Fairydale: A Dark Gothic Fantasy Romance

‘Wake up, sleeping beauty,’ a deep rumble penetrates my sleepy state.

Turning around in my bed, I swat a pair of hands aside as I moan my displeasure.

‘Let me sleep,’ I grumble.

‘Wake up, darlin’. There’s much to be done today.’

Darlin’.

Only one person calls me darlin’.

My eyes snap open as I push myself into a sitting position.

He’s on the right side of my bed, a lazy smile on his face as he regards me.

Immediately, I hug the sheet to my chest, even though I’m wearing a thick cotton nightgown.

‘You’re back?’

‘Just in time for the festival,’ he winks at me.

‘What festival?’ I frown.

‘Fairy Festival. I’m sure you must have heard of it. It’s the only time of the year when the town comes together and forgets about previous animosities. And even better,’ he pauses, a mischievous grin on his face.

My brows shoot up in question.

‘It’s a costume festival.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You’ll get to dress in fancy period dresses and dance like it’s the nineteenth century,’ he chuckles. ‘It will be fun. You’ll see. But first we need to find you something to wear,’ he says as he pulls the sheet from me.

I squeak in surprise, my cheeks reddening as the sheet slips from my hands.

‘Don’t,’ I jump to grab it back.

‘How did I offend your maidenly sensibilities this time, Darcy darlin’?’ he drawls in amusement.

‘I’m not wearing a brassiere,’ I admit as I avert my gaze, but not before I see his dip to my breasts.

Hugging my arms around my chest, I try to face him.

‘Wait outside,’ I tell him, motioning to the door with a push of my chin. ‘I need to get dressed.’

For a moment he doesn’t move, simply watching me with a dangerous twinkle in his eyes.

‘As you wish,’ he eventually says, giving me a mock bow as he exits the room.

The moment the door closes, I mutter a curse under my breath. No locked door can hold Caleb, can it?

Shaking my head, I go to my luggage as I rummage for something to wear. Since he’d said I would try on dresses, I opt for clothing I could easily wear underneath so I won’t need to undress—my way of telling him he will not win in that regard.

I end up choosing a beige t-shirt and a pair of white mid-calf pants.

As I put my clothes on, I cannot stop my thoughts from straying to the day before and how my meeting with Mr. Nicholson had gone.

Yet despite the seemingly prejudiced information he’d given me, it had been the vision that had rattled me the most.

That and how the vision had come about.

The stone.

It must be a magical object if it was capable of showing me a previous life. One where I still had this odd healing ability, but no mark to show for it.

A life where I was still Amon’s…

I swallow hard as I still in front of the mirror while rinsing my mouth. I stare at my reflection and I cannot help but remember a similar incident in the vision with Amon.

He’d…touched me.

Intimately.

And it had been…glorious.

Good Lord, my cheeks burn just thinking about it.

Out of everything I could analyze from that vision, that intimate moment is the one I cannot stop thinking about. The one that haunts me as does his touch—because I crave it more than anything else.

Whether I am Sela, Elizabeth, or Darcy, my feelings for him do not change.

He’s in my heart, my soul, my very blood.

My fingers linger over my left breast, somehow still able to feel the heat of his palm on my skin, his lips on my neck and his fingers buried deep in…

‘Get a hold of yourself, Darcy,’ I tell myself as I splash some water on my face.

But the truth is that I am absolutely wrecked, and the only culprit is…a demon.

Yet is Amon just a demon?

If what I’d seen had been real, then the Amon that had been my husband had not been evil. He’s been honorable and devoted—nothing like the evil entity Rhiannon and Mr. Nicholson are making him out to be. Certainly nothing like someone who would kill me in cold blood.

He’d loved me. Of that I am sure. He’d loved me as Sela, and he’d loved me as Elizabeth too.

Once again, though the information piles up, I find myself even more confused.

Rationally, I don’t think I can trust anyone. But if I look within me—my intuition is to go with Amon.

Always.

Just then, a knock at my door startles me, and I blush furiously as I remember Caleb.

The man courting me.

The man I should be thinking about.

Not some demon who may or may not have the power to influence my mind.

And yet another conundrum arises.

Though Amon undoubtedly has a claim on my heart due to everything that I’ve seen and experienced in the past, I cannot deny that I feel something for Caleb too.

He’s charming, intense, and a little dangerous.

It’s to a degree that my heart is just as confused as my mind.

Yes, my instinct is to trust Amon. But the same instinct wants to give Caleb a chance—live in the moment with him.

‘Damn it,’ I curse in frustration.

Do I focus on the past with a potentially dangerous demon, banking everything on the few snippets that may or may not be real? Or do I focus on the present and the future—on Caleb?

‘Darcy, are you done?’

I take one last look in the mirror before I head outside, though my heart still remains split in two.

‘Where are we going?’

‘While you were sleeping the morning away, I’ve already gone through the old clothes in the attic and have selected a few that would fit you so you can try them on,’ he tells me, swinging his arms around my shoulders and leading me further down the hallway.

The room he’d prepared is two doors down from his bedroom, and I appreciate that he’d been thoughtful about not making me uncomfortable by arranging everything in his own room.

‘So what happens at this festival?’

‘It’s an occasion for everyone to be merry,’ he tells me with a smile. ‘It was first celebrated in the early eighteen hundreds to honor Mrs. Creed for her involvement in the town and with the peasant families. They used to call her the fairy,’ he chuckles, almost as if reminiscing about a fond memory.

‘That sounds fun,’ I smile. ‘I’m curious what you picked,’ I say as I survey the many dresses laid out for me.

There’s also a divider at the end of the room, and he gives me a sheepish smile when I look at him curiously.

