Blood. It tasted so sweet. It filled Creed’s mouth and he swallowed. He bit deeper and got more of it. His fangs were locked into Angel. She was holding him but she didn’t scream or try to fight him off. She felt so damn good. Too good. So right. He swallowed again. His dick flexed and he groaned as more of his semen shot inside her. His entire body tingled and goose bumps ran down his limbs.
His ability to process thought returned—and he realized what he’d done.
His fangs were buried in the crook of Angel’s shoulder. It was her blood he’d taken.
He opened his eyes and forced his jaws to part, releasing her. The sight of bright red marring her skin and the drops of her blood on the bedding horrified him.
He lifted his head a little and saw that one of his hands gripped her shoulder, holding her in place. His claws were extended but hadn’t pierced her skin. The gray tint to his fingers and the texture change was unmistakable.
He arched away from her more and the side of one of his wings brushed across the bedspread.
He turned his gaze to stare at her face. Her eyes were closed and a little blood reddened her bottom lip and the skin just under it. He twisted his head, staring at where she’d bitten him. Her human teeth had left tiny indents to show where she’d clamped her mouth. It wasn’t more than a little welling of blood, but she’d bitten him too. It might have been what triggered him to do the same.
She murmured something and he looked back at her face. Her eyes opened and a small smile curved her lips. “Wow.”
He was in shock. That’s all she had to say? She wasn’t turning deathly white as understanding of what he’d done dawned on her. He expected her to scream or perhaps try to beat at him with her fists in anger. Her smile did fade a little as she studied his face with more alertness. A confused look surfaced, and she let go of his back to touch the side of his face.
“You’re partially shelled.” She just seemed to accept it when she smiled again and slid her hand back to his ear, playing with his hair with her fingertips. “It’s okay.”
It wasn’t. Nothing would ever be okay again. He flexed his wings hard, the panic that seized him helping. The force of movement when he flapped them sharply jerked him back and off the bed. He hit the low ceiling, pain exploding in the back of his head from the rock. He dropped into a crouch, landing on one knee and bracing his hands as he shook off the pain.
“Creed?”
He looked at her, watching Angel sit up on the bed. She appeared surprised, and then she frowned. She rolled a little, crawling toward the end of the bed.
“Why did you do that? Did you just hit your head? Or were those your wings? I heard that thump.” She glanced up at the ceiling he’d slammed into, then down at him.
His rage exploded. It was hotter than hell, seeming to ignite his body into literal flames. He felt his skin hardening, cooling despite what was happening inside him. He didn’t fight the change. He needed to completely shell his body to keep him locked into place or he might do something catastrophic.
Angel almost fell out of bed as she scrambled toward him. His vision locked on her and everything turned into shades of black and white. She was naked, her beautiful breasts a sight he couldn’t unsee, nor the fact that the blood on her shoulder had trailed lower, red, thin rivulets from where he’d bitten her.
She rushed at him and dropped down in front of him on her knees. It probably hurt since he hadn’t done much with the flooring besides toss down a thin carpet over the rock. She grabbed his face with both hands, a fearful look in her eyes now. He closed his eyelids at the last second.
“Creed? What’s wrong?” Now there was panic in her voice.
He couldn’t answer her. The burning inside him hurt. The cool exterior of his body seemed to contain it though. He tried to shut down his emotions. He needed to. Angel could get hurt if he didn’t. The walls around them would smash and crack if he threw himself at them now. The entire damn cavern that had been chosen for a guardian to live inside might collapse on top of her.
“Creed? Talk to me. Tell me what to do!”
Her voice had risen and he knew the sound of fear. He didn’t blame her one bit. She should be terrified. He shelled his body more firmly, trying to block out the sensation of her touch. It dimmed a little but he remained aware of her hands. He couldn’t shut her out. Not now.
