Mated to the Gargoyle (Mated to the Monster)

by Lisa Carlisle

“Good morning.” I snuggled back against him, brushing against his stiff erection. He rumbled and pulled me against. “Good morning.” He nuzzled the back of my neck. He reached around and caressed one of my breasts, stoking the smoldering coals within. When he reached down between my legs, I leaned into his touch—until the soreness stung. “I’m afraid I need a little time to recover,” I announced with regret. “Ah, right.” He pulled his hand away and propped himself up on one elbow. “Are you okay?” His expression turned concern. He lifted his other hand, moving it over my hip as if attempting to figure out how to soothe me. “Did I hurt you?” “I’m fine,” I assured him with a smile. “Just a little sore.”

“I know this is awkward, but I have to know.” I pursed my lips before continuing. “When you called me your mate last night, was that just a gargoyle thing? A term of affection, maybe?” Hugo froze. He slowly finished chewing, swallowed, put his fork down, and straightened in his chair. “No.” Wariness edged his tone. I bit my lower lip and then asked, “Something said in the heat of the moment?” I shrugged sheepishly. His lips quirked with chagrin. “That happened indeed, since I didn’t mean to overwhelm you.” He placed his hands on his lap. “But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t the truth.”

After several seconds, he fixed an earnest gaze on me. “The reason I said that is because—” He swallowed. “It’s true. You are the one for me. My mate.” Oh my. I blinked a few times. “Mate?” I repeated. “Yes.” He searched my eyes and then nodded slowly. One heartbeat pounded harder than the next. “As in what I’ve read in shapeshifter romances?” His lips twitched, his eyes gleaming with curiosity. “Possibly. How do they explain it in your books?” He cocked his head as he stared at me. My gaze drifted off. “That there is only one perfect match for a shifter in the universe. Your fated mate. Like a soul mate, I guess.” I heard the wistfulness in my tone. Was that something I even believed existed? Hugo adjusted in his chair, drawing my attention back to him. He glanced down at the table. Then he lifted his gaze to meet mine once more. “Then yes.”

“Anya?” he voiced my name with concern. “Are you all right?”

Merde, I was losing her. “It’s okay, Little Sparrow.” I attempted to soothe her.

“It’s okay.” She lifted her shoulders and turned her hands palms up. “We don’t know who set the fire or why. I didn’t even know that I was in the house until I was older and accessed my files. Someone must have found me and taken me to a fire station.” Oh fuck. Her words struck me as if I’d been hit by granite. That long-buried memory. It couldn’t be⁠— She slanted her gaze. “Hugo?” I rubbed the back of my neck. “I’m fine.” “No.” She eyed me with wariness. “Something’s wrong.”

“Anya,” I began. “I believe I was the one who found you that night. Around twenty-five years ago, I rescued an infant from a home near the stadium and brought the baby to a fire station.” She shuddered with a gasp, and her eyes bulged wide. “It was you?” Her voice was just above a whisper. “How? You don’t look much older than me. You can’t be even thirty.” I grunted. “That’s because shifters age more slowly. We don’t gauge our ages the same way as humans, but in your world, I’d be forty-three.” Her eyes appeared dazed, unfocused. She blinked a few times and then stared at me. “You saved me from the fire?” The searing memory of rushing into the bedroom, taking the baby out of her crib, and flying her to safety returned. It was Anya. Anya. How could that be? “Yes.” I nodded slowly.

She placed her hand on her chest, her breath coming quick. “I can’t deal with this now.” She shook her head rapidly. “I need to go.” “Where?” Fear for her safety climbed skyward. “Anywhere.” She gestured outward. “Anywhere but here.” The pain sawed in my chest. In other words, away from me. “But the danger⁠—”

“There could be others.” I exhaled. “I’ve been assigned to protect you.” “And I’m excusing you from those duties, Hugo.” She raised her chin with a determined expression. “There are no indications that anyone else was involved other than the two intruders—who are now both dead. I can’t hide out here forever. Thank you for taking care of me, for protecting me, but it’s time I get back to my life.” She motioned between us. “Do you understand?” I hung my head. “I do.” When I lifted my head, Anya walked away from me. She was going to leave. Walk out of my home. Out of my life.

Because she’s the one for you. Your mate.

Humans were frightened by what they didn’t understand. And when they feared something, they considered it a threat and attempted to destroy it.

My resolve hardened. As much as it killed me to be this close to Anya, knowing she didn’t want me, I couldn’t leave her unprotected. I’d do anything and destroy anyone to protect my mate.

“What are you doing? Let go of me!” I attempted to twist out of his grasp.

“Ow, you’re hurting me,” I wailed. Tears stung my eyes. A dark shadow passed overhead, edging out the illumination from the lampposts. We both turned to look up. Massive gray wings spread above us, blocking out the light of the moon. It was Hugo in full gargoyle form—awe-inspiring wings, carved muscles, curved horns, stone-gray skin, and massive tail. A piercing, deadly glint shined in his hard, silver-gray eyes. My heart jolted in relief. “Hugo,” I whispered. “Let her go,” Hugo said in a steel-edged tone that seethed with fury as he descended toward us.