‘You can be quite sweet when you put your mind to it,’ I praise gently.

‘Only for you,’ he whispers, coming a little closer.

Before I can anticipate what he will do, he brushes his lips lightly  across my forehead.

My heart does a somersault in my chest, heat traveling up my cheeks as I feel myself growing flustered.

And there it is—my main conundrum. How can I claim to be in love with Amon yet react like this to Caleb? Alternatively, how can I say I’m falling for Caleb while holding the same torch for Amon?

Can one person even love two people? Equally?

Before, I would have said no.

Now? I no longer know…

‘Why don’t you start with that one,’ he points to a pink gown.

‘Are these really from the nineteenth century?’

The quality of the silk is absolutely breathtaking.

Caleb nods.

‘Most are what the Creeds left behind. No one touched them after so they should be in good shape.’

‘They are. These are wonderful, Caleb,’ I breathe out in wonder.

‘Let’s see how they look on you then,’ he directs me to the divider, telling me he will be the judge.

‘Aren’t you quite bossy?’ I joke as I take off my shirt. ‘Why should you decide what I wear?’

‘Because I’m the main audience, darlin’,’ he drawls in that cocky way of his. ‘If you’re dressing up for anyone, it’s me.’

‘You…’ I take a step outside the divider, narrowing my eyes at him. ‘Has anyone told you how arrogant you are?’

His eyes sparkle.

‘Has anyone told you how fucking sexy you are?’

My eyes widen just as my mouth forms an o, no sound coming out.

I stare at him, blinking once, twice. The third time, I squeal as I jump behind the divider again. Gazing down, I note that thankfully I still had my brassiere on, but it does nothing to alleviate my embarrassment.

‘You’re an asshole, Caleb!’ I yell out.

His laughter echoes in the room, and it seems like my little blunder has given him plenty of material to tease me with now.

I quickly put on the dress, forgoing a corset.

‘Done,’ I grumble as I exit, doing a pitiful twirl in front of him.

He purses his lips, tapping his finger against his chin as he considers me.

‘Next,’ he declares, getting another dress and placing it in my arms.

I give him a deadly glare but I trudge my way back, putting on the next one.

It goes on like this for another hour. I never realized how hard it was to please Caleb. At this point we’re running out of dresses and he hasn’t liked any.

‘What about this one?’ I ask as I come out a while later.

To my surprise, I find him waiting for me with a cart full of food, tea and even dessert.

He stops the cart in the middle of the room as he straightens his spine, his eyes roving all over my figure.

I’d put on a dark blue gown that I’d thought complimented my eyes quite well.

And as he peruses me from head to toe, I rather believe he likes it too.

‘You like it?’ I whisper as I step closer, somehow needing to hear his confirmation.

He gives a brisk nod, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he regards me.

Leaving the cart behind, he takes a few steps towards me, his fingers going to my hair as he tucks a few stray strands behind my ear.

‘You look magnificent, Darcy,’ he compliments me in a thick voice.

His eyes come to rest on my face, caressing me with his honeyed gaze.

‘So very beautiful,’ he continues, almost as if in a trance.

‘I didn’t realize you found me beautiful,’ I blush as I push my chin down.

He’d told me he liked me and that he found me appealing. But this is the first time he called me beautiful.

He clears his throat.

‘Then it is my mistake. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Darcy,’ he whispers as he takes my hand, bringing my knuckles to his mouth for a kiss.

I’m rooted to the spot as I stare at him, wondering what it would feel like if I just gave in—just for a taste. If I let him touch more of me just as he is touching the skin on my hand—with innate sensuality accompanied by the utmost care.

Reverence.

He might be dangerous to my virtue, but for the first time I see in his eyes that he would cherish it too—cherish me.

‘Let’s eat,’ he suddenly says, moving away from me.

I try not to show my disappointment as I quickly take off the dress so I won’t sully it before I join him at the makeshift table.

‘What did you do while I was away?’ he asks casually as we start eating.

‘I spoke with Rhiannon,’ I start, giving him a quick rundown of my discussion with Rhiannon, telling him everything but the fact that I am familiar with Amon. I also tell him about my visit to Mr. Nicholson and the fact that he’d given me some conflicting information.

He nods thoughtfully as he listens, and it’s clear this is not new information for him.

‘You knew, didn’t you? About what’s happening in Fairydale. About everything,’ I accuse lightly, taking in his features and his lack of reaction to even the most shocking bits.

Like the fact that Mr. Nicholson is my grandfather.

‘If I knew and did not tell you, it was for a reason.’

His tone is serious as he meets my gaze.

‘I cannot make the decision for you, Darcy. I can only gently guide you.’

‘Then what do you suggest I do? One wants to do a life-threatening ritual, while the other wants some unknown blood rite. How am I to know what is right?’

‘Do you have to do either?’ he suddenly asks, shutting me up.

My brows pinch together as I tilt my head in confusion.

‘What do you mean?’

‘You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want, Darcy. Why should you risk anything? Why is it your duty to do anything?’

‘But… Isn’t this demon evil?’ I probe, curious what he knows.

‘He might be,’ he nods. ‘But did Lydia name the demon in her prophecy?’

‘What…’

‘To my knowledge she never said what evil. She only said that there will be someone who will eradicate the evil in Fairydale. What if…’

‘What if there’s something else?’ Hope laces my voice.

‘I don’t trust Nicholson. All his life, he’s only ever been concerned about one thing. Power. I would encourage you to be careful around him,’ he advises, and though he tries to come across as casual, I note the tightening of his fingers on his fork as he mentions the man by name.

‘What about your grandmother? Should I trust her?’

He shakes his head, a smile pulling at his lips.

