Restoration

by Randi Cooley Wilson

  Just as his lips touch mine, everything goes black.

  Chapter 2

  After the Storm

  The heaviness pushes down like a stone on my chest while life returns to my body. Warmth rushes within my veins, and a tingling sensation caresses my skin. I cling to the light energizing my soul and the oxygen invigorating my lungs. Everything aches. My limbs. My heart. My mind. It all hurts, causing my body to tremble from the inside out.

  A strong hand curves around my cheek. The fingers belonging to it slide down my face and trace my jaw. Slowly, warm fingertips brush over my throat and across my collarbone. A large palm settles over my heart and stays there, absorbing each beat.

  “I’m here, siren,” a gruff, familiar voice laced with exhaustion and heavy emotion says.

  My soul lifts in recognition. I will my eyelids to open, but they refuse.

  “How is she?” A second known voice cuts through my coma.

  “I don’t know. After her fall, I placed her in a stone state healing sleep. She drifted out of it and built her own realm, then locked me out,” Asher replies sadly. “Michael allowed me to call upon her guardian to retrieve her.”

  Long fingers stroke my hair, leaving a scented trail of cigarettes and spice with each brush. “You are fiercely stubborn, love.” The second voice chuckles.

  Asher exhales a frustrated breath, and I attempt to get my eyes open, unsuccessfully.

  “Would you stop fucking calling her love, Gage,” Asher bites out.

  “She needs rest to heal, dark prince. Don’t rush her recovery. My guess is when she wakes, and recalls the memory of her guardian, her anger will make you wish she was back in a stone state,” Gage warns. “Her reaction to McKenna’s actions will be bad too.”

  Even though I can’t see Asher, I can feel the tension radiating off him in waves. Unable to console my protector and mate, I allow myself to drift back into a peaceful sleep.

  Hours later, my eyes finally open. The soft light from the candles and fireplaces help guide my returning sight. After a few tries, they fully adjust, allowing me to see that I’m still in Asher’s stone state bed, in the chamber at La Gargouille Manor in Wiltshire, England.

  As I sit up, the cool, black silk sheets glide down my bare arms and pool onto my lap. I roll and stretch my neck from side to side, working the kinks out. Then I straighten out my tank top and matching sleep shorts, assessing how I feel, which is completely normal.

  Nothing seems out of place except this itchy bandage below my hairline. I rub at it and sigh in aggravation before my focus shifts and my eyes fixate on Asher, standing shirtless in front of one of the lit fireplaces.

  Sitting straighter, I admire the black dragon tattoo covering his back. The London clan’s family crest rolls over every muscle, adorning his beautiful and exposed skin.

  The way the fire’s shadows dance across his skin, the dragon almost seems to come alive off his physique. I inhale an appreciative breath. Asher St. Michael, prince of the gargoyle race, emanates darkness, power, and raw beauty.

  My legs swing over the edge of the bed and I slide out. Once my bare feet touch the floor, I stalk toward him, like a predator. I know he senses me. He knows I’m awake, yet he hasn’t turned to face me. If he’s waiting for me to approach, he thinks he’s hurt me somehow.

  Once I reach him, I place both my palms flat onto his back, over the dragon. Asher’s skin twitches under my touch, and his body visibly trembles. I breathe in his scent and press my lips between his bare shoulder blades, where I know his raven wings are concealed.

  We stay in this position for mere seconds before Asher turns and our eyes meet. Warm hands capture mine, placing my palms on his chest, so one hand is over the protector tattoo.

  Asher flattens my fingers to his body, like he’s willing me to become one with his skin. He’s staring so deeply into my eyes, for so long, the intensity actually takes my breath away, and at the same time, intimidates me.

  “Hey,” I speak quietly.

  “Hey yourself, siren.” He matches my quiet tone.

  “What’s wrong?” I question, sensing his distress.

  “Now that you’re awake . . . nothing,” he replies on a shaky breath.

  Asher studies me with adoration before leaning down and kissing my forehead. When he pulls back, he runs his thumbs under my eyes in a light brush, savoring what he seems to see.