He roared in rage inside his head. Pure panic returned. He hadn’t reached his hundredth year. He was still obligated to be the guardian of the Lycan pack, or whatever other job he was assigned until he reached that birthday. His father had committed him to servitude, and Lord Aveoth would be ruthless in his punishment. Mistakes were never forgiven.
Grief tore at his heart next. He’d withstand the lashes he’d have to take. Even spending ten years encased in a prison for his crime would seem easy compared to what he knew they’d do to Angel. Death would almost be considered merciful.
No! He’d fall before he allowed her to be taken to the GarLycan cliffs and sentenced with him. They wouldn’t have a reason to enslave her if he wasn’t there to suffer the knowledge that she was paying for what he’d done. It was the only way to protect her now.
“Damn it, Creed! Please? Just open your eyes and say something. Anything! Did you hurt yourself?”
Her hands explored the back and top of his head, before she moved behind him. She leaned against one of his wings. He hadn’t folded them when he’d shelled out his body. They were still extended. She pressed her body along his back, wiggling between his wings to get a better look at the top of his head.
“I don’t see any cracks. That’s good, right? No dents.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He was thicker-bodied when shelled than in skin. She put her lips near his ear. “Creed? I know you’re in there. I know you can hear me. You told me that once when I asked if you were aware of your surroundings in Gargoyle form. There’s no way you fell asleep that fast.” The pleading tone in her voice tugged at him. “Please come back and tell me what’s happening to you.”
Angel ignored the slight abrasive feel of Creed’s rough shell against her bare skin. She’d seen him that way before one other time. She’d thought he was amazing when he’d shown her what he looked like in resting Gargoyle form. Now, not so much. He’d literally used his wings to throw his body off hers from the bed, slammed into the roof, and then hit the floor. His skin had darkened as she watched, turning into that stone quality.
Tears filled her eyes. Had he hurt himself when he’d hit the top of the cave? For all she knew, this is what happened to GarLycans when they died. Maybe their corpses were sold off and people bought the huge Gargoyle statues to put in their yards, never realizing they had once been living, breathing being. Or perhaps he was just so hurt that he’d blacked out and would remain that way until he came to.
She ignored how he chilled her skin and how uncomfortable it was to hug a big shape seemingly made out of pure stone. It was Creed.
How in the hell had things gone so bad all the sudden? They’d had amazing, mind-blowing sex. Then afterward, when they’d recovered, it had all gone so horribly wrong.
“I’m here,” she promised him. “I’m right here. I have you.” She looked around his room, searching for any sign of a phone. He might need help, but there was none in sight. He probably had a cell phone. She had left hers at her parents’ house inside her backpack. It wasn’t as if she’d thought she’d need it when she’d left the house.
Where would he keep a phone? She had no idea. She wasn’t even sure who to contact. The pack called Creed if they needed help. She didn’t even have his number. The elders had to have some kind of way to get in touch with his people, unless they always went through Creed. She wasn’t sure of how that worked. Only the elders and the alpha knew.
She let him go and almost stumbled into one of his wings. They were big suckers, and she bumped her shoulder on the tip of one as she rushed to his dresser. There were only three drawers. No phone was inside them, but she did find a battery alarm clock. She turned, running out of his room. “Where in the hell did you leave it?”
She couldn’t find the cell phone. She opened the two drawers under the counter in the tiny kitchen. It only held utensils and a few other items he used to cook or eat.
“Damn it, where is your cell?”
She rushed into the bedroom, seeing he hadn’t changed back. He remained exactly as she’d left him. She darted into the bathroom. There was a cupboard under the sink but it just contained a few spare towels and toilet paper. She returned to his side, shooting a frantic glance around the room. There was no sign of a hamper or any shelf he could have set it on to charge.
Frustration had her considering the odds of going to the entrance of his cavern and trying to wave a towel until hopefully someone from the village spotted her up on the cliff. They wouldn’t have any way of reaching her though. Not without calling in search and rescue. No way could humans get involved. They might have helicopters and crews that could reach the ledge where she stood but then what? They’d place her in a straightjacket for seventy-two hours if she led them to Creed and told them he was a real man, not a Gargoyle statue. They couldn’t help him anyway.