‘You should trust no one but yourself, Darcy. When the time comes, you will know what to do,’ he assures me in a gentle tone.

‘You have so much faith in me,’ I give a dry laugh.

‘Because I know you will make the right choice,’ he states, his intense gaze on mine. ‘I trust you implicitly,’ he tells me, that one sentence backed by so much emotion, my own feelings seem to awaken, my eyes getting teary for no reason.

I blink away the dampness, offering him a small smile.

We continue to eat, and Caleb regales me with more tales about Fairydale and its odd encounters. Yet, except reinforcing his stance against Mr. Nicholson, he doesn’t bring up the topic again, nor does he give me any additional information that could help me make more sense of everything.

I trust you implicitly.

Why does that feel like such a heavy burden on my shoulders? Especially when I don’t know if I trust myself?

A few hours later we are on our way out of the house towards the beach where the celebrations are taking place—a few minutes north of the house. Caleb had described it as one of the most beautiful areas of Fairydale, where the marshes and the forest meet the sandy beach before the ocean takes over. Although I haven’t had the opportunity to visit until now, I’m excited to see it. Especially since he is accompanying me—the only thing that seems to make me feel safe lately.

I’m wearing the deep blue gown while Caleb had settled for a basic ensemble that nonetheless makes him look dashing.

‘Will your family be there, too?’

He nods.

‘Katrina will be there for sure. I doubt my grandmother would, though. It’s not really her scene.’

As we get closer to the beach, music starts blasting through the air.

‘A live orchestra too?’ I ask in awe.

‘Of course. It’s a veritable nineteenth century reenactment,’ he chuckles. ‘Even better, the waltz was at the height of its popularity,’ he winks at me.

‘I’ve never waltzed before,’ I admit as the music becomes louder, as does the crowd.

‘I wouldn’t have been very happy if you had,’ he murmurs softly, yet there’s an unyielding quality to his tone.

‘What?’ I flutter my lashes in surprise.

Suddenly, Caleb comes to a halt as he positions himself in front of me.

‘The waltz is too intimate,’ he states, his black eyes on mine. ‘It allows for the type of touch that could get a man killed.’

‘What do you mean?’ I frown.

One hand goes to the small of my back as he pulls me to him, our fronts mashed together.

‘Like this,’ he drawls as he caresses my back slowly. ‘You’re only allowed to be this close to me, darlin’,” he leans down to whisper in my ear. ‘You’re only allowed to have my hands on your body like this.’

‘You’re being absurd,’ I laugh, trying to diffuse the situation.

‘That’s not me being absurd, darlin’. It’s me being at my boiling point.’

I don’t reply as I don’t know how anyone could reply to that.

‘You’re being jealous for no reason, Caleb,’ I tell him lightly as I try to steer him towards the beach.

‘I have every reason to be jealous, Darcy. Every reason,’ he states emphatically, his breath coming out in short spurts.

Drawing back, he looks me in the eye for a moment, almost as if he’s trying to convey everything with his gaze—the intensity, the desire and the pure hunger rolling off him.

Giving him a slow nod, I breathe out in relief when he resumes his place by my side, taking my hand in his and leading me to the festival.

The music becomes louder, and soon we see all the townsfolk dancing and celebrating.

Everyone is dressed in period clothes, cutting a striking picture. I can easily imagine how this would have looked almost two centuries ago.

There are plenty of stands with food and beverages, as well as quite a few areas for games. The orchestra is to the side, playing different classical buoyant pieces as a few rows of men and women dance to the tunes.

‘It’s really the entire town, isn’t it?’

There must be a few hundred people on the beach. You can barely spot a patch of empty land with how populated the area is.

‘I told you it’s something Fairydale takes seriously. Everyone, whether young or old, loves this festival.’

‘Why was Mrs. Creed so popular?’ I ask as I let my eyes roam around, taking in all the fun and the good disposition of the people.

As we slowly make our way through the crowd, no one minds us. There are no strange looks, no odd whispers—nothing but merriment.

Either everyone is too focused on the festival, or Mr. Nicholson had done a marvelous job of taking the attention off me.

As it stands, no one even takes note of us.

‘She helped most of the families in town, whether with money, medicine or by being there for them. She was like the big sister of the town, always ready to help.’

‘That was very nice of her, considering the Creeds were so rich. No one would have held it against them if they never interacted with the town.’

‘It’s because they were so rich that it was unusual. They didn’t differentiate in regards to skin color or amount of wealth, making everyone feel welcome.’

‘It makes sense she would be celebrated, then. I’m sure it must have been rare for those times.’

‘Come,’ he says as he takes me to the first stand, buying me a type of Fairydale-specific dessert—a mix of fruits and rose jam.

‘There are fields of roses all around Fairydale. It’s our local pride,’ the seller declares as he hands me a little container.

Nodding my thanks, I follow Caleb as he takes me to yet another stand, and then another, until my arms are full of Fairydale delicacies.

Amusement enters his features as he sees me juggling the many dishes, so he seats me at a small table by the side, telling me to eat.

‘You’re not eating?’ I ask in between mouthfuls, noticing he’s just watching me.

He rests his chin in his palm as he gazes at me with deep satisfaction—as if he could get his fill just by looking at me.

My cheeks color slightly, especially as his lips tip into an adoring smile.

‘Have I told you how cute you are when you eat?’ he suddenly says, playfully tapping my nose with his finger.

‘Earlier you said beautiful,’ I raise a challenging brow at him.

‘You’re the best combination of beautiful, cute and sexy, darlin’. Never doubt that. But now…’ he pauses as his smile widens, his eyes roving all over my face. ‘Now you’re so cute, I’d like nothing more than to eat you.’

My eyes widen slightly, and before I know it, I push a piece of fruit into his mouth.