  “Indigo. Thank fuck,” he exhales.

  I wrinkle my forehead. “My eyes have been indigo for a while now, Ash.”

  Fixated on my face, Asher dips his chin, coming to an internal understanding before speaking in a stern tone. “Let’s keep it that way, yeah?”

  My hands slide up to cup his jaw. “Always. It means I’m yours.”

  The gargoyle’s jaw clenches. “How are you feeling?” His fingers brush over the bandage.

  “A little confused, but physically fine,” I respond. “What happened?”

  Asher watches me for a moment. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

  I step out of the safety of his embrace and face the fire. “County Kerry, Ireland,” I begin. “We were at Domus Gurgulio Castle to meet with the Royal Gargoyle Council of Protectors.” I turn back to face Asher.

  The flames warming my back do nothing to soothe the chill that runs through my veins when my eyes meet Asher’s cold expression.

  “Go on,” he pushes.

  “Um, I remember Lord Falk accusing you of failing to protect the supernatural realms, because of the priestesses’ deaths. Then he wrongly blamed you for Lady Finella’s betrayal and beheading. I also recall the council saying that you’ve disregarded your oaths because of our mate bonding.” I blink slowly and swallow. “And you accused Lord Falk of treason. You said he provided our traitor with safe haven.” I stare at Asher.

  He nods once. “And.”

  I tilt my head and scrunch my face. “And what, Asher?”

  “It would seem my father, the king of the gargoyle race, has risen from the grave.”

  I inhale. “Right. Garrick appeared in the council chamber,” I recount.

  Asher runs his hands over his face and through his hair while releasing an exhausted breath. “Yeah, siren. He did. For the record, it’s true. My father is the traitor.”

  I step toward him to provide comfort, and then stop when realization hits me.

  “Wait, you baited the council because you knew Garrick was the conspirator?” I accuse.

  Asher holds my gaze. “The traitor assumption was only a theory.”

  “All this time . . . you knew he was alive?” My voice sounds dejected.

  Asher backs away from me and sits on the side of the bed. He motions for me to come to him, and after a brief moment of contemplating smacking the beautiful right off him, I go.

  He positions me between his legs, probably so I won’t run away, and wraps his large hands around my waist before looking up at me through sooty eyelashes.

  “I’ve known about my father being alive for a while, Eve,” he says quietly.

  Suddenly, all the air in the room is gone. “How! Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

  Asher works his jaw. “We have a lot to discuss as it relates to Garrick St. Michael.”

  My mouth falls open at his confession. “Did Callan—” I quickly correct myself. “I mean, do he and Keegan know too?”

  Obviously Keegan knew since I told him that day in his office. Holy. Fucking. Shit.

  He nods once. “My brothers and I all knew,” Asher states. “Dear old dad’s traitorous involvement with the dark army was just a hypothesis.” He pauses. “Until now, of course.”

  My eyes shift to the bed, trying to make sense of everything. I study the silk sheets and strewn pillows. Ironically, Asher’s stone state bed is spelled to bring mates together, yet it feels like it’s always the place my deceit rears its ugly head, threatening to tear us apart.

  I swallow and slide my gaze back to his. “I knew too, Asher,” I admit in a guilty ton
e.

  “I know you did,” he responds without missing a beat.

  I arch a brow. “You did?”

  “You confided in Keegan,” he points out. “There are no secrets within this clan.”

  “Keegan told you?” I bite my lip. “Of course he did. Are you pissed I didn’t tell you?”

  Asher pauses for a moment and studies my face before speaking. “You did. In your own way, the day we were in the gardens. I knew when you were ready, you’d confide in me.”

  He shrugs and I sway. “I can’t believe you knew and didn’t say anything.”

  “Maybe you should sit down. We have more than enough time to discuss my asshole of a father when you’re feeling up to it.”

  I blow out a long breath. “I didn’t know how to tell you without destroying you. I asked Michael for confirmation after Morgana mouthed Garrick’s name to me in the park, before she died. I was protecting you, Asher. I didn’t want your world to implode.”

