“Sleep.” His voice is just above a whisper and his minty breath tickles my ear.
“I can’t.”
“Just close your eyes.”
“I’m afraid.”
“You’re safe, siren. There’s nothing to fear,” he assures, tightening his hold on me.
“That’s not true. I have everything to fear,” I argue.
“It is true. You’re protected. No one can hurt you,” he guarantees.
I close my eyes knowing the promise is deceptive but allowing myself to believe, even briefly, that it could be real. “Okay,” I concede as a spark of hope ignites inside my heart.
“I’ll make all the awful disappear.” My protector vows the quiet promise while rubbing random designs on my lower back with his thumb.
I rest my head on his powerful chest, allowing the echo of his deep breathing to lull me, easing my uncertainties. My hand finds its way over the protector tattoo that binds us through our blood bond. The force hums between us, melting me from the inside as I float away into a dreamless and visionless sleep.
2
New Realities
Reluctantly, my eyes open, dragging me from my deep sleep into reality as I cling to Asher’s peaceful form like a lifeline. Taking advantage of his slumber, I allow myself to watch him while my mind drifts, wondering what it would be like to wake up every morning to his striking face. His eyes flutter for a brief moment, jolting the long dark lashes before they rest again.
Without waking him, I take my fingers and run them over the dark stubble dusting his chin and jawline, cherishing the feel of the prickly hairs. Asher’s plump, kissable lips filter air in and out as he dreams. I frown at my daydream. The truth is, my fantasy will never come true. The realization slices my heart, causing it to bleed out as I release a harsh whimper.
In response, Asher pulls me closer. His breath tickles my hair before he kisses the top of my head again. A tiny smile crosses my lips at the affectionate gesture. Curling into Asher’s side, I vow to relish every moment I can with him. I will be in the now.
He drops his chin toward me and speaks in a hushed voice. “You sleep okay?”
I nod. “Actually, I did. No visions, nightmares, astral projecting or realm jumping.” My response is truthful.
“Good. You needed a peaceful rest,” Asher replies.
“You really did make the awful disappear,” I whisper in awe.
“You can thank me for my awesomeness later.” He grins cockily.
I roll my eyes. “Don’t let this go to your head, gargoyle.”
I can feel Asher’s face tug into his signature sexy smirk as he tightens his hold on me, enjoying our contact before turning to look at the clock and letting out a frustrated growl.
“We’ve been asleep for a few hours. We’re probably going to land soon. It might be a good idea to get up and grab a quick snack before we reach Heathrow,” he offers, unmoving.
“All right,” I agree, not wanting to let him go. I fear the minute I do, all the grief will flood back into me like a tidal wave.
I begin to sit up but he draws me back to him. I look down at his face, questioning him, leaning on one elbow as the other hand lays on his chest over the protector tattoo. I watch his chest rise as he draws in a sharp breath at my touch. His face darkens with something like want.
“Wait,” he rasps through a tight jaw, peering up at me from beneath thick lashes.
My eyes scan his with a shared longing and I part my lips as the butterflies in my stomach take flight with anticipation. Asher sits up, moving his seductive lips closer to mine.
“Eve.” My name softly rolls off his tongue, like a prayer, causing my entire body to flood with need. Gentle hands cup my face as his lips brush across mine in a tease. Once. Twice. On the third touch, they firmly press into mine, devouring me.
With every stroke, I cling tighter to Asher’s shirt for support. Each caress of his lips causes my blood to rush, filling me with a burning desire, making me feel whole. God, I’ve never wanted anyone more than him. It’s like my soul already knows it’s his.
I let out a soft moan at the kiss. The need to be closer to one another overpowers us as he sits up completely, pulling me onto his lap so I’m straddling his legs. My hands move little by little, under his shirt, feeling his warm skin. He growls at my touch. Asher’s thumbs rub the small slit of skin that shows between my shirt and pants as our kiss becomes even more fervent.