‘There’s plenty of food around. Besides, I’m not that edible,’ I grumble, flushing in embarrassment at my abysmal flirting skills.

He releases a deep chuckle as he slowly chews on the fruit, yet his gaze tells me everything I need to know. For him, I am edible.

When I’m done with the food, he takes the empty containers to the trash, getting me a cup of mulled wine.

‘Don’t tell me you’ve also never had alcohol before,’ he inquires when he sees me regard the glass with apprehension, smelling it while considering whether I should drink or not.

‘Will it get me drunk?’ I ask as I look up at him.

He shakes his head in amusement.

‘Go on, drink. Nothing will happen to you.’

Trusting him, I take a small sip. Then another one.

There’s an interesting flavor to it, and the combination of sweet and sour is potent on my senses. Before I know it, the cup is empty and I give him a doe-eyed look as I ask for a refill.

Ever the gentleman, Caleb indulges me, getting me another one. But when I’m done with that one, he tells me it’s time to dance.

Right at that moment, the Blue Danube starts playing.

Though the sand is a little inconvenient to dance on, I forget all about it as Caleb sweeps me into the crowd of other dancers, losing ourselves among them.

I may not be particularly familiar with the waltz, but with his lead, I don’t think I need to know anything—just how to let myself go and enjoy the moment.

He holds me close to his body—too close. One hand hugs mine as he raises our arms in the air while his other languidly touches my back, settling right above my hip. One dip and it could slip in dangerous territory.

But seeing the wicked gleam in his eyes, I know he’s aware of it—he’s in fact tempting fate as he caresses me softly, his fingers brushing over the light material of the dress, his touch searing even through the clothes. He moves his hand slowly, following the same rhythm of the waltz.

As he pushes me back, his hand dips, as he pulls me towards him, it goes up.

‘You’re incorrigible,’ I tell him, channeling my teacher’s tone. Yet my lips are in a perpetual smile as he spins me onto the sand-filled beach, my cheeks flushed, my heart pounding relentlessly.

The light breeze of the afternoon brushes against my skin, the cool wind doing nothing to ease the heat building in my body—from the wine or his proximity, I don’t know.

He has an equally carefree smile on his face, and though his eyes maintain the same intensity as before—as if he would eat me if he could—his features are lighter than they’ve ever been. So much so that I can’t help the feeling of déjà-vu that takes shape in my breast—an eternity converging into one moment.

This moment.

The music becomes a faraway sound, drowning in the distance as my focus dims until he turns into my sole focus. Everything to my right or left is a blur.

The sounds of the crowd are all but drowned out as I get lost in his eyes.

He twirls me around, every time fitting me tighter to his body—to the point that I feel every hard edge of him. His muscles bulge beneath his clothing, but there is another part of him that makes me blush to the roots of my hair.

He notices it too, as he brings his mouth to my ear, nibbling at my flesh.

‘My shy little maiden,’ he coos gently. ‘This is what you do to me, Darcy,’ he drawls as he holds me to him, his hardness fitted against my belly. ‘You make the blood in my veins boil with a need to possess you. To be the only man to ever touch your skin—to sear myself on your flesh.’

A shiver envelops me, his hot breath caressing my earlobe, his heated words making me tremble in his arms.

‘Will you be mine, Darcy darlin’?’

He draws back to study my reaction, and as I find myself staring at him, I cannot deny this maddening connection between us—this attraction that borders on the animalistic.

When I’m with him, all sense leaves me until I’m a mere pool of sensations, his touch creating small waves that ripple through the entire surface.

Words fail me as I can only look at him, my lips parted, my pulse drumming in my ears.

There’s music in the background, and as the waltz comes to an end, the orchestra switches to a more lively tune. Yet even as Caleb leads me into a brisker dance, increasing the tempo and swirling me all around, I cannot find it in me to answer him.

Not because I do not have an answer—my reaction to him is the prime indication that I do. But because I feel so lost, yet so found. So foreign in my own flesh, yet so at home in his arms.

It’s an alarming dichotomy, and one that scares me with its implications. It makes me believe that I’m more… That I’m not just orphaned little Darcy, the lonely English teacher who’s never tried to do anything daring in her life. No, when I’m with him like this—when my spirit soars up high—I feel special.

I feel…capable of anything.

‘You are,’ Caleb states as he comes closer in the rhythm of the dance, his breath caressing my lips. ‘Mine,’ he continues. ‘Mine. Mine. Mine, Darcy,’ he chants, his eyes a cloudy gathering of lust, desire and something more…

Something I should be intimately acquainted with, yet is ever so elusive.

Just as I’m about to look deeper into myself to give him an answer, a loud cry erupts in the air.

‘Duck,’ Caleb yells, pushing me to the ground just at the same time another howl resounds. The music stops, replaced by human screams as everyone starts running and panicking.

‘What…’

The word is barely out of my mouth when I see four winged creatures descend onto the beach.

‘What’s happening?’ I ask in alarm.

Caleb gathers me to his chest, doing his best to shield me from the ongoing chaos.

‘Gargoyles,’ he mutters. ‘Fuck.’

‘G-gargoyles? You mean…’

‘Yes, those,’ he nods to one of the winged creatures stepping onto the beach, one clawed hand reaching out and grabbing one of the men in its path.

Just as I think it’s going to throw him away, the gargoyle wraps its big hand around the body, bringing it to his mouth and popping the head off, slowly chewing on it as it lets its gaze roam around the beach.

‘We need to leave. Now,’ Caleb says as he helps me to my feet.

Before I can ask him what’s going on, he grabs the hem of my dress, tearing it in one go.

‘We can’t have anything slow us down.’

