Stone Passions Trilogy (Stone Passion 1, 2, & 3)

by A C Warneke

  “You’ve already condemned me, Armand,” she said solemnly, her eyes so much older and wiser than a mere thirty-one years. “What could I possibly say that will change your mind?”

  “Tell me you didn’t have sex with him,” he pleaded irrationally, desperately. Much to his chagrin, his cock swelled in arousal at being so close to her. He wanted her. “Tell me that I am still encased in stone and this is just a dream, that I will wake up and you will be waiting for me.”

  Holding his eyes, she turned her head just enough to kiss his palm before stepping out of his reach, “Tell me you didn’t give your nights to a stranger so you didn’t have to give them to me.”

  There was a core of steel to her that hadn’t been there before, an inner strength that radiated throughout her entire being giving her a stillness that most people her age lacked. She had the presence of someone who had experienced a great deal and survived it all. There was also an air of isolation that surrounded her, something he had seen when she was a child but now it was almost impenetrable. She was incredibly self-contained, watching the world but no longer participating. How could he see so much and still feel as if he didn’t know her? “You’re not the same Ferris that clung to me when I lost my nights.”

  With a sad smile, she shook her head no in agreement. “It’s what happens when you have to go on without the man you love.”

  He winced at her words, desperate to believe her words. But he couldn’t get the image of her and Apollo out of his head and so he tormented himself by what he could no longer have. “Ferris….”

  “Did you mean it when you told me you loved me?” she asked softly, looking at him with those turquoise green eyes that reached into the depths of his being and made him feel whole.

  Except now he saw Apollo’s laughing as the god laid claim to everything that Armand could have had but threw away. His eyes scanned her face as he pressed his lips together, no longer knowing the woman she had become, how much she had changed. If Apollo were around would she even spare Armand a second glance? Perhaps this new maturity was to mask her misery over Apollo’s absence, perhaps her lusty welcoming had been desperation to hide her missing lover. Finally, Armand answered, “I meant it at the time.”

  She wasn’t able to hide the cringe that briefly twisted her expression, making him feel like an ass for not being able to tell her he loved her still. Licking her lips, she softly asked, “Is there any hope for us?’

  He looked at her, his soul screaming at him to take her into his arms and kiss her until the pain was buried so damn deep it would never touch him again. But the pain would always be there because he would know she slept with Apollo. He hadn’t wanted the burden of living up to her expectations but not having her was going to kill him. He was going to have to live a life encased in ice once more. Slowly, he shook his head, his eyes bleak, as he rasped, ‘No.”

  “Then this is it?” she asked. At his hesitant nod, her eyes glistened with tears but she didn’t let any fall. Catching her lower lip between her teeth, she swallowed audibly and nodded her head in resignation. She took a couple of shaky breaths before she rasped, “I guess this is goodbye.”

  “Goodbye, Ferris,” he managed to choke out, his body rebelling against his words.

  A soft sob broke through her lips and her lips trembled as she whispered, “Goodbye, my love.”

  He still held the bottle of bourbon in his hand as she walked away. She stopped for only a moment when she reached the door but he was too busy drowning in his own despair to call her back. Looking away from her because he couldn't bear watching her leave, he regretted it almost immediately.

  Chapter 16

  The Battle is Over and the War is Lost

  A fog wrapped itself around Ferris as she stumbled out of the door of her studio wondering what the hell just happened. Armand hadn’t been angry, he hadn’t raged, he hadn’t even been that cruel. In the end he had simply been… defeated. Had he been any of those other things she would have stayed and fought with him but she couldn’t fight when he had already conceded the battle.

  If she understood what held him back then she would know how to fight for him.

  Or maybe she should stop trying to pursue a relationship he didn’t want, stop trying to force him to love her. Maybe he wasn't her destiny and she was just a fool.

  Unable to continue walking on rubbery legs, she leaned against the wall and placed her hand over her bleeding heart as the tears she had been holding back spilled down her cheeks. If she loved him, truly loved him, she had to let him go.