It’s as if we’ve become one another’s oxygen. He tightens his grip on my hips, pulling me closer to him so our stomachs are touching. My body is about to convulse from the zealous emotions running through me because the bond is heightening the sensations.
Just as I’m about to pass out from lack of oxygen during our frenzied kiss, Asher slowly pulls away, resting his forehead on mine as we catch our breaths. “I think…that will...hold me over…for a while,” he pants out with his breath. “You?”
I shift on his lap and nod once. It’s all I can manage. Truthfully, I’ll never get enough of Asher. I’ll always want more. I swallow hard, pushing down the disappointment that he stopped when he did, and I focus on inhaling.
He looks at me apologetically as if he’s reading my mind. “If I don’t stop now, I won’t.”
I tip my chin up, watching as he absentmindedly plays with a strand of my hair before leaning over and placing a small kiss on the tip of my nose.
“Your eyes are glowing again.” I smile.
“That would be your fault, siren,” he offers seductively. His line of vision flickers to my lips.
“Don’t look at me like that or we will never leave this room.” I whine and purposely shift again on his lap, causing a delicious friction between our bodies.
He closes his eyes and moans. “I’m in so much trouble. You play dirty. It’s all I can do not to throw you down and take you right now.”
My eyes widen in surprise. “Asher St. Michael, are you saying my virtue isn’t safe near you?”
He looks at me with dark, hooded lids. “Miss Collins, your virtue is the ONLY thing that isn’t safe around me.”
I offer a sly smirk. “Then I better guard it with my life.” I begin to move off his lap.
He releases a raw, throaty sound and holds me in place. “Don’t you dare. It’s mine, just not today.”
Asher watches my reaction for a moment before grabbing my hips and lifting me off. He gently places me next to him before planting the softest kiss to my swollen lips. “We should meet with the clan. See what the plans are for when we land.”
“Okay,” I reply with a sad smile.
He just stares at me with an odd expression on his face.
“What?”
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He brushes my lips one last time with his. I melt into the final kiss.
After we each freshen up, we make our way back to the cabin area where the rest of the family is camped out, snacking and talking. I head over to the couch and sit next to Abby. She offers me a bright smile, along with a mug of dark chocolate hot cocoa and a bowl of mini marshmallows.
“Thanks,” I mumble, nibbling on a marshmallow.
“Were you able to get some rest?” she questions with concern laced in her voice.
“Yeah, a little,” I offer, smiling.
“Good.” She takes my hand and squeezes. “You’ve got some color back in your face.”
Heat rises to my cheeks, knowing the color is from my kissing session with Asher and not the sleep. Of course, at that moment, Callan lifts his head and looks me over before smiling knowingly. My heart kicks against my rib cage, causing me to feel the way I did the time Callan caught Asher and I in the library, making out. Sensing my unease, Asher speaks up, changing topics.
“So what’s the plan?” Asher sits down on the other side of me, with his thigh touching mine, sipping on his cocoa and digging his hand into the bowl of my marshmallows. Why does he always do that?
He catches my displeased glance and feign
s innocence. “They taste better from your bowl.”
I roll my eyes. Secretly, I love when he eats my food. Smiling like a goofball, I turn back to the group. Callan and Abby return my smile but Keegan and McKenna look between Asher and I with disapproval.
“We should be reaching Heathrow shortly. I have an SUV in the hanger waiting for us. We’ll take it to La Gargouille Manor in Wiltshire,” Keegan answers.
“Wait, I thought the manor in Massachusetts was named La Gargouille?” I ask, confused.
“Here we go again,” McKenna huffs out. Nice to see our relationship hasn’t evolved any over transatlantic waters. I glare at her in annoyance.
“It is, Eves. Our father named both his manors after the legendary dragon,” Callan explains, pulling my gaze away from McKenna to him. “The one in England is technically called La Gargouille Manor, Wiltshire.”
“Got it.” I go to grab more marshmallows but my bowl is empty. I give a spiteful look to Asher. He bats his baby blues and presents me with a full bowl. I take it eagerly and turn so he can’t put his dirty mitts in it. His deep laugh causes my stomach muscles to clench.
