by Unknown
“I have not had a chance since I’ve been too concerned with my daughter who’s been acting suspicious. And don’t think I’m even about to help you with that lost cause, now.”
“Your mother told us.” Aunt Muriel shook her head. “First, a wolf and now a gargoyle.”
“This whole thing is so stupid.” Kayla paced before them, waving her hands. “You know that, right?”
“Stupid how?”
“We live on one island. Why can’t we be normal, you know, and share the island? Instead of carving out areas.”
Aunt Emma tilted her head. Kayla honed in on her to gain sympathy. “We should share the land as neighbors.”
“Not this again. You know what they’ve done.” Her mother pointed the wooden spoon in her direction, and some of the white mixture fell to the dirt below.
“I know what the elders have told us,” Kayla replied. “But what if they’re not telling the whole story?”
“What on earth are you talking about?” her mother asked.
“Did the tree witches curse the gargoyles?” Kayla asked, scanning from one face to the next for any signs.
“Curse them?” Aunt Muriel raised her brows. “Have you been experimenting with herbs?”
“No. I’m serious.”
“Why would you say that?” her mother asked.
“They think we’ve used magic on them. That it prevented them from having young.”
“And when did we supposedly do this?” Aunt Muriel asked.
“Before the clashes.”
“So that’s why they attacked us?” Aunt Emma asked. “It’s never been clear.”
Kayla’s mother put her hands on her hips. “And where did you get this information from? Your gargoyle friend?”
Her mother skewered her with a glare, but Kayla didn’t back down. “He would be a good source of their side of the story, wouldn’t he?”
“Don’t sass me, Kayla. Consider the source of this skewed information.”
“I am. Since I can’t get a decent explanation from our coven, why wouldn’t I give a reasonable explanation some consideration? We have the potential to create such a curse. I’m asking if someone in our clan actually did.”
“Why would we want to wipe out their clan?” Aunt Muriel asked.
Kayla shrugged. “To claim the isle.”
“Pfft. Don’t be ridiculous,” her mother said.
“So no tree witches that you know of have cursed the gargoyles?”
“Of course not,” her mother said, resuming her stirring.
“Then why were their women unable to bear children?”
Her mother stared at her a long time before answering. “I’m a tree witch, Kayla. Not a psychic.”
Kayla spent the day being monitored by her mother and aunts. She didn’t think she’d ever have a free moment. After hours of this scrutiny, she’d had enough.
“I’m going for a swim,” she said.
“Stay where I can see you,” her mother said.
Kayla rolled her eyes as she walked away, hating being treated like a toddler.
She climbed down the moss-covered craggy rocks and into the clear water. The briskness chilled her right through to her bones until she became accustomed to the temperature. Scores of sea birds soared past descending close to the shore in search of fish. She floated on her back and watched the clouds glide by while her thoughts drifted to Mason.
The idea of not seeing him pained her worse than when she had fallen into brambles, piercing every inch of skin. The thought of never looking into those moss-green eyes, never kissing those full carved lips, or tracing the muscles under his smooth skin, left her with an ache inside. Never having his thick shaft penetrate her with such exquisite pleasure and pain while he peppered her with soft kisses and whispered into her ear—it was unthinkable. Just being near him filled her with such content.
After drying off, she walked to the herb garden, but tended it with a lack of her usual interest. Not being able to see Mason each night filled her with a fear she’d she’d never find joy again.
She’d also miss the concerts with all their vibrancy in her otherwise routine life. A night of music, the energy of the crowd, it provided an excitement that growing up in the coven lacked. Visiting their side of the island had shown her life beyond the forests. A bigger world existed out there, and she wanted to experience it. A world introduced to her by the charismatic guitarist who had captured her heart.
Had he made it home okay? Did he miss her the way she ached for him? The first time she’d seen him on stage, the attraction was purely physical. Since then, it had developed into something more. His protective streak and his concern for her well-being was something no other witch had for her.
If her family was so close-minded that they thought she’d live and die in the trees, cut off from the rest of the world, she’d have to leave the island. If they couldn’t accept whom she loved, she and Mason would have to go somewhere else.
She glanced at the herbs in her hand and discovered an answer to her problem. She cut several more herbs necessary for a potion. One that would make the women sleep long enough so she could escape their watchful eyes. She was running away, leaving the coven. The Highlands, the human cities, it didn’t matter. As long as she was with him.
* * * * *
Mason found no solace while he rested in stone, his mind tormented by thoughts of Kayla. Had they punished her because she’d been with him? They’d dragged her from him, knocked him on his arse, and he couldn’t do anything to stop them. Now he started to see why the gargoyles hated the tree witches so.
No. Don’t think that. Kayla is one, and she is the sweetest creature you’ve ever encountered.
He tried calming techniques to shift into a meditative state, but nothing worked. He had to find a way over to Kayla. His failed attempt earlier meant he needed more help. He had to enlist his brothers. Together, they would find a way into the forests of Northern Caledonia; discover the weakness in the coven’s shield.