Grabbing my hand, he tugs me after him, hurrying to the path that leads back to the main road—and to the house.

I’m still staring at the big creature munching on the human head, my eyes bulging in my head at the sight, disbelief filling me to the brim.

Thank God for Caleb and his quick acting because I’m barely starting to recover from my shock.

‘Fuck,’ he suddenly stops, and I note that the other gargoyles have surrounded the beach, each slowly inching their way towards us while feasting on the crowd of people in their way.

‘They’re killing everyone,’ I whisper in horror. ‘We have to do something, Caleb. We can’t just…’ my voice trembles as I see more blood.

More decapitated bodies fall to the ground as the gargoyles blaze through the crowd.

‘They’re here for me, aren’t they?’ I ask, tugging on his sleeve. ‘They must be…’

‘Even if they are, they will never get to you. Trust me?’ he turns, confidence and determination radiating from him.

I give him a nod.

‘Yes, they must be here for you. For your blood,’ he winces. ‘The only way to save the humans is to lead them away from the beach and allow everyone time to run…’

He quicky comes with a plan, but my attention is stolen by a small cry of help.

Turning, I note with horror the destruction the gargoyles have already wrecked in their path—the dead bodies, the crushed stalls and blood-stained sand.

But my eyes focus on something else.

A child.

He’s maybe a few feet away from us, dragging himself in the sand all the while crying for his parents. People run past him, some tripping on him in their hurry to leave the danger zone. He yelps in pain as he tries to fend for himself, but he can barely move.

Everyone ignores him while they seek their own safety, and I can’t help the sudden squeeze in my chest.

‘Caleb,’ I point towards the little boy, gazing up at him and pleading with him with my eyes.

‘Darcy,’ he groans, but he acquiesces, shielding me while I dash to the little one.

As I reach his side, my mouth parts in horror as I note the state he is in and why he’s crawling instead of walking. His tibia is fractured, a part of the bone sticking out through his flesh.

‘Mommy,’ he cries out, his cheeks red with tears.

All at once, I’m thrust back in the past and in that one vision. Sela had been able to heal injuries with a touch. Would I be able to do that, too?

I can heal myself, but can I do it for other people as well?

Although I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do, I let instinct take over as I drop to my knees before the little boy, speaking softly to him in an attempt to calm him.

‘Be quick. We need to move,’ Caleb speaks harshly, yet his expression doesn’t match his tone as he regards me with hidden longing.

My heart beats loudly in my chest as I try to focus on my breathing. Placing my hands over the little boy’s injury, I remember how Sela had channeled energy to her palms, letting it hum to the surface before pushing it in the boy’s skin.

I try to do the same.

Focusing on my palms and on the energy inside of me, I summon it forth.

It takes a few attempts before I feel a flicker of something come to life, a pulsation at the surface of my skin.

‘It’s ok,’ I smile at the little boy, distracting him as I place my hand over the broken bone.

Gritting my teeth, I push all the energy towards him, imagining his bone retracting, his skin and flesh mending.

It doesn’t happen at first.

But within a few tries, I can feel the transfer of energy take place. Leaving my body, it morphs into a healing mist that envelops the injured leg.

In a few seconds, no injury remains.

‘Run,’ I tell him. ‘Run and find your mother.’

He blinks in confusion, unable to understand what’s happening. But eventually he does as told.

He runs away.

‘Did you see that?’ I jump to my feet. Immediately, though, a wave of dizziness hits me and I would have hit the ground if not for the strong arms that catch me. My head swims, my entire vision about to leave me just as my body becomes limp in his arms. If it hadn’t been for him, I would have never been able to keep myself upright—I’m struggling as it is to keep conscious.

But…how? When I heal myself I’m fine. Sela, too, hadn’t even felt the effects of healing that boy. For her it had been second nature. So why am I suddenly so weak?

‘Fucking hell,’ Caleb curses. ‘I’m proud of you, love, but you can’t do that. Not now. Not when you don’t have your strength back,’ he chastises lightly before swooping me in his arms.

I don’t question him, leaning into him and releasing a deep sigh as I wrap my arms around his neck, breathing his scent in.

Weak… I feel so weak…

The crowd is still running amok around us, and until now they’ve done a good job of masking our presence.  Soon, though, one of the gargoyles spots us, its red eyes flashing across the beach as does the pure determination reflected there—its singular purpose.

‘To the forest,’ Caleb says, holding me closer as he starts into a full on run. There are some people around who’d tried to hide in the marshes, and in an attempt to draw the creatures away, Caleb takes a different path than the rest.

The gargoyle follows, with the other three close on its trail.

‘It’s working,’ I tell him, struggling to keep my focus as my body is still languid from healing the boy. ‘They’re coming after us and leaving the people alone.’

‘Gargoyles, just like the Kiaka, are creatures that have a master—someone who gives them orders. It’s clear that whoever is behind this told them to target you,’ he purses his lips. ‘I thought the bracelet Rhiannon gave you would have helped.’

‘Why do you think they chose this celebration? Out in the open like this?’

‘Because you barely go out, Darcy. And, it seems, Rhiannon’s wards have become stronger so nothing can penetrate the house. The only option is to catch you outside of the manor.’

‘But the people…’

‘Do you think they care about the people? Not when the prize is right in front of them,’ he adds tersely, hugging me closer to his chest as he makes his way out of the marsh and into the forest, losing ourselves between the tall trees.

As we take cover behind a fallen log, Caleb gently lays me down.

‘We won’t be able to defeat all of them like this. I’m going to ask you to do something, darlin’. I’m sorry about this, but it’s the only thing that might help.’

‘What is it?’

‘This,’ he says as he rips another bit of material from my dress. ‘I need your blood on it to lure them away until I can find a weapon to fight them.’

