Chapter 4

“W-Who are you?” My voice stammered. Shit like someone hiding in my wardrobe had never happened in the past thirteen years I’d lived in the tower. A hundred questions swirled on the forefront of my mind. I touched my waist and drew a blade from my belt because every woman needed protection. Metal never did anything to the gargoyle, but I’d seen other monsters that weren’t made of stone and my dad hadn’t raised a fool.

Maybe he can help you escape the tower.

“What are you talking about?” I lowered my chin, speaking to myself, needing to clear my muddled thoughts. Was he going to hurt me—or could he potentially help me with my problem?

Gingernuts was at my side, hissing at the newcomer. I attempted to wrap my brain around a solution.

The stranger emerged from the shadows. He towered over my five-foot-two height. He had to be at least six feet. Handsome didn’t come close to describing the man-god in front of me. Full lips, a slender nose, a sharp jawline—everything perfectly symmetrical. His strength showed in his corded neck, wide shoulders, muscular arms, and firm chest.

Warmth flooded deep in my stomach. Okay, so the universe might have just delivered one of my wishes: a sexy man all for myself. But I’d grown up on the streets with my dad. I’d seen all kinds of nice-looking people be downright rotten inside.

Even in his black pants and leather tunic reserved for aristocrats, he reminded me of the guards at Brawl. They had one intention: complete their mission regardless of who they stepped over.

So why the hell was a man who looked ready to wrestle a wolf hiding in my wardrobe? Or was he from one of the royal families in Haven Realm?

Intensity filled his green eyes. His attention swung from me to the window, and he limped toward the exit, breathless. I froze, convinced he’d dive right out of the tower. Instead, he flattened his back to the wall before peering outside. Was he hiding from the gargoyle?

“What are you doing in my home?”

His gaze slid down my body and to the ocean of hair sprawled around my feet.

I wiggled my weapon at him. “Talk unless you want a crash course in flying.”

That’s right—jab him in the eye.

I lowered my gaze. “What? That’s a bit serial killer.”

He’s in your home, hiding. What if he was waiting for you to sleep so he could rape you?

“Gods, you’re so dramatic. Then why would he have come out of the cupboard?”

“You talking to me?” he asked. “Or the fuzzball, or…? I had no idea a crazy woman lived here.”

I lifted my head to find Mr. Handsome studying me with a raised brow. “Hey, don’t judge me.” I waved the blade in the air between us. “You know nothing about me. And you don’t see me making remarks about you, like how you probably work out most nights to build those muscles. Maybe you have something else to compensate for.” I wiggled my eyebrows. “Or you perhaps don’t have many friends with such an arrogant attitude. Or even how your clothes are torn, as if you’ve been attacked. You look strong enough to take down a dragon. Yet you’re hiding in my wardrobe. So that tells me you’re most likely a criminal.”

He took a deep inhale, his chest expanding, drawing my attention to the muscles, and I shoved away the images of him topless appearing in my head. Instead, I studied the cuts across his knuckles and along his strong forearms. Who had he been fighting?

He whispered, “Listen, Fluffy. You and Fuzzball can relax. I’m not going to hurt you. I just need a quick place to hide, then I’m out of here.” His attention returned to the woodland surrounding the field below. Then he stared back my way. “And what is with the hair? Are you going for the title of “longest golden locks in the world”? And how come the cat’s fur is short now?”

I patted down my hair and found strands sticking outward. Having someone in my tower and knowing I lived here would lead to problems. He’d tell his friends to go and gawk at the freak, then the gargoyle would try to kill them, and I’d feel guilty. Nope, I didn’t need that on my conscience. “Tell me what you’re doing here!”

“Keep quiet, Princess,” he mumbled to himself, waving me off with a hand as he scanned the forest. He didn’t see me as a threat at all—merely treated me as an inconvenience. Who the hell was this man to come into my home and walk all over me?

Fire hit my chest. “How dare you talk to me like that?” I marched up to him and kicked the back of his knee.

That’s it. Take him down.

He groaned and fell forward, his arms flaying outward for balance to avoid falling out the window.

When he dropped to his knees, I lunged after him and swung my blade, pressing it to his throat. “Speak,” I hissed in his ear. “Because I’m crazy, you know, so my knife might slip.”

“You’re a wannabe princess in a tower, and you have no idea who you’re dealing with.” His gravelly voice littered my skin with goosebumps—not from fear, but from just how rousingly sexy he sounded. Fine. I had a problem with husky male voices. They were my weakness big time.

“Why are you here and who are you?” I demanded.

Another loud sigh from him.

“Hurry up and answer,” I said.

Stop wasting time. Just jab once and toss him outside. Easy.

“What’s wrong with you? You tell me to stab everyone lately.”

In a flash, Mr. Handsome grasped my knife-wielding hand and wrenched me forward in the time it took him to leap to his feet.

