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Stone Destiny (Stone Passion #3)

Page 9

by Warneke, A. C.


  “Of course I would.” She simply didn’t comprehend what would drive him so far away from her.

  “We have a month, Ferris,” he said softly. “Will you be able to forgive me and spend the days with me?”

  Her lips parted in horrific understanding as sorrow clasped her heart between its cold and cruel hands and squeezed. As tears welled in her eyes, spilling over in a torrent of despair, she wrapped her arms around him and held onto him as if that would be enough to keep him with her. In desperation, she pressed her lips to his, kissing him, devouring him, taking him into her soul so that he would never leave her even though he would be gone in just a few short weeks.

  With strength born of desperation, she pushed him onto his back, clawing and tearing at his clothes until he was naked beneath her, her lips kissing and nipping along his skin. She wanted to punish him for breaking her heart and cherish him for his misguided selflessness. Panting heavily, she tore the clothes from her own body and sprawled out on top of him, wanting to touch him everywhere, wanting to be touched everywhere by him.

  Straddling his hips, she slowly took him into her body, feeling the pleasurable ache as he stretched her and filled her. His hands covered her breasts as she rode him, needing to forget everything beyond the four walls of her studio. In that room it was just the two of them. Nothing else mattered, nothing else existed. She slid her body down until her breasts were pressed against his hard chest and then she ran her hands along his arms, pushing them above his head until her lips were a breath away from his. “What the hell were you thinking, giving up your nights to a stranger when you could have given them up to me?”

  “I wasn’t thinking, Ferris,” he admitted. “I only knew that I had to save you from yourself and I couldn’t bear it if you refused me.”

  “You’re an idiot.”

  “Yes,” he agreed readily, sadly. “I am.”

  “You can’t leave me, Armand,” she breathed, kissing him softly. Against his lips, she rasped, “You’re my destiny.”

  “I’m sorry,” he choked out, lifting his head and deepening the kiss.

  Raphe looked through the skylight, a frown marring the otherwise immaculate line of his gargoyle face. “It appears as if Armand has given up his nights.”

  The other two crowded around and looked in, seeing the naked limbs of Ferris and Armand entwined together, surprise evident on all three gargoyles’ faces. Michael’s stone lips parted and then slammed shut and then parted. He finally managed to ask, “How could he have given Ferris his nights? She spent most of the night at the bar with us.”

  “I don’t think he gave Ferris his nights,” Raphe murmured, thoughtfully.

  “Are we going to have to take a chisel to our older brother’s body?” Michael asked savagely, taking apparent glee in the idea.

  “No,” Leo growled, grabbing his smaller brothers by their arms and hauling them away from the window, giving Ferris and Armand the privacy they deserved.

  It wasn’t going to end well for the two lovers. What had Armand been thinking when he gave his nights to someone else? Anyone with eyes could have seen how much Ferris loved him, more than he would ever know. She may have thought she was discreet but her eyes lit up whenever Armand entered the room, her smile grew a little brighter and she was just a touch more animated.

  Raphe just never thought Armand would do anything about it and had assumed Ferris had finally moved on, especially when Michael had taunted her about taking a lover. Of course, if Armand had been the mystery lover that would explain Ferris’s barely contained nervous energy over the past weeks even though Armand had been gone. The others might not have been aware of it, though Raphe doubted that was true. For the three of them who had grown up with Ferris it was unmistakable. Raphe had just assumed, had hoped, she was giddy over her new lover.

  “He’s going to break her heart,” Michael glowered.

  “That was always inevitable,” Raphe agreed with sad acknowledgement.

  “I don’t think so,” Leo said quietly, his broad nose twitching in the breeze. “I think maybe one of us should offer up their nights for her, then they can be together as gargoyles when he wakes up.”

  If marble could pale then the three of them would be white. Michael visibly shuddered, “While I adore Ferris I don’t think I could sleep with her. She’s, well, she’s Ferris.”

