by Unknown
“You’re going to escort me?”
When his gaze dropped to her lips, lingering there, she parted them instinctively. He raised a hand, but then dropped it.
“I want to make sure you get back safely.”
She gave him a sidelong glance. “Why? Are you still trying to seduce me?”
He scanned her body in a way that made her burn from the inside out, but didn’t answer. “It’s our way.” He took a few steps and motioned to her. “Come.”
She hesitated. Was she crazy to walk through the woods with a gargoyle who could attack her at any time? Yet he didn’t project any signs of ill will. Considering she’d just buried her face into his chest for safety, she didn’t understand her conflicting thoughts and actions.
Whether she walked with him or not, he could attack. Having him close made her forget her earlier anxiety picturing vicious creatures in the woods.
She would walk with him, but stay wary. “Fine.”
They traversed the dense thicket without a word. The occasional howl of wolves pierced through the more ambient sounds of the night forest, insects and the gentle whir of the breeze ruffling through leaves. The howls seemed more distant. She worried less about them while her curiosity grew about the creature walking beside her. He’d traveled to distant lands, flown there under cover of night with his beautiful wings. Not even the most powerful witches in her coven could fly that distance. He could shift from one form to another. The more she snuck glances at his strong, defined profile or to watch the sway of his kilt, the more her fascination grew.
Why was she so affected by him, so aware of his presence beside her? The breeze in the night air barely cooled her flushed skin. What would his chiseled lips feel like touching hers? Moisture increased between her thighs, and she hoped he did not scent her growing desire. When she peeked at him, the corner of his mouth curled into a smirk and then vanished.
His gaze raked over her body before returning before him. “What’s it like over on your side of the island?”
Was he genuinely curious or pumping her for information? “Same as yours, I gather.”
“No, not the same. Your houses are in the trees, no?”
“Aye,” she said. “That’s one of the differences.”
“I’ve always wondered about it. Since I was a young boy, I’d wanted to see the magical land in the trees. But was warned of the evil of tree witches.” He grinned. “They told me not to ever step foot over there. Said the witches would boil me in a cauldron and eat me.”
Kayla laughed. “We heard some frightful warnings about the bloodthirsty gargoyles, too.” She peered at him. “So did the warnings work?”
“No.”
“You came over?”
“I tried. Couldn’t get through the magical barrier.”
“Ah.” Tension left her shoulders. Something about the candid way he spoke to her helped her relax.
“Did you listen?” He tilted his head.
“I followed the rules forbidding us to cross into the other territories my whole life, despite my curiosity.” She smiled. "Until I heard about the concerts. I figured if the humans were coming to these shows and they weren’t being slaughtered, there had to be something to see.”
“And we didn’t kill any of you.” A teasing glint in his eye joined an infectious grin.
“Who would have thought?”
She raised her eyebrow in mock seriousness before breaking out with a laugh and he joined in.
When they reached the moors, the fragrance of the grass and wildflowers greeted her. They crossed broad sections of heather, searching through the darkness with her ball of light. When they reached a copse near the border of the witches’ territory, he stopped.
“I’ll keep watch from here. Better not to cross into your lands.”
The treetop houses of her coven were visible through breaks in the lush green leaves on the other side of the rolling fields.
She turned to Mason. His mouth had pulled into a taut line. His features were unreadable, except for one—his eyes. When he peered down at her, the dark hunger within them was clear. He took a wide stance, fists clenching and unclenching. What had happened?
“Thank you for making sure I made it home safe,” Kayla said, and stood on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek.
Sparks ran through her when her lips met his smooth skin.
“You’re welcome,” he said through a strangled voice then straightened his posture. “I will not reveal your visit to our lands.” A low groan escaped him.
“Are you okay?” She searched his eyes.
“You should go,” he said. “Before I do something you might regret.” His voice came out low and ragged, ending with a hint of longing as his eyes traveled over her.
A fiery path erupted on her flesh. She became keenly aware of all her exposed skin; the tunic left much of her arms and legs bare. She peered at his face, trying to discover the meaning behind his unreadable expression.
“Like what?” She took a step closer, her eyes fixed on his captivating lips.
Heat radiated from him, penetrating her like the sun warming her on hot midsummer days. It coiled inside her, low in her belly, and sank lower. She recognized it, the magic between lovers. Intoxicating and intense. An all-consuming attraction. The air between them shimmered with energy, an irresistible force connecting them.
His lips parted, but he turned away, hands clenched as he struggled with something.
“Like what,” she repeated, running her index finger over the smooth, bulging muscle in his bicep.
Mason turned to her and searched her face. The conflict in his eyes was replaced by dark desire. Every chirp and rustle of leaves seemed to magnify in volume. He took her chin in his hand and gently guided her head back. She swallowed, pulse racing as his face inched closer. His wild male scent reached her again, eliciting a primal response. Anticipation pounded through her as steadily as a ritualistic drum as the seconds ticked on.
“Like this,” he growled.