She got in front of Creed and lowered to her knees. He was beautiful in any form but he took on an ethereal quality when he was all gray and that stone texture. She placed her hands on his shoulders, gripping them.
“Creed? Come back to me. Open your eyes and stop.” Her voice broke as she fought down a sob. She’d thought it was bad when he’d flown away and refused to speak to her in the past. This was much worse. “You’re scaring me. Do you hear me? Did you hurt yourself so bad that you’re in trouble? I can’t help you like this. I don’t know what to do!”
There was a small cracking noise—and she held her breath. His right shoulder slightly vibrated. She hoped that it wasn’t just wishful thinking…but then some of the dark gray of his body started to lighten. She breathed again and watched his face.
“That’s it, baby. Come back. Unshell.”
The hard mineral under her hands seemed to slightly soften. She squeezed, making certain she wasn’t imagining it. It was a relief when she knew she wasn’t. Creed moved his head a little but his eyes remained closed. The shelling of his body started to soften more, fading from gray to flesh tone. He parted his lips and sucked air deeply into his lungs. She stared at his chest as it expanded.
“That’s it, Creed. Come back to me.”
His eyes opened and they were pitch black. She was grateful to see any life in them. The color started to lighten. She felt heat under her hands on his shoulders, as he changed more into firm, supple flesh. It was a slow process but he sagged when it was over. He even withdrew his wings. The little popping sounds she heard as they folded down and withdrew into his back normally would have made her wince but it didn’t matter. None of it did. Creed was alive.
She searched his eyes. The blue was back, along with the tiny silver flecks. She leaned in closer, putting her nose so close she almost touched his. “Are you hurt?”
“No.” His voice came out too deep, harsh.
“You scared the living shit out of me.”
“You should be.”
Her mouth parted, and she felt as if he’d emotionally slapped her. Had he done this to her on purpose? She jerked back. “That was cruel, Creed.” She released his shoulders. “I thought you might have hurt yourself so bad you were dying.” She itched to punch him but fisted her hands instead and shoved them in her lap as she collapsed onto her legs to sit. “How could you do that to me?”
“How could you do this to us? Do you know what you’ve made me do?”
Her mouth hung open. “What?”
“Don’t give me that innocent look.” Creed rose up and got to his feet. “You got what you wanted, but you have no idea of the cost.”
His thunderous voice echoed in the chamber. She gaped at him as he stood before her, looking furious. His eyes silvered out, swirling as if they were liquid metal.
“I told you to stop, Angel. Would you listen? No! You always have to push, don’t you? You are so damn human!”
“So you had to get payback by pulling that stunt? I thought you were dying! You’re such an asshole.”
He threw back his head and roared. Angel cried out from the pain it caused in her ears and covered them with her hands. Dust partials rained down from the ceiling and along the walls, where small cracks in the mountain showed. Her heart hammered as she lowered her hands.
Creed glanced around. “Fuck,” he muttered, his voice much softer. “I’m sorry. We can’t even have an argument in here. They probably heard that at the village.” He glared at her. “This is your fault. Are you happy, baby? Is this all you ever dreamed it would be? Just wait until tonight. That’s when the real hell begins.”
She stared at him. He wasn’t making sense and he was being totally irrational. “You’re still emotional and not over the ravage all the way. Take deep breaths. You need to calm down. I’m going to do the same.”
His eyes widened, and then he spun away, pacing the room.
She lowered her gaze, hating that she was admiring Creed naked. He did have a nice ass—and every other body part. She was just glad he wasn’t gray anymore and he was moving around, even if he did look as if he might wear out the carpet.
He knew every button to push to make her madder than hell, but she tried to remember he was going through the GarLycan version of heat. She could relate to being all over the place with emotions at that time of the month, from having her periods when she’d been younger, before taking a shot to prevent them. He only had to deal with it every thirty years. Men had it easier than women.