  “I know,” he says in a quiet murmur, squeezing my waist in reassurance.

  “I went to Keegan for help. I thought . . . I thought he would be the only one strong enough to handle it. Oh God. He knew the entire time I was confiding in him?” I question.

  Asher’s expression turns regretful. “Yes.”

  “Was this all a test? To see where my loyalties were?”

  “No. My brothers and I had theories. Your admission to Keegan confirmed what we already assumed to be truth. None of us wanted to believe it, but your words solidified it.”

  “I’m sorry, Ash.”

  His lips tilt slightly. “You are forgiven for protecting me, siren.”

  I step closer and run my hands through his soft hair before tugging gently, forcing his chin to lift. “You’ll forgive me that easily, gargoyle? What’s the catch?”

  “No catch.” His eyes hold mine. “There is only my unconditional love for you. Eve, there is nothing you could do that I wouldn’t forgive. By now, you should know this, yeah?”

  I hold his unwavering gaze before nodding my understanding.

  “I love you. I really do,” I whisper in relief.

  “Because I’m awesome?” he teases suggestively, offering me his sexiest smile before grabbing my waist and yanking me down next to him onto the bed.

  After a small laughing fit and a quick brush of his lips, we both shift so that we’re lying facing one another, propped on our elbows. Asher picks up a strand of my hair, twirling it absentmindedly, and I stare at the Celtic cross tattoo, a reminder of his oaths.

  “Are you really ready to come to terms with Garrick’s return?” I inquire in a serious tone.

  “Keegan, Callan and I have been dealing with our father’s resurrection for a while now. Was it a fucking shock to see him—alive? Yeah. But I’m okay. We all are. What happened in that council chamber reminded us of who we are and what we’re meant to do.”

  “And me?” I watch with fascination as he wraps and unwraps my hair around his finger.

  He tugs the strand lightly, getting my attention. “You didn’t run. You trusted my brother and showed loyalty to the clan. I don’t like that you kept it from me, but I understand the need to protect. So it’s that fucking easy, siren. End of discussion.”

  I gawk for a second at his sincere expression before letting go of my guilt.

  “How’s your head?” Asher asks as his eyes dart to the bandage.

  “Fine,” I assure him.

  “Do you remember my father taking you from the council room?”

  I scan my memories. “Yeah. Garrick held me over the cliff, right?”

  Asher’s expression darkens. “He fucking did, and he will pay for it, on my word.”

  “Oh. My. God.” I grab his face and scan him for injuries. “The dark army was going to attack. I knew you wouldn’t reach me in time, and I released the light energy. Are you hurt?”

  Asher’s hands wrap around my wrists, pulling them away. “I’m fine, siren.”

  “I watched you and Gage tumble through the air to the ground,” I recount, worried.

  “Your energy knocked the wind out of us, like it did with McKenna that day in the training room. Other than a few singed areas on our clothing, we’re both fine.”

  “How is that possible? It destroyed the dark army.” I state in confusion.

  “Michael seems to think it’s because of our Celtic tattoos. They symbolize our loyalty to the Spiritual Assembly, which is not a dark entity, in turn protecting us.”

  “What about Gage, though?” I counter. “I thought he didn’t align with either side.”

  “Gage took the oath when he agreed to protect you. He hides his tattoo on his calf.”

  I take in a sharp breath. “Garrick dropped me. He let go. I fell, Asher.”

  Sadness and regret pass over Asher’s face. “I know, siren.”

  “I don’t remember anything after that.” I dig through my mind.

  “Gage and I planned to distract my father. McKenna was behind him, ready to run the Angelic Sword through him. When she did, I was supposed to catch Garrick and Gage you. However, you beat us to the punch, catching us all off guard when you released the light source, pushing Gage and I away. When Garrick dropped you, Kenna dove to catch you. She did, but not before you cracked your head on a sharp rock.” He winces and brushes his fingers over the bandage.

  “So I’ve been healing?” I motion to the tousled bed.