  “That’s not the part that scares me,” Leo balked, even though he was the one who suggested it. “Imagine Armand waking up and discovering that one of us gave up his nights to her, that one of us slept with her. It is bound to end badly and I am pretty sure whoever did it would end up with a chisel being taken to his body.”

  “And I’m pretty sure I know which piece would be chiseled,” Michael said grimly and the three of them winced, taking a moment to evaluate the risk.

  “You know she would accept the gift in a heartbeat to become a gargoyle so she could be with Armand.” As Leo’s words sank in, the three brothers nodded their heads in agreement. After a moment, Leo suggested, “I say we draw straws. The loser seduces Ferris and gives her his nights,”

  “Let Raphe do it,” Michael piped in. “He’s even less experienced than Ferris so if he fails to give her an orgasm he can just blame his virginity.”

  A low rumble came from the back of Raphe’s throat and his ears slicked back against his head as his hackles rose. Before things could get out of hand, Leo stepped between then and grabbed each of them by the back of the neck, easily lifting his brothers off their feet. He was sorely tempted to smash their heads together but he refrained. “Behave! We don’t need to draw attention to ourselves.”

  “It’s not like it matters,” Michael complained. “The whole world knows magic exists. I don’t know why we remain hidden.”

  “We simply do,” Raphe said, his head cooling much faster than Michael’s.

  Leo glanced at his youngest brother and set him down. The panther walked a few yards away and hunched down, contemplative once more. Looking at his older brother, Leo set Michael down as well. He promptly batted Leo’s hand away and stalked off in the opposite direction, grumbling and swearing under his breath.

  Chapter 7

  The Calm Before the Storm

  Ferris lay snuggled against Armand’s chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his beating heart. Everything would have been perfect if he wasn’t going to be leaving her in less than a week. Darkness followed them wherever they went so they could never be perfectly happy, not for more than a heartbeat at a time. They had to live an entire lifetime in a month.

  They had flown off to ski resort in Colorado and spent the first days in a state of euphoria as they explored one another’s bodies. Growing up, she had always been reserved but with Armand she wanted to experience everything because she trusted him with her soul. One night as they sat curled up in front of the fire, she turned to him, a twinkle in her eyes, and declared, “I want to drink all of the liquor in this place and get as drunk as I can possibly get.”

  He brushed a strand of hair from her face and smiled at her in that hot, indulgent way of his, “You’ve never had more than a sip or two of wine at dinner and you’ll pass out after your first shot.”

  “I won’t,” she readily denied, standing up and heading over to the well-stocked bar, comfortable in her nudity. Armand made a strangled sound as she moved and she smiled, knowing that she was having such a profound effect on him without even trying. Grabbing a couple of beers from the mini fridge, she looked over her shoulder and asked, “How does it go? Beer before wine and you’ll be fine?”

  Slowly, he stood up and stretched his long, supple muscles, his erection straining in front of him. Ferris’s mind went blank as he stalked across the room, a knowing smile curving his lips. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulled her into the heat of his body and placed his chin on her shoulder, “I don’t know. Gargoyles don’t have any difficulties with alcohol.”

  It took her a moment to find some working brain cells as she bas
ked in his heat. Fuzzy memories of the three younger gargoyles getting drunk brought her back to the present and she cleared her throat. Moistening her lips with the tip of her tongue, she rasped, “But you can get drunk.”

  He nodded, his cheek moving against hers as he murmured, ‘But it isn’t long lasting and we don’t suffer any hangovers.” Pressing a kiss against her neck, he whispered, “Are you sure this is something you want to do?”

  She nodded as pleasure buzzed low in her belly. Turning around to face him, she draped her arms over his neck, the beer bottles touching his skin and making him jerk. Holding his eyes, swaying to a tune that only they could hear, she murmured, “I want to do it with you because you’ll keep me safe.”

  What she remembered of that night was that the sex had been phenomenal, as always, and that she was never going to drink again.

