New Serial Story: Under His Wing, Part 8
This story is presented weekly in draft (unedited) form. Enjoy!
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 |
Dunning Manor, Book 1
Under His Wing
Part 8
Katie knew she hadn’t just made an inappropriate joke about a damn gargoyle in the dining room. Not really. Because gargoyles weren’t real. They were made of stone, and carved on the top of old buildings to act as waterspouts for the roof. They didn’t just turn human and have dinner like semi-civilized men and make girls like her all hot and bothered by flapping their wings and showing a bit - well, more than a bit, in this case - of skin.
And girls like her did *not* find men who turned into mythical creatures attractive. Even when she was dreaming, which was the only practical explanation for what was happening. The whole night had been strange and surreal and completely unbelievable. From almost being burned on a spit by her boyfriend, to stumbling into a big, huge house with a mysterious caretaker, and then being convinced to cook a horrible dinner that somehow magically turned into an edible one, and now this...
The whole thing had to be a nightmare. Eventually she’d wake up in her own bed, with her own pillow and she’d have forgotten everything her mind had made up while she was sleeping.
She glanced at the gargoyle again, watching as his wings seemed to shrink into his back, his skin losing the dark gray cast in favor of a more normal pasty-tan hue, his ears losing the tall points for a more circumspect blunted shape. It was almost disappointing, if she was honest. The monster intrigued her, but she had no idea how to make him change back. Wishing wasn’t working.
He still towered over her even as a man, and with his clothing ruined, she could see that his human body was every bit as trim and muscular as the monster-form, just on a slightly smaller scale. Certainly one more suitable for...playing with. The very thought made her look around for something to use as a fan. Her whole body felt like it was on fire.
She giggled as it occurred to her that Peter must be incredibly disappointing to her subconscious, given the body it handed her in her dreams. Which only made her giggle even more, and the confused and somewhat concerned look on the gargoyle-man’s face wasn’t helping.
He stepped forward, reaching out a hand but she backed away, warding him off with both hands. If he touched her, she’d just toss herself right into those big, muscular arms, and while she was sure the dream would take a really nice turn from there, she was equally sure she’d be disappointed when she woke up alone. No need to torture herself any further.
“This has all been a lot of fun,” she said, noting that even her own voice sounded kind of tinny all of a sudden. “But I need sleep. A lot of sleep. Alone. So I’m just going to go now...”
There was a narrow door at the other end of the room and she turned and sprinted for it, running into the hall beyond, which looked like the one she’d been shown to earlier when Zariah had assigned her a bedroom. But none of the rooms along the way seemed to have beds, and the farther she went, the more lost she felt, especially when the hallway jogged left, then right, and then sort of made a u-turn. Or did it?
Stopping to catch her breath, she reminded herself that this was all in her head. None of it was real, she was just sleeping. Dreaming. Closing her eyes, she envisioned a big library lined floor to ceiling with bookcases and great tall windows on one wall. There was a desk, and several other chairs plus...she smiled, opening her eyes. and then turned a slow circle, stopping when a red tapestry on the floor of a room down one isle caught her eye. She went down the hall and pushed the half-closed door open.
She smiled.
It was almost exactly as she’d envisioned, with a fire crackling merrily in the fireplace, and a deep, antique-looking couch was pulled up close for warmth. A thick woven blanket was draped across the back, as though someone had just carelessly tossed it there, and a pair of woven pillows sat in the crook of one arm.
She didn’t hesitate, just went to the couch and lay on her side, head on the pillows as she pulled the throw down over her body. If she only remembered one thing, she thought as she drifted to sleep, she wanted to remember this room.
Enjoy
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 |
Dunning Manor, Book 1
Under His Wing
Part 8
Katie knew she hadn’t just made an inappropriate joke about a damn gargoyle in the dining room. Not really. Because gargoyles weren’t real. They were made of stone, and carved on the top of old buildings to act as waterspouts for the roof. They didn’t just turn human and have dinner like semi-civilized men and make girls like her all hot and bothered by flapping their wings and showing a bit - well, more than a bit, in this case - of skin.
And girls like her did *not* find men who turned into mythical creatures attractive. Even when she was dreaming, which was the only practical explanation for what was happening. The whole night had been strange and surreal and completely unbelievable. From almost being burned on a spit by her boyfriend, to stumbling into a big, huge house with a mysterious caretaker, and then being convinced to cook a horrible dinner that somehow magically turned into an edible one, and now this...
The whole thing had to be a nightmare. Eventually she’d wake up in her own bed, with her own pillow and she’d have forgotten everything her mind had made up while she was sleeping.
She glanced at the gargoyle again, watching as his wings seemed to shrink into his back, his skin losing the dark gray cast in favor of a more normal pasty-tan hue, his ears losing the tall points for a more circumspect blunted shape. It was almost disappointing, if she was honest. The monster intrigued her, but she had no idea how to make him change back. Wishing wasn’t working.
He still towered over her even as a man, and with his clothing ruined, she could see that his human body was every bit as trim and muscular as the monster-form, just on a slightly smaller scale. Certainly one more suitable for...playing with. The very thought made her look around for something to use as a fan. Her whole body felt like it was on fire.
She giggled as it occurred to her that Peter must be incredibly disappointing to her subconscious, given the body it handed her in her dreams. Which only made her giggle even more, and the confused and somewhat concerned look on the gargoyle-man’s face wasn’t helping.
He stepped forward, reaching out a hand but she backed away, warding him off with both hands. If he touched her, she’d just toss herself right into those big, muscular arms, and while she was sure the dream would take a really nice turn from there, she was equally sure she’d be disappointed when she woke up alone. No need to torture herself any further.
“This has all been a lot of fun,” she said, noting that even her own voice sounded kind of tinny all of a sudden. “But I need sleep. A lot of sleep. Alone. So I’m just going to go now...”
There was a narrow door at the other end of the room and she turned and sprinted for it, running into the hall beyond, which looked like the one she’d been shown to earlier when Zariah had assigned her a bedroom. But none of the rooms along the way seemed to have beds, and the farther she went, the more lost she felt, especially when the hallway jogged left, then right, and then sort of made a u-turn. Or did it?
Stopping to catch her breath, she reminded herself that this was all in her head. None of it was real, she was just sleeping. Dreaming. Closing her eyes, she envisioned a big library lined floor to ceiling with bookcases and great tall windows on one wall. There was a desk, and several other chairs plus...she smiled, opening her eyes. and then turned a slow circle, stopping when a red tapestry on the floor of a room down one isle caught her eye. She went down the hall and pushed the half-closed door open.
She smiled.
It was almost exactly as she’d envisioned, with a fire crackling merrily in the fireplace, and a deep, antique-looking couch was pulled up close for warmth. A thick woven blanket was draped across the back, as though someone had just carelessly tossed it there, and a pair of woven pillows sat in the crook of one arm.
She didn’t hesitate, just went to the couch and lay on her side, head on the pillows as she pulled the throw down over her body. If she only remembered one thing, she thought as she drifted to sleep, she wanted to remember this room.
Enjoy
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