But first, he had to tell his brothers about Kayla. And the wolves. They most likely wouldn’t understand. But he didn’t know of another way.
Brothers, I need your help, he communicated to them, interrupting their deep repose.
What is it? Calum replied.
I’ve met a lass.
His brothers hooted within their stone forms.
I knew it, Gavin said. That’s why you’ve been acting all moony lately.
And disappearing after our shows, Lachlan pointed out.
There’s a problem, Mason said. We’re unable to be together.
Why not? Calum asked. Is she human?
No, he answered with caution.
In the Highlands? Gavin added.
No, Mason replied in a lower tone. She’s on the Isle. In the silence that followed, he swore he heard his heart beat through his stone form, no matter how ridiculous the idea.
Finally, Bryce spoke. Is she not a gargoyle?
She is not.
More silence. His insides prickled with uneasiness and he forced himself to remain calm. It was impossible to feel human body traits while in stone so it had to be a trick from his mind.
Which is she—wolf or—tree witch? The scorn in Lachlan’s tone communicated his distaste.
The latter.
You’ve fallen for a tree witch? Bryce’s voice conveyed his disapproval.
Do you know nothing of our history? Lachlan added.
That was from a time long ago, a quarrel between others. It’s time for a new future.
You have gone mad, Lachlan declared. She’s bewitched you.
The wolves have approached us and requested our help. The thinning veil has affected them, especially the youngest, who face more difficulty in resisting the lure of the moon. That’s why they’ve been howling in distress lately.
Witches and wolves? Gavin teased. You dog.
This is serious, Gavin. We must make peace with those who share the isle. We’re more w
elcoming to humans who are strangers to the island than we are to those who share it with us.
And cursed us, Bryce replied.
We don’t know that for sure.
You doubt the elders? Lachlan asked.
No. But I question what hasn’t been shown to be true.
You were young, Mason, Lachlan said. Just two years old. You don’t remember. But it was a bloody time. Much death on all sides. If you want to be with a tree witch, I can’t help you, brother.
Mason paused. In the moment that followed, the others also said they couldn’t help him, even his closest brother, Calum. Their response pierced like daggers from all directions.
I understand, but I have no choice. I love her. And if I can’t be with her here, we must leave the isle.
Their silence extended, accentuated by the faint sounds of waves hitting the shore.
Go in peace, brother, Bryce spoke.
Mason’s chest tightened even in stone. This will be my last show with the Knights of Stone. I leave tonight.
* * * * *
Kayla raced across the moors to the gargoyle forest, knowing every moment she had was measured. She’d never concocted a sleeping potion before, and she didn’t know how much time she had until they awoke. A twinge of guilt pierced her knowing she’d drugged her mother and aunts, but she didn’t know of another way out. The entire coven was close-minded, stuck in the ways of the past, and prejudiced against anyone not like them.
As she reached the edge of the woods, she smiled, thinking of the first time she met Mason there. All those stolen moments since then under the carpet of stars returned, especially the last time they’d met. The rough way he had pulled her hair and slapped her ass had evoked a surprising response—she had enjoyed it, a lot. Even the memory thrilled her and made her blush.
Her steps were hampered by the sack she carried with her belongings. The sky was darkening, and the gargoyles would animate on stage soon. She didn’t want to miss the moment when her stone lover transformed to warm delicious flesh, whose slightest touch could make her quake with need. Trotting the last several hundred feet, she reached the open area where a crowd surrounded the amphitheater. The gargoyle statues were already dressed in their kilts, which meant the show would soon begin.
The full moon hung low in the night sky and was greater in size than usual. Their ancestors had called it the giant moon, explaining it was when the moon was close enough to touch and its effects more pronounced. Mason’s familiar stone silhouette loomed with a magnificent ethereal glow under the spotlight from the heavens above.
Something was in the air that night. Kayla sensed a powerful, magnetic tension that filled her with uneasiness.
She shook her head, casting it off. It was simply the guilt from drugging her family and running away.
The gargoyles sparked with movement, animating with life. She marveled at her lover’s transformation. Once in human form, they picked up their instruments and played.
She tried to catch Mason’s attention through the waving arms of the audience, but his eyes were downcast. Every now and then, they flickered to his left, to the direction of the moors and her home.
Mason’s face remained hardened as if still in stone. The only clues to his state flashed from his eyes, which alternated emoting melancholy and determination.
Her heart thumped. Was he thinking about her? Wondering if he could find a way back to her?
She pushed her way to the front of the stage; she had to let him know she was here.
See me, she willed. I’m right before you.
Seconds pounded like a ticking click before he searched the crowd. Did her message make it through?
When he caught her eyes, he beamed. The smile lit his face, energy must have rippled through his body, and he played with renewed vigor. The crowd sensed it, too, and cheered their appreciation.
* * * * *
She’d made it over to him. How he didn’t know. The dread that had burrowed its way deep into his chest cavity no longer had such a powerful hold.