I cried out as I lurched forward, except his grip never loosened. He yanked me back around, and I crashed into his rock-hard chest.

My breaths expelled, but he already walked me backward at a brisk pace and pinned me to the wall on the other side of the window. Electricity ignited in the pit of my stomach.

I gasped and writhed under him, but he held on to me, and I might as well have been trapped between two boulders. Yet something roused within me—something thrilling and provoking. The way his eyes pierced into me left me curious to understand who exactly this man was. Why I found myself strangely attracted to him when any normal person would have thrown him out the window for trespassing in their home. But I couldn’t toss him to the gargoyle. Not when his fingers pressed into my arms, his body plastered against mine, and his breaths sped up.

“My name’s Reed.” He kept his voice low, as if afraid someone would hear him outside while he wrested the blade from my hand and tossed it to the floor.

I sizzled with heat at being so close to him, though it wasn’t as if I hadn’t been with a man. In the past few years, I’d explored the opposite sex, their manliness, how they stirred something raw within me, and I even dated one for a while. His name was Gage, and I still pined for him. He had been deliciously exciting, but it didn’t work out because I couldn’t tell him where I lived, or why I could only meet him at the night.

He’d once followed me home, and I freaked out. I’d screamed at him to never visit my place. I’d broken it off, terrified of what could have happened. Telling him about the gargoyle wasn’t an option because he’d confront the creature and end up dying.

But now with Reed towering over me and his body wedged up against mine, a spark within rallied forward, and I pushed aside my worries for a few moments. I couldn’t stop myself from wondering what it would be like to touch all his muscles. My body trembled beneath him while my head screamed to get the hell out of there.

Can’t believe you’re thinking about this now.

“Someone is hunting my pride.” His words sliced through my desires, yet he wasn’t moving away. “And I took refuge in this tower, thinking the place was abandoned. I mean you no harm. Just a few moments longer to stay undetected is all I ask.”

My heartbeat raced as his words sunk in and made sense. I glanced up, noting the recent gash across his chin, another on his collarbone. My thoughts flew to the times I’d run away from the gargoyle and the few people who’d helped by giving me a ride on their carriage or feeding me. They were my heroes because they hadn’t pushed me away when I’d needed help. So how could I refuse to assist Reed?

He’s lying.

“Pride? As in lion shifter?”

He shook himself and right before me, his pupils morphed into vertical slit-shaped pupils, and a deep growl rumbled in his throat.

I stopped fighting and froze because fear chewed on my insides.

“You get it now, Princess.”

“Don’t call me that. But who’s chasing you? Poachers? A king or queen? Or maybe the priestess ruling over human Terra realm. I hear she’s nasty and hates shifters. What have you done to upset them?”

With a quick glance outside, he replied. “My pride members are vanishing, as are other shifters in Darkwoods. Someone is kidnapping them. No bodies are found; they just disappear. This morning I followed my sister’s screams in the forest, only to find a hooded figure dragging her away by a chain tied to her neck. Others attacked me, each wearing a black collar as if they were someone’s pet, and I only survived by running like a coward.” His voice fell and he looked away, enough for his hold to slacken.

I shoved him aside and moved to stand across the room, keeping my eyes on him. I felt for his plight. “So you hid in my tower to get away?”

He nodded, and only now that he stood in the sun’s full glow did I see the real extent of his wounds. The bleeding scratches on his ear and neck, the blood blotting his shirt and pants from cuts, as if someone had slashed him with dozens of knives. And my heart went out to him because I understood getting hunted, feeling defeated, beaten without pity.

“I had spotted a ginger cat scaling the tower using the vines that circle the building. It had freaky hair but not as long as yours now. I didn’t care. I only cared about surviving. So I followed the animal.”

What? “Gingernuts, you’ve been going out at night?” I stared down at him, wrapped in my blonde locks. He stopped rolling through my hair and meowed short and sharp. “You’ve so been busted.” This explained all the critters I’d found in the tower.

Reed kept glancing outside and back to me.

I hated to see someone in fear for their life. “I have a friend who’s a beaver shifter and—”

He cocked an eyebrow. “A beaver shifter? Is that even a thing or are you making it up?”

I scoffed. “Are you being shifter-ist? Yes, it’s real. Anyway, she had someone hunting her down over a year ago for her fur.” She didn’t know where I lived either or about the gargoyle as I was too afraid to tell anyone. What if they wouldn’t believe me to stay away during the day? They might visit me and get killed.

Reed studied me, his eyes glazing over as the corners of his mouth twitched. Was he about to break into a smile while I told a serious story? “Keep going,” he offered.

“Well, the two men were relentless and followed her everywhere until one day when they cornered her in the woods. They insisted her fur would bring a princely sum in the Terra realm. If it weren’t for a passing wolf shifter who came to her rescue, she’d be dead. Even today, she’s terrified to go outside alone.” I swallowed the hurt at remembering her tears, the way she shook each time she spoke of the incident, and studied Reed. He must have felt lost and trapped.

