“You’re tempting danger to come your way.” The words were a low rasp, the brogue rolling through her as delicious and comforting as a hot toddy on a cold winter’s night. “Beasts would gladly feast on your flesh.” He stepped closer, peering at her.
“Beasts?” she repeated. She stepped back and searched the woods. The biggest animal that lived in there were the red deer and they were harmless. The only threats to her kind on the island were the wolf shifters and the species before her now, the gargoyles.
He cocked his head, examining her. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”
He ran a finger over her shoulder and down her arm, the unexpected movement leaving her breathless.
“Come with me.”
The sultry voice called to her, and she fought to make sense of it through her trepidation. “Protect me from what?”
“The wolves. Can’t you hear them in the distance?”
“They’ll stay in their territory.” Her shaky voice betrayed her attempt to convince herself as well as him.
He stood straighter, studying her. “What are you doing out here alone?”
She raised her chin. “I’m going home.”
He blinked at her several times before responding. “Home? On the Isle of Stone?” His voice rose an octave with obvious surprise. He strode over to the ball of light and picked it up, examining it with curiosity. It had dimmed without her energy fueling it, but still cast a warm glow. He tossed it to her.
She bit her lip. After he heard her answer, he might flee from her, leaving her to her fate. Why had she stayed out so late tonight, inviting danger? “The other side of the moors.”
He tilted his head, watching her through piercing blue eyes. “The Forests of Northern Caledonia are on the other side of the moors.”
“Aye.”
His eyes widened, staring at her without blinking. “Does that mean you’re a—tree witch?”
She nodded, averting his inquisitive gaze. Her heart pounded. Now that he knew who she was, would he give in to the blood thirst she’d been warned about? She scanned the ground for a rock or stick to use to defend herself. Nothing was within reach.
“A native, not a visitor,” he spoke under his breath.
She raised her chin and met his eyes. “Aye, I live on the island.”
“I’ve never met a tree witch before.” His voice held a twinge of awe. He stepped closer and sniffed the air around her. “Your scent is different from the humans.”
A tingling running through her body overrode her anxiety. “Like what?”
“The wilderness—and wildflowers.”
Energy sparkled in the space between their bodies; they stood closer than they’d ever been. Having the guitarist she’d admired on the stage so near affected her so she was unable to think straight. Even if he was a gargoyle.
His brows furrowed, a line separated them. “Why would you breach into our territory?” he demanded. “You know the delineation that separates our land.”
Her breathing came out more ragged. “I—uh—wanted to hear you play. I was curious,” she continued in an effort to explain her risky actions to herself as well as to him. “All sorts of rumors have spread throughout the coven about the gargoyle musicians playing human rock and roll.”
“The witches have heard about our concerts?”
“Aye.” Shuffling her feet, she added, “I wanted to hear it for myself. I’ve had so many questions about it. How did you learn to play it? We’re so secluded here on the island.”
He watched her with a steady gaze before replying. “My brothers and I fly at night. Visit nearby cities. Edinburgh, London, Dublin. We blend in as humans and slip into their clubs undetected. Having been to many shows, we got instruments several years ago and learned to play.”
“You travel from the island,” she said with wonderment.
He ran his hands over his chin. “You’ve been to see us more than once. Risking it. I’ve seen you.” He leaned so close her eyes fluttered involuntarily. “I’ve watched you.”
“I’ve come a few times,” she admitted.
“Why?”
“I like it.” she replied. “I enjoy listening to your music.” She stood straighter and declared, “One day I’ll visit other lands. Will you tell me about them?”
He appraised her, fixing his gaze on her face and then raking it down her body. Although covered in a belted leather tunic, she tingled all over, feeling naked and vulnerable.
“You know that’s forbidden,” he said with a steady gaze. “Our kinds are not supposed to cross into each other’s land, let alone interact.”
“You won’t tell anyone, will you?” She peered up with wide eyes she hoped would appeal to a sympathetic part of him.
He uttered a tsking sound. “You’re a fool. You could get yourself killed if you keep this up.”
He didn’t say he’d reveal her transgression, but didn’t say he’d hide it either. Something in his tone made her relax. She swallowed the lump in her throat and licked her parched lips. “What are you doing in the forest?”
“What I must do.” He nodded his head and peered through still wise eyes.
“I don’t understand.”
“I can’t let a woman walk alone unprotected through the woods.”
“You’re going to—escort me?” She pointed at her chest.
“Aye.”
Her head throbbed with confusion. The creature who she’d been warned about her entire life did not exhibit a flicker of animosity or bloodthirsty rage. In fact, he was trying to protect her.
Or was it a ruse to get her to trust him? She considered her options. If she ran from him, he could reach her in seconds.
Her heart thumped louder. “From what?” She glanced to the northern direction of the island and furrowed her brows. “The wolf shifters?”
“I didn’t mean that earlier. I was trying to scare you.”
“Why?”
“I’d planned on seducing you.” He stared at her without blinking. “Before I knew you were a tree witch.”
Her imagination soared with the idea of the seduction, only to crash down.
“But something isn’t right,” he added. “We can hear the anguish in the wolves’ howling.”
She pictured the wolves she’d only seen a handful of times in her lifetime. Beautiful creatures with fur ranging from pure white, silvery-gray, to midnight black. In human form, they were as captivating. Intelligent, wide eyes and thick lustrous hair. They lived secluded to the northern part of the island. Yet they were still wolves and had sharp canine teeth with the power to tear flesh. She’d seen the remains of rabbit and deer they had caught and shuddered to think of the damage they could inflict on her skin.
She swallowed. “Do you think they’ll attack?”
“No blood has been spilled since the clans divided the lands twenty-five years ago. But something isn’t right. We can sense it.”
“Sense what?”
He didn’t answer. “Follow me.”
The gargoyle brought his wings in closer to his body as he walked a path through the trees, allowing her a moment to study him from behind. The wings retracted, sinking into a point in his back until they were no longer visible, revealing bronzed shoulders, sculpted shoulder blades, and a tapered waist. She glanced down to fixate on his buttocks. The pleasing curve under his kilt made her wonder if they were as finely carved as the rest of him. Her line of vision descended, lingering on the protruding muscles in his calves.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
“Mason.”
“Kayla.”
The wolves howled in the distance, and she lurched forward, clinging to one of his biceps. When he chuckled, she turned to face him. His teeth were even and white, not menacing.
“It’s all right,” he soothed her, running a hand over her hair. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Come here.” He opened his roped, muscular arms, welcoming her in. “The wolves are far off in the distance. Nowhere close. An
d remember—they haven’t attacked anyone for decades.”
Kayla sank against his chest, grateful for his protection and unable to resist the allure of his embrace. His scent filled her nose, intoxicating her with a mix of the outdoors, the remnant of perspiration from the concert, and heady masculinity. His wild musky aroma sent shivers of awareness through her. She brushed her cheek against his hard chest. A man of stone.
“We need to move.”
She moved away from his warm chest with reluctance. Not only had she trespassed into the gargoyles’ land, but she was wrapped in one’s embrace. Unthinkable. Forbidden. If the elder witches knew, if her mother saw… Yet being in his arms provided a protective warmth that chased her fears away.
“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 stole 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 returned. 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. Aye, 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.
Knights of Stone: Mason (Highland Gargoyles Book 1) Page 2