His lips brushed hers, soft, yet searing her with such vitality. She faltered, the sensation overpowering her with raw need, but he caught her and held her in his strong embrace. His tongue touched her bottom lip, tracing the contours. She opened her mouth, inviting him in, and energy jolted through her. His tongue darted in, tasting her, before pulling away. She followed suit, teasing him, waltzing with him in this sensual dance.
He pulled her into a tight embrace and claimed her mouth in a demanding kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck, crushing her breasts against him. The scents and sounds of the forest vanished as she lost herself in his arms. She’d never experienced a kiss like this, one that rocked her to her core.
He kissed over her cheek, down her jaw, and neck, and released a low, animalistic growl that sent ripples of desire through her, knowing she was the cause. Her nipples tingled against the taut muscles of his chest. She ran her hands over his defined shoulder blades, down his smooth skin to his lower back. Every part of him was hard as stone and contoured with muscle, but alive. Thrillingly alive.
“I like this,” she said, touching the nape of his neck and through his dark hair. She kissed his neck, nibbling and biting him, and he moaned again.
“You tempt me so.” He gripped the back of her head, and returned to her mouth, plunging in, and she opened wider for him.
Their kiss grew hungrier and more intense. Now that she’d had a taste, she couldn’t pull away. His erection pressed against her, sending a new wave of desire straight to her core. A small voice inside scolded, but the forbidden aspect made him all the more impossible to resist. If it was so wrong, why did it feel so good to be wrapped in his arms, feasting on him? If he was so evil, why had he made sure she was safe?
They explored each other’s bodies, grabbing each other, while they kissed with a frantic demand that threatened to suffocate them. She finally pulled away with reluctance as they panted, gulping for air.
The hungry glint disappeared from his
expression and the conflict retuned. He closed his eyes. “I’m sorry I did that. I don’t know what came over me.” His voice came out with a tortured gasp. “You must go.”
Kayla searched his expression. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
“You know this is wrong.” He dropped his face into his hands and turned away. “It is forbidden.”
She exhaled. Yes, she knew their clans had clashed. What she didn’t understand was why. She searched across the moors, looking into the thicket of the trees for answers. A sharpness pierced her. Her fantasies had begun to come true only to come to a sudden halt. “You’re right. I should go.” She turned and walked in the direction of her house on the other side of the meadow, her eyes fixed on the moss-covered rocks among the green and purple growth ahead.
“Wait,” he called. Mason’s expression softened as he caught up with her. Stepping closer, he stroked her cheek. “I’m saying this for your own good.”
She pulled his hand away as confusion welled in her. “Then why are you calling me back?”
“Because I don’t want you to go.” He clenched his fist and reopened it. “I shouldn’t be as attracted to you as I am. It would be seen as a betrayal.”
“Betrayal?” she repeated with mounting frustration. “I see.”
“With all the history between our ancestors,” he added.
She raised her hands and dropped them. A conflict from years before between people she didn’t even know forbidding her from doing what she wanted to do. “Fine. I understand. I’m leaving.”
“Kayla, please.”
“What?” She spun on one foot and exhaled. All the back and forth turmoil played on her emotions so she didn’t know what to think.
“I want to see you again.”
His rich velvety voice melted through some of her exasperation. “How? You know the rules. You just explained them.”
“Meet me here tomorrow at this time,” he insisted.
His invitation filled her with delight, but she knew it wouldn’t be easy to escape the coven, especially on the night of the summer solstice. One night earlier this week, she’d been thwarted by her mother and aunts who insisted she come to a bonfire gathering. “I will try,” she promised. “But it won’t be easy.”
He furrowed a brow. “No, it won’t. Not with the feud between our clans.” He took her hand and searched her eyes with an imploring look. “Please try.”
She planted a kiss on his still parted lips. “I’ll find a way.”
He exhaled and then smiled. “I’m sure you will. Witches are resourceful.” He held her hand and rubbed a circular design on her palm before releasing it. “Until tomorrow.”
She ran the remaining distance across the moors, the neutral land between that of the witches, wolves, and gargoyles. When she glanced back, Mason was no longer at the edge of the copse. Perched in the branches of a tree above, he watched over her. Warmth encased her heart knowing he made sure she made it home safely.
She didn’t know if or how she would be able to return tomorrow. Or if she could sneak home undetected tonight. She blew him a kiss before she continued her journey through the oaks and Scots pine to return to her house in the trees.
CHAPTER THREE
Hidden in the cloak of the trees, Mason watched until Kayla was safe, deep into the realm of the Caledonia coven. As a gargoyle, he was forbidden to cross over into the witches’ territory, part of a treaty signed by the elders when he was twelve. The forbidden aspect of visiting the enchanted land had increased the allure. He had flown over their territory many nights, seeking a glimpse through the foliage. Through gaps, a number of houses were visible, built into the branches of majestic trees. Canopies of silver fir, spruce, beech, and Scots pine created a lush green cover in the forests of Northern Caledonia. Ferns framed the entry into their world, accented by rhododendron, azalea, and roses that poked through the greenery with bright colors. Rugged red cliffs descended to moss-covered rocks that welcomed the cool waters of the Atlantic Ocean. Often a fine mist covered their land, adding to its mystical atmosphere. Its beauty surpassed that of many places he’d visited, he suspected its lush growth was enhanced by magic.