Mixed emotions vied for dominance during the show. Wondering if Kayla was okay. Wondering how he’d get to her. Lamenting how this was the last show with his brothers, something he’d loved to do.
It couldn’t last forever and they’d known it from the start. It was only a matter of time before government or military figures appeared at their show to investigate inevitable rumors that would spread from person to person. When that happened, Mason and his brothers had planned to bolt into the air and leave the Isle of Stone. If they were separated, they’d meet in their ancestral homeland in the Highlands and figure out their next move from there.
While they had the opportunity to play as gargoyles as the Knights of Stone, they would enjoy every last minute of it.
Mason tried to imprint every detail during this last experience playing here at the gargoyle amphitheater. The pound of the surf wasn’t audible behind them, but still he felt the ocean’s presence behind him like a living thing. One of the things he’d loved about the isle was living beside the sea. The torches on the stage cast a flickering glow as well as a warmth on his skin. The red and purple spotlights highlighted his brothers, but what struck him most was their unique sound. Their rock and roll was unlike any he had heard, echoes of tribal music combined with Calum’s iconic war cries. How’d he’d miss playing with them. How he’d miss them.
And the audience. Although they’d inevitably be the ones who’d reveal their secrets to the world, how he loved their enthusiasm at their concerts. Without them, they’d have no one to play for. Their cheers and shouts energized them, encouraging him and his brothers to play with more ardor and vigor than when they were on their own. Most of all, if they’d never put on these shows, he wouldn’t have met the female that stood out to him in the crowd. The one who he could never keep his eyes off of, especially now.
He smiled at her again, anticipating how he could take her into his arms after the show was over.
A few songs later, Bryce had a drum solo, which gave Mason a chance to regroup. Calum sent a telepathic message. That’s the one, isn’t it?
Aye, Mason replied. No other words were passed between them and Mason picked up the guitar and began to play again.
A few minutes passed before Calum added. I sense a surge of emotions. You do love the lass, don’t you?
I do.
Calum glanced at Kayla several times as he pounded around on stage like a possessed rock star. She doesn’t appear to be evil.
She isn’t. She’s the most extraordinary, kind creature I’ve ever met.
A tree witch?
Yes.
And you’ll leave us to be with her?
I must. Mason’s chest pumped out with love for her as he cemented his choice. He raised the guitar and joined the instrumental interlude. The lead that had settled into his feet earlier dissipated, replaced with a new buoyancy.
Calum joined his brothers as he belted out a scream, joining them in the song of ancient tribal wars on the Highlands. The pounding chorus of the warriors working as one echoed the solidarity of their brotherhood. Mason threw all his energy into the music, drowning out the underlying reminder echoing in his head that this was their last time playing together.
CHAPTER SEVEN
A disturbance rippled through the air around Kayla. She couldn’t place what it was, but something was off in the Isle of Stone.
She caught Mason’s gaze often while he played guitar. Could he sense it, too? She could not discern it from his expression, all emotion seeming to come from throwing his heart into the music. After another song, his eyebrows tightened and he fixed his gaze on her. His worried expression increased her anxiety.
Howls erupted from every direction. The same urgent cries from the wolves when she was with Mason the other night, but now they were closer. Too close. They sounded right outside the amphitheater.
The audience searched around with wonder, giving each other confused looks. Many people aske
d if wolves were part of the show. Others replied they’d never seen them before.
The howling sounded even closer. The gargoyles put down their instruments and straightened, tilting their heads as if to listen. They exchanged glances and nodded to each other.
What the hell was going on? She had to get to Mason and ask him.
Before she even twitched a muscle, a wolf leapt into the crowd and knocked a woman to the ground. A blood stain crept out from her neck. Other wolves followed, attacking the humans. The coppery scent of spilled blood filled the air. People shrieked, running in all directions. Some braver ones tried to pull the wolves from their human prey.
The gargoyles flew from the stage, changing their appearance in mid-air. Their skin changed to a gray hue, its texture hardening in between flesh and stone. Their massive black wings made them appear twice their size, surrounded them like dark warrior angels. Their kilts fluttered with movement as they descended on the wolves.
Kayla’s mouth dropped as Mason fought an enormous gray wolf with gnashing teeth. She ran to him, she had to do something, even though her strength could not compete with that of a gargoyle or wolf shifter.
Think, Kayla, think.
She didn’t have their physical prowess, but she was a skilled witch. She ran through a quick catalog of enchantments she’d learned, ones she’d never had reason to use during her peaceful upbringing.
Her mental cataloging was interrupted by a slash of red erupting from Mason’s shoulder blade. She cried out for him, horrified at the gash revealed as the wolf tore away.
She threw a ball of light and energy at the wolf, without any forethought; a reaction rather than a conscious spell. The force knocked the wolf several feet away from Mason. Stunned, it took a moment to stand on four legs and limp away.
A wolf bounded onto the stage and howled again. The other wolves bent their heads and wailed in what appeared to be a submissive reply, moving to the stage. The remaining humans who hadn’t already fled the area ran, blood streaking down over their skin, bite marks from the wolves’ attack.