings are composed of a dark wood. There are rich scarlet and gold carpets on the floors and marble and granite tables decorate each hallway. It’s really beautiful in this castle.

  “So you’re the dark prince’s charge?” Rulf says as we walk down a long corridor.

  I don’t trust him, so I keep my answers short. “Yes.”

  He snickers. “You’re friends with the queen of the fae realm?” he asks, perhaps to get to know more about me or make small talk. Either way, I’m not interested in conversing.

  I exhale a nervous breath. “I am.”

  Rulf stops and turns to me, a crooked smile on his amused face. “I know you don’t know or trust me, but as a sworn protector of all humans, I feel obligated to warn you that whatever you did to get here without a protector is going to royally piss off Asher.” He stands there looking at me. “I’m assuming the queen of the fairies assisted your dodge?”

  I roll my eyes, and let out a short laugh having been caught red handed. “Have you ever tried sneaking out of a house full of gargoyle protectors? Security is tighter than a prison. So, yes, assistance in my escape from a fairy might have been in order,” I respond, not making eye contact.

  The gargoyle makes a face like he’s really considering what I said. “Touché,” he says in amusement. “Lord Falk awaits,” he says as he falls in step next to me instead of ahead of me, leading us through mazes of hallways.

  I give him a sideways glance. “Can I ask you a question, Rulf?”

  He scans me. “Sure, Eve,” he answers, testing my name.

  I hesitate before I ask. “What are the council members like?” I inquire. “I mean, is there anything I should be prepared for?” I watch his response carefully.

  He stops and touches my arm lightly. “If you’ve survived this long with Asher St. Michael as your protector, the rest of the council members will look like pussy cats.” A smile forms on his lips before he motions to the last corridor on the left.

  I inhale sharply when we enter this hallway. It’s the same one from my dream with Asher. The alcoves are filled with gargoyle statues on the left, the arched windows highlight the inky night on the right and two gargoyle statues balance fire filled urns on their head, all leading to the two carved doors in front of me.

  I push back my shoulders and face the wooden entry. “Are you all right?” Rulf asks.

  I chew the inside of my cheek and nod, not trusting my voice. “Please wait here. I’ll inform the council and Lord Falk that you’re here.”

  Rulf walks through the doors of my vision as I begin to fidget and wonder if I made the right decision by coming here. “They’re ready for you,” he says near my ear. I didn’t even hear him approach me.

  I turn and follow him through the doors and into the dark, stone chamber that matches my recollection from my dream in perfect detail. I follow my escort down the aisle lined by urns filled with fire. We approach the raised stage where the council sits. They’re all dressed in black, five are to the left of a throne and four are to the right. Asher’s seat is empty. The silver-haired, tall elder stands in his black robe with his dark brown wings extended. He looks unapproachable as he waits to greet me.

  Rulf takes a knee and bends his head. “Lord Falk, I present Eve Collins, escorted by Lady Finella. She has requested haven for the daughter of Heaven, as well as an audience with you.”

  Unsure of what I should do, I lamely wave. “Hello,” I say in a small voice. At this, the council members begin to look at one another. The elder smiles, but it’s not friendly. “Where is your assigned protector, daughter of Heaven?”

  I take a deep cleansing breath before I speak in a firm voice. “He’s not here. I came alone.” I’m having a difficult time looking at Lord Falk, remembering what he did to Asher in my dream. Rulf stands and moves by my side in an almost protective stance.

  “Miss Collins, be assured Domus Gurgulio offers you refuge, always.” Lord Falk bows to me before straightening. “May I present the Royal Gargoyle Council of Protectors?”

  “Of course,” I say, trying not to sound intimidated or afraid as I look at the panel.

  Lord Falk motions to two men on his far right. “Cassius and Lief.” Then motions to two women. “Catrain and Ryia.” He points to a male elder. “Jarin.” At each one’s name, they dip their head to me in acknowledgement. I follow suit.

  Lord Falk shifts his focus to his direct left, motioning to a female elder. “Thea. Rowen is the only gentlemen on this side, Carac, and Sybbyl. The empty chair is for your protector, Prince Asher.” He returns his ga
ze to me as I take in the elite council, all various ages and ethnicities.

  Trying to find words, I say the only thing that comes to mind. “It’s an honor. Thank you for allowing me refuge and for seeing me on short notice.” Whoa, where did that come from?

  Lord Falk relaxes his wings and takes a seat on the throne after his formalities. “Why are you here, Miss Collins, and without your appointed gargoyle?”

  I stand straight and look him right in the eye. “To request clemency on his behalf.”

  All the council’s eyes are on me. Their faces morph into scowls. No one speaks. I don’t wait for an answer. “Mr. St. Michael has done nothing immoral. The accusations against him are inaccurate. It is my understanding that you are a fair council, yet you are prepared to put one of your own on trial for an erroneous charge without any evidence to support the claim,” I say, mustering up all the strength I can to sound unafraid.

  Lord Falk narrows his eyes at me. “Yet here you are, Miss Collins, asking for leniency on his highnesses behalf. Why is that?” Crap. He makes a good point.

  I hold his stare and tip my chin up. “He is my protector. We are bonded. It only makes sense that I care about what happens to him. My well-being and existence depend on his protection.” I pray they buy it.

  23

  Darkness

  “NOT ANOTHER WORD!” A deep male voice shouts from the back of the council chambers. I don’t even need to turn around to know that it’s Asher. I clench my teeth. Damn fairy potion didn’t last long enough. The entire council turns their interest behind me.

  Rulf leans into my ear. “Do you want my protection from your gargoyle?” he asks in a serious tone. I shift my eyes to him without answering. “I’ll take your silence as a yes.” He stands tall again, grinning before he takes my elbow and moves us to the side to make room for Asher.

  The council is now to my left and to my right I see the London clan storming up the aisle, appearing fierce. Asher just looks primal and ready to tear something, or someone, apart with his bare hands. He doesn’t glance at me. The muscle in his jaw is ticking at a rapid pace.

 

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