  “Hey, Fer,” a voice called to her through the fog. She looked up and saw Raphe walking towards her, the smile fading from his face as he took in her appearance. He quickened his pace until he was standing in front of her, his hands chaffing up and down her arms. “What’s wrong, Ferris?”

  Her breath hitched in her chest as she stared at his warm, compassionate eyes and more tears fell. “He hates me… no, it’s worse than that. He doesn’t feel anything for me.”

  Raphe pulled her into a hug, resting his chin against the top of her head as he smoothed his hands along her spine. “Ah, Ferris, do you want me to kick his ass for you?”

  A choked giggle escaped at Raphe’s offer and she tilted her head back to see him smiling down at her. Cupping his cheek in her hand, she shook her head no, “He’s five hundred years older than you, Raphe. He’d have you pinned to the ground and begging for mercy before you even threw your first punch.”

  “I should have ignored Leo and Michael and carved his heart out all of those years ago,” he grumbled darkly, his eyes almost militant with sincere regret.

  Startled by that revelation, Ferris looked at him, “Pardon?”

  Color seeped into his cheeks as he looked away and cleared his throat, ‘Um, nothing?”

  “Raphael, what did the three of you do?” she asked, stepping out of his arms and putting her hands on her hips.

  A slight smile curved his lips as he stared down at her, outweighing her by at least a hundred pounds of pure muscle. He chucked her on the chin, “It’s nothing, Ferris. I was just blowing off a little steam. Leo and Michael stopped me before too much damage was done.”

  Her eyes widened in her face and her lips parted with a gasp, “How much damage?”

  “A few scratches,” he shrugged, running his hand through his hair and avoiding her penetrating gaze. “They healed by the next morning, Ferris.”

  She shook her head with disappointment in her gargoyles. “It wasn’t your place.”

  Anger flashed in his purple eyes and he leaned into her space, his face a hair’s breadth away from hers, “No, Ferris, it is our place. You were ours to protect and we failed you. And then you closed yourself off from us, from your family, for years, Ferris. You keep everything bottled up inside, pretending everything is okay when all of us can see that you’re not okay. Hell, you had two kids that you didn’t tell anyone about! So it is our place.”

  Her eyes nearly bugged out of her face at his impassioned tirade, so similar to the one her mother had given her. By the end of his speech he was panting with fury, his cheeks burning with vivid red splotches. All at once he seemed to run out of steam and with a sigh he rested his forehead against hers. “You’re not an easy person to love, Ferris.”

  His words were like a physical blow and she sucked in her gut as if punched. But then he scowled, grumbling, “That came out wrong. It’s very easy to love you but it’s very hard to get close to you.”

  Her forehead crinkled in a frown as she absorbed his words, her heart thudding madly in her chest. Perhaps he had a valid point but did he really have to wonder why she kept so much to herself? The one person she shared herself with completely rejected her. How was she supposed to deal? Patting his chest, she smiled up at him, “I promise to do better.”

  “Jesus, Ferris,” he growled, stepping from her and staring down at her in incomprehension. “I’m not the pathetic Raphael you have to protect anymore. I’ve grown up, in ca
se you haven’t noticed. I want you to look at me.”

  Slowly, she raised her eyes and saw all the way to his impassioned soul. Placing her fingers over his lips, she whispered, “Please don’t say anything you’ll regret.”

  “I’ve regretted not saying anything for too long,” he breathed, his words hot against the skin of her fingertips. Closing his eyes in pain, he kissed her fingers then pushed himself away from her. Without looking at her, he turned and walked away, his shoulders hunched, his tread heavy. Ferris watched him go with regret. She loved him, but not the way he wanted.

  The situation was not lost on her.

  She had always assumed Raphe had offered her his nights because he drew the short straw; and now she wasn’t so sure. Absent-mindedly, she turned and slowly made her way to the roof where she would be able to think.