  They had spent most of their time inside the mountain ski lodge, only occasionally hitting the slopes. Since they rarely left their rooms it probably would have made more sense to simply stay at the castle but neither of them had been eager to share their relationship with the rest of the family. Ferris was unwilling to share their brief time together with anyone, especially her family. They were still going to be here when he woke up while she wasn’t sure if she would be. Even if she had several plans in place to extend her life span there were no guarantees.

  While they rested between bouts of sex, from the purely carnal to the sweet and heartbreaking, they had talked and she had sketched, filling up a few sketchbooks with as many different images as she could to keep her warm in the cold and lonely life ahead. The sketches and the videos she had taken during their trips were already priceless treasures.

  Now they were back at the castle, back in her studio, the place where it all began.

  Only Melanie and Georgia had been home when they had returned to the castle only a few hours prior, since the sun was still up. Her aunt had taken one look at them, at the way Ferris was snuggled up against Armand’s side, at Armand’s arm possessively wrapped around Ferris, and she blinked. Once. And then the most beautiful smile spread across her face and she leapt up from the couch and threw her arms around both of them, laughing giddily, “Armand!! You gave up your nights to Ferris? Oh, my gods….”

  Armand cleared his throat and put a restraining hand on Melanie’s arm as tears slipped down Ferris’s cheek, “Not exactly.”

  Melanie took a step back and her brows drew together in confusion and then concern as she saw the misery on Ferris’s face. Reaching out, she took Ferris’s hand, “Honey….”

  “I’ll explain later,” Ferris whispered, squeezing her aunt’s hand and offering a tremulous smile. She could see by Melanie’s expression that her aunt had a million questions but she held her tongue and Ferris was grateful. With one last glance at her aunt, she and Armand made their way to her studio and the sex was almost frantic with desperation. It was becoming increasingly desperate as their time together ran out.

  “Did you know when Vaughn first met Melanie I was jealous as hell?” Armand asked from out of nowhere. Tilting her head back, Ferris saw that he was staring out the skylight to the moon that was waning, his thoughts a million miles in the past. “I had been half in love with her myself but she had only ever had eyes for Vaughn.

  “I sometimes wonder what would have happened had I met her first,” his voice trailed off as he spoke of things Ferris had never known, had never ever guessed at. Twinges of jealousy nibbled at the edges of her thoughts but their time was too short to give in to the green eyed beast. She’d have time to deal with it after…. He chuckled softly, “She was unlike any human I had ever met, Ferris, completely at ease in the world of magic and for a gargoyle that was a tremendous discovery. Even Katrina wasn’t as comfortable around us as Melanie was, at least not all of the time. Sometimes…. Well, it's not important.

  “You see, gargoyles used to be among the very few creatures that could straddle both worlds with ease: as men throughout the night and as gargoyles during the day. We kept the two worlds separate and Melanie crashed through all of the barriers,” he smiled, the sad sound of nostalgia lacing his voice. “Vaughn never stood a chance.”

  “Do you still love her?” she asked softly.

  He looked at her with such tenderness, such adoration, in his eyes that she wanted to weep. Softly, he ran his fingers along her temple, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, “Not in the way you’re asking, but I do love her. She went against all of my expectations and chose Vaughn, even when he was a gargoyle. I will always love her for that.”

  Pushing herself up onto her arm so she could look down at his handsome face, she smiled. One of his arms was bent, his hand resting beneath his head, his muscles bulging. His other arm was around her waist, his fingers gently stroking her bare skin. “You’re a romantic!”

  Color stained his cheek bones as he grimaced, “I am most assuredly not a romantic.”

  “You are,” she grinned, brushing her thumb over his soft, firm lips. “All of this time you have been pretending to be this cold, unfeeling gargoyle when the fact of the matter is you feel things too deeply.”

  He nipped at her thumb and she jerked her hand away, laughing in sheer pleasure. She had been right all along. “Oh, Armand, I do love you.”