He stopped and looked at her. He appeared as if he’d gotten a handle on his anger. “This is what I’m going to do. I’ll return you to the village, and then I’ll fly to see Lord Aveoth. I’m going to take the blame. I’ll tell him I unchained you and provoked what happened between us. I won’t let you pay for this, Angel. I would never allow you to be harmed in any way. I’ll tell him you’re human, and I forced you into this situation. You aren’t strong enough to stop me, no one can refute that. You need to say the same thing if the guardian who replaces me ever questions you. Promise me that.”
She was confused over everything he’d said but the last part stuck. “You’re quitting your job?”
He hesitated. “I’m going to fall, Angel. It’s the only way to make certain they can’t use you as part of my punishment.”
“What punishment? What are you talking about?”
“You didn’t know. I understand that. You live by your emotions. It’s one of the things I’ve always found charming and irresistible about you.” His features softened. “I want you to know that I will fall with honor to protect you. I wouldn’t do it for anyone else.”
“Fall? What does that mean?”
“My father swore me to clan service for the first hundred years of my life, to the previous lord. It was done at my birth. I was given no choice in the matter, but I must honor the vow he gave. To do anything else would be dishonorable and not be tolerated.”
He walked to her and lowered to his knees. He reached out and took her hands in both of his, holding them. “I’m not allowed to take a mate until my service is over. My life isn’t my own. I should have told you this. The punishment will be a lashing in front of my clan until I’m required to shell my body. I’ll be so weakened by then from blood loss that it’s easier to stay in that form for longer periods of time, since we suspend our bodies in that shape. They encase the punished in a sealed cavern for ten years. It won’t kill my kind, but there’s no sound, not even the brush of a breeze. There’s nothing but darkness and being locked with your own thoughts, between sleeps, until the uncasing. It’s a very effective way to make certain the laws are followed.”
“That’s horrible, but—”
“I’m not done,” he cut her off. “Lord Aveoth will decide what will happen to the mate. His father swore he’d have them slaughtered. He threatened to make the punished watch. Some lords in the past considered it a mercy if they just enslaved the mate while the punished were encased for those ten years. That way, he wouldn’t lose her forever. Remember when I told you that Gargoyles nearly died out as a race because our birthrates for having males is much higher than girl children?”
“Yes but—”
“What is worse than making the punished go into darkness, knowing that his mate will be forced to breed with any single male who wishes to try to impregnate her? Any children born would be taken from her after birth, to be the sole property of the father, her parental rights stripped. It helped keep our race alive, despite the cruelty of it. The mate wasn’t given a choice.”
His gaze left her to glance at the bed and his mouth pressed into a tight line. “I will never allow them to enslave you. You’d be tied down and taken by any male who was willing to have a youngling with a human vessel. Some of the older full-bloods could use your body to give them sons. They’d keep you locked up until you birthed, take the child away from you forever, then turn you into a vessel for the next one who chooses to make you birth him a child. It would continue until I’m freed. You wouldn’t survive it, Angel. Not your body or your mind. And I won’t allow that.”
She wasn’t shocked by the laws he’d just explained. She’d grown up in a Lycan pack. Some of their laws were downright barbaric. “Why would they want to do that to me? Why are you telling me this?”
He paled slightly. “You don’t know?”
“Know what?”
He closed his eyes and dropped his chin to his chest.
“Know what? Creed?”
He looked at her, and she saw a deep sadness in the depth of his gaze. “I lost control. I thought you goaded me into it on purpose by biting me.” He held her hands a little tighter. “I changed forms while we were on that bed.” He paused. “While I was inside you. I lost control of my forms and I bit you back. I was drinking your blood during sex.”
Angel was grateful she was already sitting on her ass. The implications sank in. “Oh God.”
He nodded. “We mated. The bond is weak since I only bit you near the end…but it’s done.”