  Stepping onto the roof, the balmy air washing over her, she crossed to the place where Armand usually sat. Sitting on the ledge, her feet dangling fourteen stories above the city streets, she stared out into the night, seeing the creatures that were slowly becoming more comfortable without the veil, seeing the humans that were still wary. Her grandmother had been right: humans were a dying race, at least pure humans were.

  The structure of society was changing, the old foundations disappearing as even older foundations came to the surface. It was becoming the world that Ferris grew up in. As a human who had straddled the line she knew that it was not a world that was comfortable. Everything had changed when the veil was lifted but the repercussions would be felt for decades, centuries, for both humans and the supernatural creatures.

  And she had demanded Armand take the biggest leap of all when she wanted him to give her his nights.

  Had he ever loved her?

  Closing her eyes, letting the warm breeze play over her face, she let the memories of their time together wash over her, feeling the warmth of being with him fill her. She had thought he had loved her. Was it all an illusion? Were her memories just fantasy? A story she told herself to make living without him bearable?

  No, he had loved her. He still loved her but he shut her out.

  There was a slight suction and a silent pop as Fray pulled himself from her back. The golden dragon’s claws dug into her skin as he crawled around her body and skittered up her arm to settle on her shoulder. He butted his head against her cheek with affection, making her smile. “I want to understand, Fray.”

  “Understand what, Dragon-Mate?” he asked in his deep, velvet rough voice.

  “What Armand is going through,” she answered softly, watching an ethereal carriage being pulled by a dozen white unicorns, their golden horns glimmering in the city light. It was a beautiful sight that was becoming more and more common, as evidenced by the lack of gawkers on the street below. “What holds him back?”

  Fray was silent for a long time and when she looked at him he was studying her with his ancient jeweled eyes. His body expanded with his breath as he softly asked, “Do you trust me?”

  “Of course,” she said without hesitation. Fray was her Dragon-Mate and she trusted him with her life. And had.

  After another shuddering breath, he demanded, “Stand up.”

  She scrambled to her feet, wiping the grit from her backside as she waited for Fray to continue. A stronger breeze blew and she almost lost her balance but she managed to right herself at the last moment. With a weak laugh, she murmured, “Whoa, that was close! I almost fell over the edge.”

  When Fray didn’t join in on the laugh, she looked at him. He was staring at her with those sapphire eyes and her ribs tightened around her heart and she found it difficult to take a breath. Shaking her head, she whispered, “No.”

  “Fall, Ferris,” he said softly.

  “Fray.” Her voice was a mere breath.

  “Just fall.”

  Looking out over the tops of the building, the lights of the city blurring together behind her tears, she took a breath. Her eyes slid shut as she warred with her trust in Fray and her fear of falling.

  She didn’t want to die and if she willingly fell even the goddess she became wouldn't be able to save her.

  Armand stared at the door that Ferris had just stepped through and the world lost all of its color. After spending days tearing his room apart he thought he had torn her from his heart. But one moment in her presence and he realized she was still firmly enmeshed in his soul, she would always be in his soul. Frozen in place, he tried to tell himself that he was better off without her but he felt empty inside. It didn’t matter that she didn’t have any portraits of him in her studio because without her his life was just a blank canvas anyway.

  Taking a shuddering breath, he reminded himself that he had existed before Ferris came into his life and upset his entire world and he would exist long after she was gone. If only he could remember how to stuff his fickle heart back into the block of ice that had made living bearable. Or he could suck up his pride and go after her, risk everything for the chance to be with her.

  Absently, he rubbed his sternum, frowning at the paintings that covered her work space. Why wasn’t his portrait there?

  “What have you done?” an angry voice bellowed. Armand turned his head and saw Michael standing in the doorway, his brilliant green eyes flashing, his pale blond hair standing on end.

  Taking a drink of the bourbon, he avoided Michael’s accusatory glare and growled, “Nothing.”