‘But…’ I bite my lip, not liking the idea of being parted from him—of knowing he might be in danger. ‘Do you know how to fight a gargoyle?’

He gives a brisk nod.

‘They have impenetrable skin save for one spot under their right wing. But I need to get close enough to stab them there,’ he purses his lips. ‘There are four of them. I need to know you’re safe and away from them so I can focus on this. You get me?’

He seeks my gaze with his and I can see the worry reflected there.

‘Ok. We’ll do it your way. Just… Please take care. I don’t want you to get hurt,’ I take his hand in mine, squeezing tightly and bringing it to my lips for a good luck kiss.

He’s watching me intently, almost as if he’s memorizing my features.

‘I would do anything to keep you safe, Darcy. Anything,’ he emphasizes.

Leaning forward, he brushes his lips across my forehead.

‘Soon you’ll be mine. No more delays and no more excuses. I’m claiming every inch of you,’ he rasps against my skin.

Yet before I can reply, he’s off me. Taking his jacket off, he removes a switchblade from a pocket, and unsheathing the knife, he gives me a questioning look.

Extending my hand towards him, I point to my palm.

Gingerly taking my hand in his, he brings it to his mouth for a kiss before he lays the blade against my flesh.

‘I’m sorry,’ he whispers.

The pain is brief. Blood pools to the surface, and he wastes no time in smearing the red liquid all over the piece of fabric.

Moments trickle by and slowly, my wound starts closing. Yet it doesn’t happen as fast as before. The healing process is sluggish, and I anxiously wait for my wound to seal.

Eventually it does, and only a few errant drops of blood remain on my skin.

Bringing it to his lips, Caleb licks my hand clean before he gets to his feet.

‘Stay out of sight. If anything happens, run and find another hiding place. I’ll find you, don’t worry about me.’

With that, he’s gone.

More noises erupt in the air—howls from the gargoyles and screams from the people.

Though we’d drawn them away, I don’t doubt the others have to deal with the casualties and the destruction the gargoyles had wreaked around.

Fear mounts inside of me as I think of Caleb alone out there facing these terrifying creatures. Though I don’t doubt his physical prowess since I know he spent almost a decade in the army, these aren’t enemy troops he has to fight against. These are supernatural creatures with who knows what abilities.

Bringing my hands together, I say a quick prayer for Caleb, hoping he will be victorious and he will find me—as he promised.

At the same time, I can’t help but think about who would send the gargoyles after me.

I’m sure everyone will be quick to say it’s Amon. Yet why do I not believe that?

The sound of leaves rustling puts me on my guard just as it dawns on me that there are four.

Four against one.

Dear God, but how can Caleb survive against four creatures by himself?

The more I think of him overpowered and hurt, the more I blame myself and my uselessness. Not only am I in the middle of this conflict I want no part in, but I have absolutely no clue how to defend myself.

So what if I have these abilities? These healing powers? They are useless in open combat.

Some time passes as I continue to despair over Caleb, huddled against the fallen log and shielding myself from view.

A sudden thud gets my attention, and mustering enough courage, I move slightly out of my hiding place to gaze in the clearing ahead.

Nothing.

Thinking it might be a ground dweller and nothing else, I take a deep breath as I return to my spot. Yet the moment I turn, I come face to face with one of those ugly creatures.

A few feet from me, he’s staring at me with those red eyes, his nostrils flaring as it studies me.

The gargoyle’s skin is a muddy brown with an ashy tone. The wings themselves remind me of bat wings but one hundred times bigger.

And when he releases a loud howl, I realize that not only am I in trouble, he likely announced my location to his buddies.

Swallowing hard, I get to my feet, finding a piece of harder wood on the ground and using it as a sword-stick of sorts. Even in this life-and death situation I can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it.

I’m facing a creature with impenetrable skin and I’m waving a…twig?

It doesn’t matter, though, I’ll give my all to this fight. I’m not about to back down just because I’m ill equipped or not equipped at all for such a situation.

‘Bring it on, bad guy,’ I push my chin up, wielding the twig as I step over the log and back away.

The gargoyle is still in front of me, its eyes narrowing dangerously just as he takes a step forward.

His wings flap once and he’s in front of me.

Jesus, but he must be over ten feet tall.

I blink, my eyes widening as I realize I stand no chance.

Especially as one of his enormous hands reaches for me, his fingers wrapping around me even as I try to step out of his path.

Good Lord! Is he going to eat my head next?

Squeezing my eyes shut, I pray for a brief death.

Do you feel if someone rips your head off your body? I suppose you don’t get enough of a warning to do so, considering how fast he chewed that other man’s head off.

The scenarios are piling up in my mind at an alarming speed, and I barely realize that nothing happens. Not only is my head still attached to my body, but the gargoyle hasn’t moved an inch.

Slowly opening one eye, I realize why he hasn’t moved.

My entire body has an odd glow to it, and the gargoyle is tilting his head right and left as he’s studying me, probably as confused as I am with its origin.

Yet just as I’m about to start struggling in his hold—or do something with my twig—the gargoyle’s body explodes.

That’s it.

One moment I’m being held by this giant creature who’s probably wondering what I taste like, the next I’m falling to the ground covered in all types of gargoyle matter—his blood is gray!

My face scrunches up in disgust, especially as the stench hits me.

Not only did the whole giant gargoyle blow up, but so did his gut, which happened to be digesting all those human bits.

Bile rises up my throat, my stomach in knots as I drag myself away from the slaughter.

Of course, I’m very relieved to find myself still in possession of my head, and other limbs, but I still can’t wrap my head around what happened—pun intended.

It wasn’t me. That, I know for sure.