  “You lost a lot of blood.” He pulls me closer, forcing my hands to curl around the back of his neck. “I had to put you in a stone state healing sleep. When I went to dream walk to you, you had locked yourself in a realm that you created. Do you recall?”

  “Aria.” I swallow hard as the images hit me.

  “She’s your guardian and agreed to go in and retrieve you.” He leans his forehead to mine. “I didn’t want you to find out about her that way, but I couldn’t get through to you.”

  “Aria is my guardian angel,” I repeat with astonishment in my tone.

  His fingers dig into my hair. “Since your creation.”

  “You all knew,” I accuse. “You didn’t think it was important to tell me, Asher?”

  “You know how this works. Initially, we weren’t allowed to tell you. Then, the Angelic Council called her back, ending her assignment, and we took over your protection.”

  “Heaven kills off guardian angels when their assignments are over?” I challenge.

  “Aria knew you were in danger and stepped in, knowing her time with you—her assignment was over,” he says. “That’s why she did it. To protect you, siren.”

  “I knew she got to me way too fast,” I recall. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

  He pulls back to look at me. “On the plane to England, but you were so sad and tired. After a while, you dealt with her death and put it behind you. At that point, the clan didn’t feel it was necessary for you to know.” Asher brushes the strands of hair that have fallen forward off my face. “I’m sorry for not telling you earlier.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut. “I finally got to say goodbye to her, properly.”

  He offers a sad smile. “I’m glad. Everyone should get a chance at a final goodbye.”

  “I guess we’re even. I didn’t tell you about Garrick, and you didn’t tell me about Aria.” I grimace. “I hate to admit this, but I’m starting to think we really do need couples therapy.”

  Asher releases a light chuckle. “I knew the moment I met you that we would, siren.”

  “Clearly, we have communication issues,” I retort.

  “Don’t leave out our abandonment and anger issues,” he adds in a light tone.

  I take in a deep breath. “In my right mind, I never would have shut you out of the realm.”

  Asher swallows loudly. “I was going fucking insane. You had this vacant look. My heart completely stopped when you told me you didn’t remember me.” His voice trails off.

  I cup one of his cheeks with my hand and lean forward, planting
a soft kiss on his lips.

  “We promised each other we’d face this together. You running, scares the shit out of me.” He exhales. “But I’ve gotta tell you, siren, you forcing me out of a realm that you’ve created and trapped yourself in, with no memory of us . . . I’ve never been more terrified in my life. Don’t ever fucking do that again, yeah?”

  His words hit me in the gut. I’ve hurt him, again. “Never,” I vow.

  Asher leans forward and allows his lips to lightly caress mine, sealing my promise to him.

  “How is everyone else?” I inquire.

  “They’ll be relieved once they learn you’re awake.” He releases a ragged breath.

  “Let’s go say hi then.” I start to move off the bed, but Asher stops me.

  He crawls over me, straddling my body. Holding my eyes, his fingers circle around both my wrists, lifting and pinning my hands over my head before he presses his weight into me so I’m trapped on the bed. With an odd expression, he sighs heavily.

  “In the spirit of being honest, I need to tell you something before we go upstairs,” he says.

  “Okay.” My tone is lined with caution.

  “You’re going to be pretty pissed off when I tell you this. Hence the need to restrain you.”

  Crap. I chew on the inside of my cheek. “You have my full attention.”

  “After you hit your head, you lost a lot of blood. So much so that you almost bled out. We needed to perform an immediate transfusion to save you.” He frowns.

  “Are you saying your blood is running through my veins, Asher St. Michael?” I seduce.

  Asher’s signature sexy smirk appears on his lips. “Fuck, that sounds hot.”

  I wiggle my body underneath his and he growls at me in annoyance. “Siren,” he warns.

  I giggle. “All right, continue.”

  “If I had infused you with my blood, it would have completed the bond.” His tone drops.

  “So?” My face contorts, wondering why that would be an issue.

  “So, I didn’t want to make that choice without your consent.”

  At his admission, my heart soars. Then I realize, if he didn’t save me, someone else did.