  “You’re such a selfish bastard,” Michael spat, venom oozing from every single pore on his body. He crossed the room and got right in Armand’s face, meeting his older brother eye to eye. “You don’t deserve her.”

  Armand chuckled, but it sounded hollow, just like he felt inside. Drinking from the bottle, the burning of the alcohol not touching him, he sneered, “Don’t tell me you’re in love with her, too.”

  Michael huffed, “I’m not in love with her but I do love her. She’s Ferris; all of us love her.”

  Armand rolled his eyes, smirking at his younger brother. “Whatever.”

  The fist came out of nowhere, connecting with Armand’s jaw and sending him flying backwards, crashing into a stack of canvases. His teeth snapped together, sending shards of white light into his brain and making him black out for a moment or two. Shaking his head, he glared up at the blond gargoyle and growled, “Don’t. Ever. Hit. Me. Again.”

  “You’re pathetic,” Michael sneered, pacing back and forth like a caged lion. “You gave your nights up to a stranger and then came back and let her fall in love with you. Didn’t you think about what she would go through once you left?”

  Armand stared up at the young gargoyle and blinked his eyes as he worked his sore jaw back and forth with his hand. His brain was still feeling the after effects of the hit and so he dumbly watched his brother continue with his tirade, his own thoughts trampling through his head. His brother’s words did make sense for if Ferris was that upset when he left her then that would explain why his paintings weren’t there. With her tender heart she probably put them in storage because looking at them every day would be too painful. At least, that was what he would do.

  After the whole Katrina fiasco he didn’t even speak her name for a hundred years after he awoke from his stone slumber. What he felt for Ferris was infinitely stronger than anything he had felt for the pretty Kat. Absently rubbing his jaw, he nodded to himself in satisfaction that maybe he wasn’t a blank canvas, just one stored away.

  “Are you listening to me?” Michael’s voice cut through his thoughts.

  “Of course,” he mumbled distractedly, pushing himself off the floor and to his feet. Dazed, he looked around and saw the nearly empty bottle of bourbon on the floor next to where he had landed.

  “Any one of us would have given her our nights,” Michael continued, his words finally reaching Armand’s muddled brain. “Raphe offered on more than one occasion.”

  The words caused a haze a red to descend over his eyes and his hands curled into fists, ready to thrash any of the brothers
who made the offer. Michael’s mocking laughter shook him out of his rage, “What did you expect, Armand? That she grow old and die an old maid waiting for you to wake from your stone prison? If it weren’t for father falling in love with her you would have woken up and had maybe a handful of years with her before she was too old for this mortal world.”

  The thought of a world without Ferris in it was a hot poker to his heart and he physically recoiled backwards, clutching his gut to keep his intestines from spilling out. Michael continued taunting him, “She spent years trying to find a solution, to find a way to stay young enough to accept your gift when you returned to the land of the living.” Michael huffed out a wry laugh, “She would have been so happy being a fucking gargoyle and you turned your back on her.”

  “I didn’t want to hurt her,” Armand said lamely. “I never wanted to hurt her.”

  “Then you should have made her a gargoyle,” Michael growled. “Because when you went away something happened to Ferris and we lost her, too.”

  Armand’s head whipped around at that and he caught the bewildered expression on Michael’s face as the younger gargoyle shook his head. Seeing Armand’s murderous expression, Michael let out a huff of laughter, “Not that way, you idiot. She just sort of… turned away from us, from the Castle. She moved out and created a.. human life for herself. And Ajreis, of course. That little fucker went everywhere with her, him and Marick.

  “Hell, she only recently moved back to the Castle because the little imp is prancing around in his new human suit with his mate,” Michael snickered. Gesturing to the studio, he asked, “Why do you think her studio is in such disarray? She has far more paintings than ten years warrant.”

  Unable to help himself, Armand asked, “Where is the portrait she did for her art class before I left?”

  Michael choked on the bitter laughter he was obviously trying to suppress, “That behemoth has a special place of honor in her secondary studio.”