  “I know,” he grinned, abruptly shifting their positions until she was on her back and he was looming over her. The smile faded from his lips as he gazed down at her and she felt it, too: the ticking of the clock as time sped through their fingers.

  “I hate Katrina for making you think you had to encase your heart in ice,” she murmured, moistening her lips with the tip of her tongue. In the candle light his skin glowed warmly and his muscles were clearly defined and she wanted the moment to last forever. The dark, masculine scent of him filled her head and she wished she could bottle the scent.

  “Everything worked out the way it had to in order to bring me to you,” he whispered, lightly brushing his lips against hers, teasing her with a kiss that was barely there. “Had Katrina accepted my gift then I would never have discovered the sweetest, most kissable, most delectable Ferris and that truly would have been a tragedy.”

  “You are a romantic.” Her smile trembled as she looked up into the face of the man she had loved since she was sixteen, the man she would always love. He was her destiny, if only for another week.

  “No,” he denied again, a smile teasing his lips even though his green eyes were troubled. “I am a man who adores a beautiful, courageous woman and I don’t know how I am going to adjust to a life I no longer know without you there to guide me.

  “I should have had faith in you, Ferris,” he lamented as his mouth slanted over hers and he gave nourishment to her soul. She just prayed it was enough to last for the rest of her life. He settled his weight between her thighs, thrusting his heavy erection into the depths of her body. Framing her face between his large hands, he stared intently into her eyes, the green depths glowing with determination, “Ferris, I want you to promise me that you won’t mourn me for the rest of your life.”

  “Armand,” she rasped, unable to bear talking about the future when her future didn’t include him. “Don’t….”

  “Promise me,” he growled, punctuating his words with a powerful thrust. “I want you to find someone who can love you the way you deserve to be loved.”

  “Armand, please….”

  “Someone who will be brave,” he uttered, plunging deeper into her body. “Who will be bold.” Thrust. “Someone who will be courageous.” Thrust. “And accept your love without doubt or hesitation.”

  “Armand,” she cried, tangling her arms around his neck and holding him tight, wanting him to stop talking. “If you hadn’t given up your nights we never would have had this time together, we never would have known for sure.”

  He enfolded her into his arms, taking her into his body as his breath fanned against her neck, warming the sensitive skin. Ignoring her words, he whispered in her ear, “I’
ll hate the bastard that wins your heart because it won’t be me that will get to see your smile; it won’t be me that will share your bed; it won’t be me that will grow old with you.”

  “You’ll never grow old,” she managed to choke out, her throat tight with misery. Suddenly she knew with absolute conviction that had he not foolishly given his nights to another woman he never would have been so open with her. There wasn’t a risk to love someone for a month, not really. A lifetime of love was far scarier and infinitely more wonderful. A month just wasn't enough time.

  “But I would give up immortality and magic in a heartbeat if it meant I got to grow old with you,” he whispered, the words breaking her heart because she knew them for the lie they were. After that, no more words were spoken because she could no longer bear to dwell on regrets. Giving into passion, feeling him in the depths of her body, her soul, she let the lies go. He pushed her higher and higher, kissing her, stroking her, until she broke.

  After she came down from a sweltering orgasm, he gathered her up in his arms and held her close. His heart pounded against her ear, the most blessedly beautiful sound and in less than a week she wouldn’t hear it again. Squeezing her eyes closed, she tried to ignore the sorrow that was threatening to engulf her as she tightened her hold on him.

  She couldn’t stop the bleak thoughts even as he combed his fingers through her hair, as he whispered words of love and eternity against the shell of her ear, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin and embedding the words in her heart. In the years ahead all she was going to have of Armand was a stolen moment in time.

  Already she could picture the future as it spread out before her, a desolate world void of laughter and light. She knew that there would be times when she would smile once more and there may even be moments when she would forget but she also knew that the world was going to be a much colder, crueler place without Armand in it.

 

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