He gazed at their land, the only part of the island still cloaked with enough magic to keep trespassers away. The tree witches had cast so many spells that he doubted any humans could ever find it.
Mason brought his wings in to bolt into the sky before unfurling them to survey the island from above, the way he and his brothers did each night. Sometimes they flew to distant lands to explore other places, especially their ancestral home in the Scottish Highlands, but they always scanned the Isle of Stone for danger before leaving its borders. Mason spotted a trail of discarded trash leading from the gargoyle amphitheater to the ferry. One of the problems with the humans was their lack of respect for the earth.
Putting on the nightly shows for humans was a tricky venture. Mason and his brothers found an audience who enjoyed their music and they enjoyed the attention of the human females. They’d also welcomed the solar-powered technology they acquired from humans on other islands. During the rough transition years of adolescence, they’d discovered rock music. The elders had disapproved of their fixation on human music, yet another difference between the old and new ways. When the brothers created the Knights of Stone and played in cities in Europe, the elders made their objections loud and clear. No point in living stuck in the old ways. The world had changed over the centuries. Gargoyles lived in cities, taking posts on buildings, or clung to the old ways living in the ancient forests like that of his clan.
Mason saw movement in the skies above the Atlantic. Based on their distinctive shape and flight patterns, he deduced it was his brothers flying from the island. He grinned—probably in search of female attention, as usual.
When he caught up with them, his youngest brother Calum, the energetic front man for their band, said, “We wondered where you’d gone.”
“Just exploring,” Mason lied. “Where are you headed?”
“We thought we’d go searching for some fine lasses on the mainland tonight,” Gavin said.
Although all his gargoyle brothers thrived on chasing females, to Gavin, it was more than mere sport or entertainment. He lived and breathed thinking about females, whether in flesh or stone.
The five of them remained still in stone for hours usually during the day. Gargoyles didn’t sleep the way humans and animals did, cut off from the world. Their rest period was more meditative in their stone forms so they could observe signs of unrest. Once the blood resumed flowing through a gargoyle’s veins, the drive to mate became unable to ignore. The blood animated their bodies, a surge of energy that gave them achingly-hard erections. They had enjoyed many lovely human lassies willing to try to sate their lust, yet none had settled with one female. Even his oldest brothers, Lachlan and Bryce, who were in their mid-thirties, remained unhitched. This worried the elders since reproduction was a sensitive topic. The tree witches had cursed the gargoyles twenty-five years ago, making them unable to bear young. Since the curse had been lifted, the gargoyle clan sought to continue the line with the birth of many young gargoyles. The elders pressured Mason and his brothers, who were not ready to settle down. When the clan returned to the Scottish Highlands, they found more freedom to carry on their lifestyle.
The tree witches were behind that curse on the gargoyles. And yet he’d spent time with a lovely tree witch tonight, one who had hair as dark as the midnight skies and eyes as blue as the lochs. Would a tree witch be able to bear a child with a gargoyle? If so, the offspring of such a pairing would likely have immense power and capabilities.
He shook his head. What was wrong with him to think this way? He snapped out of his introspection to get back to the present.
“Not enough female attention for you at the show tonight?” Mason teased.
“Plenty of fine ones ready and willing,” Gavin said. “But I’m itching for a chase off the isle.”
“Let�
�s go.”
Mason joined them to distract himself, but it didn’t help. Kayla’s presence at their shows had left him unnerved. The way she stared at him was intoxicating, threatening to make him hard. Her being a tree witch complicated the issue. He should have walked away when he’d found out.
Then why did he escort her? Kiss her? Invite her to return tomorrow?
A dull ache throbbed in his head. He blinked his eyes to find some relief and clear the confusion.
When he’d glanced in her wide eyes, the color of the bright blue lochs in the early morn, he saw no malice. She appeared kind. Caring. He sensed it in her, piercing holes in what he’d been told of the evil coven. Were they evil, responsible for the near extinction of the gargoyles?
Or was there more to the story?
After they’d flown miles over the Atlantic, he gave up the hunt to search for other lasses. “I’m heading back to the isle,” he said.
“What’s gotten into you?” Gavin asked.
“Nothing,” Mason lied. “Just not in the mood. Going to stay close to home tonight.” Close to Kayla.
Mason flew off and returned to the isle. He flew near the coastline of the witches’ territory and wondered if Kayla slept safe.
Before sunrise, he and his brothers had resumed their stone forms at the amphitheater. Mason attempted to enter a restful state, but he couldn’t get the image of Kayla out of his mind. What was it about this wee tree witch that had him so wound up? Whenever he thought of her, a beast rose within him, wanting to touch every part of her.
What had she done to him? No woman had ever had such a grip on his thoughts.
Ah, she was a witch, after all. She must have bewitched him with some sort of potion. He didn’t drink anything when he was with her, witches were crafty. She could find another way to bend his will. Although he wanted to attribute his obsessive thoughts to a spell, a small voice inside told him it wasn’t true.