“It pisses me off that people did that to her,” I added. “Ruined her life for their own selfish greed. So I’m sorry it’s happening to you as well. And I’ll help you if I can. I’ll get bandages for your cuts.” I turned toward the bathroom glancing over my shoulder. “You can hide in my tower for as long as you need. I won’t hurt you.”

He cocked a brow, as if he were about to burst out laughing at my suggestion.

“No, thanks. I’ve intruded enough. I’ll leave shortly and not bring danger to your doorstep. I have to find my sister.”

“I insist.” Not taking no for an answer, I rushed into the bathroom and collected bandages, a towel, and a small container with water.

With everything set on the table, he took a seat on the chair, and I plonked down in front of him. Drenching the corner of the towel, I wrung out the water and took his arm with a gash running from elbow to wrist. Then I patted down the injury, cleaning the blood. “What did they cut you with? Your skin looks ripped apart.”

“A jagged blade. Bastards were not going to let me get my sister back.” His eyes hooded, and I kept cleaning him up, before wrapping his arm. When shit happened, sometimes silence was the best companion.

“You’re very kind,” he said in a soft voice and pushed a strand of hair behind my ear. His light touch left me buzzing. “How come I haven’t seen you around?”

I shrugged. “I’m more of a night owl.”

“Me too.” He offered me a cute smile. “Maybe we can meet up somewhere in a couple of weeks. I’m praying I track down my sister by then.”

“Like a date?” Heat rushed up my neck.

“If you want to call it that. I’ll come back and see you.”

Panic strangled me, and I straightened in my seat. “Maybe better if we meet in a week’s time outside Brawl just after dusk. What do you think?”

“Sounds good.”

A dozen questions whirred in my head. Once I finished cleaning and bandaging him, he got up and checked outside. “I better go.”

But as I got up, he marched to my side and without warning, he leaned in, and his lips brushed mine. Soft and quick, but enough to rock me at the core. My heart fluttered and butterflies swarmed through my stomach. His hand rested below my ear, his thumb stroking my cheek. Our breaths merged before he broke away.

“A little something,” he said, his voice strong and deep. “To tide me over until we meet again.”

I wasn’t ready to let him go and reached out for him when a huge shadow fell over the window, blotting out the light in the tower. The gargoyle. I gasped.

“Shit. Move!” Panic gripped me. I hauled him away from the window, but within that same moment, he was ripped from my grasp.

He got sucked out the window, his cry echoing through the tower like a ghost’s moan.

My heart slammed into my chest, and I darted after him, my hand reaching out for his leg, but it was too late.

The gargoyle had him by an arm and flew across the open land. Guilt sawed on my insides. What had I done? Would the gargoyle beat him senseless? Kill him like the other people? I held my churning stomach.

“Put him down,” I screamed, but my words fell on deaf ears. The creature had never paid me attention before, so he wouldn’t now. I should have hidden Reed, told him to keep quiet until nightfall. I never expected him to hear our conversation.

My eyes were glued on the monstrosity carrying the kicking and thrashing lion shifter. And just above the canopy of trees, he dropped him. My stomach iced over.

The gargoyle swooped in after him and plucked him out before dropping him again. A strangled cry bubbled in my throat. Fear imprisoned me in its straitjacket, and I couldn’t do anything but cry.

I contemplated going after him, but then what?

Get beaten again, and how long will it take for your ribs to heal this time?

I swallowed the mountain in my throat, and I fell to my knees in front of my window and sobbed in my hands. Hating my life. Hating the gargoyle. Hating that I felt useless and so hopeless.

“I want the gargoyle dead, blown to a million pieces, torn apart, along with this goddamn tower.” Every inch of me trembled, but when the distinct flap of the wings sounded nearby, I jerked my head up.

The gargoyle returned, his wide wings sailing through the sky.

I jostled backward and rushed into my bedroom to the farthest corner. His shadow flew over the window and landed on the roof with a thud. I flinched. Heavy footfalls pounded overhead, then silenced.

I slid to a crouched position and hugged my knees, my vision blurred with tears. Was Reed dead?

Forget about him. You’re lucky not to get beaten.

But forgetting was an impossibility. Like my entire fucked-up life. My tears rolled free. Breaths came in shallow gasps. Death surrounded my life, and I barely battled to keep my head above water.

Something nudged my leg, and I looked down at Gingernuts, rubbing himself against me and purring. I collected him into my lap and crossed my legs. “What would I do without you? You’re all I have.”

Hey, and me!

“You don’t count because you’re just my mind gone haywire.”

Heaviness pulled at my puffy eyes, so I climbed into bed with Gingernuts and curled in on myself, unable to stop picturing Reed swinging in the gargoyle’s arms. Was he out there somewhere dying? As soon as nightfall came, I’d find him. Until then, I’d pray he held on until I arrived.