Hugo had come to protect me. My heart beamed with relief. Calix would surely run away in terror, possibly pissing himself as he did.

Below, Anya ran back outside holding the book. What was she doing? If it got into the wrong hands, like those of a dark sorcerer, it could lead to more devastation. Worse, she was risking her life in doing so with her greatest fear—fire. Her action seemed downright suicidal.

Fire could take her away from me.

“Anya, are you okay?” I asked in a breathless tone while rushing over to her.

“No!” I cried, and Anya screamed.

“You need to open your wings.” “What?” His voice sounded shocked. “Absolutely not.” “I know what to do. Can you distract him while I cast a spell?” “No way. It’s suicidal!” “Trust me,” I insisted. “I know what I need to do.”

Fighting with Hugo in this dire situation was better than delaying the moment in which we’d both inevitably burn. “Please, Hugo. I have to try.” After several seconds, he swore under his breath and then murmured, “Okay.”

“I’m ready.” “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice clipped with uncertainty. “Fuck, I can’t let you burn!” Dread curled around my spine again. No, I refused to let it control me anymore. “Hugo, trust me!” I shouted. “Yes,” he said in with a resigned tone. “Ready, I’m counting down—three, two, one.”

He landed near the ashes and stared down at them with suspicion. Then he raised his gaze to meet mine. “Hugo!” I called out and ran over to him, careful to not touch any of the scorched areas of his body as I embraced him. He wrapped his protective arms around me. “Are you okay, Little Sparrow?” I pulled away just enough to stare up at him. “I was going to ask you the same thing.” I fretted as I searched for how to help him. “The fire. The burns. Your poor wings!” Emotion clogged my voice.

“You’re more powerful than you know, Little Sparrow. More special than you ever believed.”

“But you knew. You believed in me, even when I didn’t.” He gazed down at me and then nodded solemnly. “Yes.” I leaned against his solid chest, comforted by the strong beat of his heart against my cheek. “Hugo, can we go home now?” “Of course.” After a pause, he asked, “Where to?” I pulled back just enough to be able to look into his eyes. “It doesn’t matter,” I replied. “As long as I’m with you.”

“Someone’s awake.” “Mmm,” I murmured against her sweet-smelling neck. “If you keep doing that, I’ll be hard as stone.” “I like you hard and gargoyle-y,” she replied and then wiggled against me once more. “I like everything about you, Hugo.”

When I stroked her, she was already so wet and welcoming. “You’re wet.” I slipped a digit inside, and she moaned. “Were you dreaming of me last night?” I gently nibbled her neck. “Maybe,” she agreed in with a flirtatious tone. As I continued to stroke her, I teased, “If you were dreaming about me, what would you be fantasizing about?” Slowly, I pushed another finger inside, to help prepare her for my size. A breathy gasp escaped her. “Ooh, this would be a delicious start.”

“I’m always up for more when it comes to you, Little Sparrow.” I bent down and kissed her neck, her collarbone, her shoulders. “I missed you.” “I’m right here,” she promised in a raspy whisper. A feral growl escaped me. “I need you.” She spread her legs wider and pulled me closer. “Come to me.” She lifted her hips, increasing the friction between us. A low moan vibrated deep inside my chest. “You don’t know what that does to me,” I murmured. She did so once more. “Show me,” she encouraged.

“I love when you do that.” “I love to touch you,” she replied in a breathy voice. “I want you.” “Fuck, yes,” I rumbled in agreement. “No, I mean more than that.” She ran her fingers through my hair. “I want to be your mate, Hugo.” I pulled away just enough to look into her eyes. “Do you mean it?” “Yes.” She smiled. “We should take our time getting to know each other better. I’m yours. Your mate.” Your mate. Anya’s words replayed in my head. I’d never heard anything so magnificent. Her words ignited such elation in me, I kissed her hard. She saw me in my true form, and her acceptance meant the world to me. Everything.

“You’re mine,” I growled.

My brave witch.

“I love you, Anya, my mate. You have my soul eternally.” She ran her delicate fingers over my back, where my wings were retracted. “I love you too, Hugo. My gargoyle. My lover.” After another breath, she added, “My mate.”

“What is it, Little Sparrow?” His brows furrowed with concern. “Nothing’s wrong.” I ran my hand over his muscular torso. “I was just hoping you’d help me⁠—” When I didn’t finish, he prompted, “Help you what?”

“I have a fantasy,” I admitted. “And I want to act it out with you.” His gray eyes flashed with more silver, looking devilish. “Anything for you. With you. Tell me more.”

“Right here,” I said, my voice already raspy. “Right now.” “Oh fuck, yes.” Hugo gripped me by the waist and lifted me up to kiss me. Then he pressed me against the books as he kissed my neck, swirling his tongue around as he worked it down.

He rose, towering over me, and murmured, “We’re just getting started, my mate.”

“Fuck, Anya, I’m right there with you.” He thrust into me so hard that strangled yelps flew out of my mouth. Then he released a guttural groan and stilled.

“That was better than any fantasy.” He chuckled. “I want to hear all of them and act them out with you.”