Whenever I’m using my abilities I can feel the energy surging around, almost like it’s a separate entity. This time, I’d felt nothing until I’d seen the odd glow surrounding my body before the gargoyle had detonated in front of me.

Still, not one to overly question my good luck, I take a few clean breaths as I force myself to my feet—a little wobbly from the surge of adrenaline and fear that still resides in my limbs.

When the thoughts of danger subside, I can only think of Caleb.

Is he fine? Is he…

I don’t even want to entertain the thought that something might have happened to him.

Knowing I cannot remain here with the gargoyle remains—who knows if they have a super developed sense of smell—I start in the direction Caleb had taken off.

At the same time, I know I’m also running the risk of discovery by virtue of my stained clothes alone.

Not a while later and I hear the sound of water—as well as remembering that Mr. Vaughan had told me about a river with a waterfall around Fairydale.

Thinking I could go and quickly rinse the gargoyle goo off my body, I follow the sound of water.

Luckily, it doesn’t take me long to find the river.

Despite being the beginning of October, the surrounding area is still somewhat green. The water is crisp and clear and exactly what I need.

Walking alongside the river bank, it takes me about five minutes to reach the waterfall.

Just like Mr. Vaughan had said, the view is breathtaking.

The waterfall is some fifteen feet, and the river currents don’t seem to be overly strong.

Satisfied with my assessment of the area and the fact that I could take a chance and clean myself, I waste no time in tugging the dress off my body, holding my breath every time I smell some gargoyle on me.

When I reach my underthings, I decide against taking them off. I guess I am a little daring, but not that adventurous.

Dipping my toes first, I wince at the first bite of the cold water.

We’re already in autumn, and the temperature in the river must have dropped a lot.

Still, it’s either that, or monster bodily fluids that might attract other monsters.

All things considered, I think I’m going to take my chances.

Steeling myself against the cold, I proceed to dive head first into the river. Surprisingly, it’s not very deep, and when I’m standing in the middle of it, the water only reaches the top of my breasts.

Smiling as my body acclimates to the coldness, I duck under water a few more times as I scrub my scalp. Blood, guts and probably bone got tangled in my hair, and it’s not exactly easy to get it out.

When I feel thoroughly clean and ready to go, I emerge to the surface and I start wading towards the shore.

Except…

‘I told you I’d find you, darlin’,’ Caleb smirks at me as he’s leaning against a tree.

I gasp at his sudden appearance, but I forget all about my shame as I study him carefully for any sign of injury.

Even better, he helps my perusal as he takes off his shirt and pants until he remains only in his underwear.

My cheeks heat despite the coldness of the water, yet I can’t look away.

It’s my first time seeing a man in such a state of deshabille, and I have to admit, I am not disappointed.

Just like my first impression of him, Caleb Hale is a mountain of a man. His body is only muscle, his abs hard and defined, his thighs equally as powerful. Every inch of him is pure brawn, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more mouth-watering sight.

‘What happened?’ I ask as he dives into the water, slowly coming towards me. ‘What about the gargoyles? Are they…’

‘They’re dead,’ he confirms and I release a relieved breath.

‘Thank God,’ I exclaim. ‘And you? Are you hurt anywhere?’

He shakes his head, that arresting smile still playing at his lips.

‘I killed three, and a fourth I found already dead. You left the clearing,’ he raises a brow.

‘I couldn’t stay and wait for more to appear,’ I grumble. ‘And I was covered in gargoyle bodily fluids, not exactly the best perfume on the market.’

He chuckles as he reaches my side. He brings his hands on my shoulders as he stabilizes me next to him.

‘What happened to it?’

I give him a short summary, finding him as perplexed as I was at how easily the creature had exploded.

Pursing his lips, he seems deep in thought.

‘But,’ I nibble at my bottom lip. ‘I wonder if they weren’t here to kill me?’ I ask, a theory going through my mind.

‘You would be right. Whoever wants to use your blood would not risk that. They would kidnap you to have it all readily available. The gargoyles were your escorts, so to speak,’ he laughs.

‘I’m conflicted, Caleb. Why now? Why not when I went alone to Mr. Nicholson’s house?’

‘Why indeed,’ he muses, though his expression tells me the exact reason.

‘Is it him?’ I ask on a whisper. ‘Is it him who wants me? But why if we’re related? I just can’t make sense of this.’

‘Don’t trust anyone, Darcy,’ he states resolutely as he cups my cheeks with his big palms. ‘Everyone is looking out for their own interests. You must do so as well.’

‘What about you?’ I draw back, searching his face. ‘Are you looking for your interests as well?’

Yet there’s the unspoken question.

What are your interests?

So far I’ve inferred that both Rhiannon and Mr. Nicholson have a stake in Amon’s imprisonment and though I don’t know what their personal goal is, I am sure it has something to do with that ritual they want me to help with.

Yet Caleb?

He’s secretive and mysterious. So far, I haven’t been able to pinpoint what his goal is.

‘Of course,’ he readily admits. ‘And I only have one interest,’ he continues as if reading my mind.

I tilt my head as I wait for his answer.

‘You,’ he declares.

‘Me?’ I echo, confused.

‘You’ve asked me about war before, sweetheart,’ he sighs. ‘It’s true that I’ve seen many wars. I’ve fought too many battles to count. At some point in my life, all I knew was devastation. I did as I was told because I never knew otherwise. I never knew how to live my life without bloodshed. But then I met you and…’ he smiles. ‘You’re just a ray of sunshine, aren’t you? Making everyone fall in love with you everywhere you go.’

‘F-fall in love?’ I falter, afraid I didn’t understand him right.