“Is Michael planning to join us this evening or tomorrow?” McKenna asks Keegan.
At the archangel’s name, both Asher and I tense, reminded of our recent warning from Michael reiterating our platonic roles and forewarning us about the consequences of an inappropriate and intimate relationship.
“Tomorrow. He wanted to let Eve get settled before he made an appearance,” Keegan replies.
“How far away is your home from the airport?” I inquire in a quick subject switch.
“About one hundred and seventy-four kilometers,” Keegan responds without looking at me.
My eyes dart to Abby for help. “Um, I was brought up on the imperial system not the metric system. A little assistance for the American,” I tease.
“About one hundred and eight miles,” she offers, watching my blank face before rolling her eyes, “or one hour.” The exquisite sentinel giggles at my lack of metric unit comprehension.
Damn gargoyles. “Thanks,” I say while throwing a piece of marshmallow at her before she returns with her own candy toss. Our momentary food fight is cut short by the in-flight announcement.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re making our final approach to Heathrow Airport and will begin our descent shortly. In preparation for landing, please make sure your seat belt is securely fastened until we are safely on the ground in London,” the pilot says as the crew begins to tidy up the cabin and we all buckle in.
A few moments later, the pilot announces our arrival and the cabin crew opens the door for us to exit the jet. We make our way down the stairs and toward the large Cadillac Escalade with dark tinted windows while Keegan and Callan help load our bags into the vehicle.
I shoot off a quick text to my Aunt Elizabeth letting her know we’ve arrived safe and sound. I expect her response time will be slow, in part because of the time difference and partially because my quirky aunt just learned how to text on her iPhone a few weeks ago. Asher wore her down until she finally gave in and allowed him to teach her. God bless his patience.
Since this is my first time in England, I sit back and remain quiet. Keegan drives out of the airport toward Wiltshire while I watch the scenery roll by. The weather is similar to Massachusetts. Cold, damp, and dreary. Even though the car temperature reads three degrees Celsius, it’s actually about thirty-seven degrees Fahrenheit. I draw my body inward, trying to keep warm.
“Cold?” Asher asks, moving closer.
I offer a small smile and slight nod while watching London go by as we get onto the M5. Part of me is excited to be here. However, the other half is saddened Aria isn’t here to experience it with me. The guilt starts to spread in my chest as my hand massages the area, attempting to ease the ache.
Asher notices my anguish and makes an effort to distract me. “The manor isn’t too far from Salisbury where Stonehenge is located. I’ll show it to you while you’re here.”
I force a smile. “That would be cool.”
He studies me, our bond alerting him I’m faking contentment. “It’ll get easier. The sorrow will lessen with time and you’ll begin to heal. I promise.”
“I know.” I return my gaze to the grey landscape outside the window. “Why are you called the London clan of gargoyles if you live in Wiltshire?” I need a subject change to divert my thoughts.
Asher concedes to the topic switch. “Our main residence is our building of flats in London.”
My eyes shift to him, mouth agape. “You own an entire building of apartments?”
He nods once. “Each of us live in our own place. Keegan and Kenna reside on the third floor, Callan and Abby stay on the fourth, and I have my own flat on the fifth floor. We have a guest dwelling for visiting clans on the second and the first floor is for Royal Gargoyle Council of Protectors business. It’s mainly an office space with a conference room we use as a general meeting spot.”
“Talk about property management,” I say in astonishment. The house in Massachusetts would be more than enough in my book since my aunt’s entire home can fit into their kitchen.
Asher just shrugs. “Most of the gargoyles in England prefer to stay close to the city and when my father first relocated from France, he established the clan’s base in London, so that’s where we ended up living. At that time, each family had their own floor. When our parents didn’t return from their business trip, we took over the building and separated the flats this way.”
I sympathize, knowing from experience how the loss of your parents affects you. I reach my hand out and grasp his, offering him encouragement. He returns the gesture with a genuine smile.
“So how’d you end up in Wiltshire then?” I glance over at him.