‘Yes, Darcy darlin’. That is exactly what I mean. I’ve fallen in love with you. Fast. Hard. So fucking deep. Like I never thought I would fall for someone,’ he confesses, his voice thick with emotion.

My lids flutter as I regard him, committing his features to memory as he looks in this moment—all hard edges and killer aura. Yet there’s the gentlest smile on his lips, and the most intoxicating love in his gaze, and I know he speaks the truth.

Slowly, as if he’s handling a precious jewel, he brings me closer to his body.

All the while, his gaze is on me to gauge my reactions, showing me that he can be a true gentleman mindful of my sensibilities.

‘I want you to be mine, darlin’. I want to taste and worship every inch of you, drive you so fucking mad with passion, you will never think of anyone else but me. Only ever me. That’s what I need sweetheart,’ he growls, almost as if frustrated with himself. ‘I want to keep you to myself, tuck you away from the world and protect you from all the dangers out there, all the perversities and all the fucked up shit that goes in this fucked up world. I only want that for you,’ he breathes harshly. ‘I only want you to be mine, Darcy darlin’. Now, tomorrow and to the end of time.’

‘Caleb…’

I don’t get to speak as he fits his lips to mine in what can only be considered an assault to the senses.

The previous kiss I’d given him is quickly forgotten as I realize I’d been playing a child’s game. Then, I’d brushed my lips against his in what I considered to be a kiss.

Now, he proves me wrong.

He channels all the aggression, all the emotion bottled up within him in this kiss, his lips on mine, his mouth devouring mine until I lose myself.

Until just like he said, I become his and only his.

But just as it starts, it’s over.

He draws back, breathing hard and studying me closely for my reaction.

He’s testing the ground.

But how dare he give me a taste of paradise only to take it away?

Wounding my arms around his neck, I raise myself on the tips of my toes—easily done in the water—and I press myself against him.

The length of my body meets his just as I reclaim my kiss.

‘Fucking hell, Darcy,’ he curses against my mouth before he kisses me like I never thought a kiss could be.

His tongue dives into my mouth, meeting mine and inviting it to a tantalizing dance that has me squirming against him. Heat builds up in my body—so much so, the water must be boiling by now.

Dragging his open mouth on top of mine, he gives me a languid lick. Then another. Almost as if he’s tasting and savoring me.

A deep groan erupts from his throat as he brings his big hands to my bottom, cupping my ass and inviting me to open my legs so he can step between them, so he can bring his hardness in contact with my center and…

‘Caleb,’ I moan into his mouth. ‘What…’

‘Tell me you’re mine. Tell me you’re mine, love,’ he chants, nibbling at my lips between earth-shattering kisses. ‘Tell me!’ he suddenly demands.

‘I’m yours,’ I agree. ‘Yours,’ I repeat as I emulate his movements, threading my hands through his thick hair and biting at his lips.

‘That’s it,’ he speaks softly, encouragingly. ‘Just like that, darlin’. Suck my tongue in your mouth,’ he commands, and I can only obey. ‘Fuck, you’re so hot,’ he rasps, alternating between kissing me deeply and licking my face as if he wouldn’t want to leave any inch of me untasted.

Just like he promised.

‘I never knew kissing could be so…’ I trail off, simply at a loss of words.

My breathing is harsh, my heart hammering in my chest and my soul…my soul is singing in my body, asking to be let out for a true mating dance with this man.

Heat builds inside of me, so much so it’s close to bursting to the surface.

All the passion. All the longing. All the…want.

All that I’ve repressed before is now emerging—is now coming to the surface for this man, and this man alone.

‘You make me hot, Caleb,’ I admit, slowly biting on my lip as I bring my naked gaze to his. ‘You make me want to shed all my inhibitions and everything that holds me back. But I…’

‘Marry me,’ he suddenly says.

My eyes grow wide as I still in his arms.

‘W-what?’ I stammer.

Did I hear him right? Did he just ask me to…marry him?

‘Marry me, Darcy,’ he repeats, and I can sense the sincerity that laces his voice, as does the emotion and the true desire behind his words.

He…wants this.

‘What? How? I…’

‘It’s not only this maddening attraction that’s simmering between us. It’s also the fact that you bring me more peace than I’ve ever known,’ he tells me with a soft smile. ‘I respect your principles and I would never try to pressure you into doing anything you didn’t want or weren’t ready for. But I also want to make my commitment clear to you. I want you—and everything that you are.’

‘T-that’s a lot to take in. I’ve never been proposed to before,’ I let out a nervous laugh.

‘Well, you better not, or I would have to comb down this world and get rid of every man who thought he could have a shot with you.’

I giggle at the absurdity, but why do I have the impression he’s not kidding.

‘Marriage is a big thing,’ I continue.

‘Exactly. It’s a lifelong commitment—and beyond. So marry me, Darcy. Be mine—forever.’

The sun is setting, the sky turning into an orange hue as the light becomes sparser and spares. Still it’s enough to illuminate his handsome features and his black, black eyes that hold my heart captive.

In spite of everything that has happened—in spite of my dreams and visions, and admittedly strange encounters with Amon—I cannot deny that Caleb owns my heart.

Slowly yet steadily, I’ve been falling for him from day one.

A pang of guilt reverberates in my chest as I think of Amon, but he’s nothing more than an echo of the past—if that’s even real.

There are too many doubts to even begin assembling a concrete picture.

He’s…a demon—a captive demon believed to terrorize the entire town.

Caleb is a man. A flesh and blood man that’s present before me, telling me he is in love with me.

‘Ok,’ I whisper, deciding to push my thoughts about Amon aside—shove them into a little box and seal it shut.

Caleb is the present. He is my now. And he is the one who’s been on my side—fighting for me and with me from day one.

‘I’ll marry you.’