“We didn’t move to Wiltshire until my mother discovered she was pregnant with Callan. Keegan and I were both born in Manhattan, though we spent much of our younger childhood in and out of London. It was her wish for us to grow up in the country, surrounded by gardens. So when we weren’t in New York or traveling, we split our time between London and Wiltshire. Now we just use the manor as a vacation home, or safe haven, if needed.”
“How come we don’t just stay in London then?” I ask in confusion.
“It’s currently not secure to take you to the flat in London,” Keegan says casually, reminding me we’re not alone in the car. With Asher, it’s like I have tunnel vision.
My eyes move back toward the window and notice we’re coming up on another magnificent estate. Asher’s hand takes mine. He rubs his thumb in slow circles over my knuckles before tilting his head to me. “Welcome to La Gargouille Manor – Wiltshire.” His tone is proud.
“Wow,” I say breathlessly. “This is…incredible.”
“It’s a fourteenth century medieval manor. My mother had the interior décor and structure modernized but the exterior and formal Cotswold gardens remain intact and original,” Asher explains with pride.
Keegan stops the Escalade in front of two wrought iron gates, each adorned with the family dragon symbol. It reminds me of the house in the States, oddly setting off a pang of longing to be back there. As soon as he enters the code and completes the fingerprint scan, the large doors open, allowing us access to the mile-long driveway, lined by strong and exquisite white birch trees.
As we make our way to the estate, my breath halts at its simple but mature beauty. The facade of the home showcases intricate taupe stonework in various shades of creams and browns, which renders the manor warm and inviting.
Ivy grows on parts of the residence, strategically outlining the windows as if intentionally highlighting them so your eye is directed to that section of the structural design. There are several bay windows in the front, accentuating the multiple gables on the roof. I sigh internally. It’s magnificent.
Keegan parks the vehicle near the expansive garage as we all prepare to exit. Asher turns to me, motioning his head toward the monstrosity of a
‘vacation’ home. “Come on. I want to show you the inside and introduce you to Fiona,” he says with a hint of mystery.
My brows pull together. “Fiona?”
“Our housekeeper. She’s also a panther shape shifter,” Abby throws out with a smirk.
My mouth hangs open, stunned. I need to close it but I can’t. “Um, o-okay.”
Asher squeezes my hand and grins, clearly amused at my reaction. “She was also our nanny when we were growing up. Since we’re not here very often, Fiona lives here and oversees the residence for us. She’s a kitten. You’ll really like her, siren.”
I just nod. No matter how many supernatural creatures I’ve met over the past few weeks, I’m still processing the fact these legendary beings exist. He rolls his eyes and laughs at me, pulling me out of the car.
We walk up to the iron door and before Asher can even open it, a short, round, older woman flings the heavy door open and snatches him in a tight hug, forcing him to let go of my hand and reciprocate her squeeze.
“Hello, luv,” she says with a warm English accent. She backs away and cups his cheeks in a motherly way, taking him in.
Asher beams at her. “It’s so good to see you, Fiona.” His voice is full of admiration and love.
Her yellow-green eyes twinkle at his greeting then move toward me. “Ye must be Eve. ‘Tis luvely to make yer acquaintance, dear.” She ushers us into the house.
“Thank you,” I reply shyly as I look around, taking it all in.
We’re in a long, bright entranceway. The walls are a sunshine yellow accented with white crown molding, emphasizing the high ceilings. There are light hardwood floors throughout and multiple stone tables with plants on them. Asher guides me down the hall as I hear Fiona greet McKenna, Keegan and Abby with just as much fondness.
Once in the foyer, I notice the staircase to the left and an open area to the right, leading to a sunroom, which overlooks the gardens. Contrary to the home in the States, which is made of dark stone and woods, this home is light and airy.
“Fi-Fi,” Callan announces like a child who’s found his favorite toy. We turn to see him pick up the older woman in an embrace and twirl her around. His eyes light with worship.
Restraint (The Revelation Series Book 2) Page 2
