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Their Own Sanctuary
Lacey Carter Andersen
Copyright 2019
Published by Lacey Carter Andersen
Editing by Melissa
This work of fiction is intended for mature audience only. All
characters are over the age of eighteen. Names, characters, places,
and incidents are either a product of the author's imagination or are
used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any persons, living or dead,
business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States
of America. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the
material or artwork herein is prohibited without the express written
permission of the author.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Disclaimer
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
M edusa
I swear I can hear the twins laughing, even this far away
from our little house in the trees. I’m sure they coaxed their dads
into piggy back rides. The stinkers just have to give my guys a smile,
and four giant gargoyles are tumbling over each other to give them
the moon. I can actually picture our two dark-haired daughters
pulling on their dads’ hair, giggling like maniacs.
Damn it, maybe they have me under their little thumbs too...
Smiling, I spread my arms out in the water. I’m sure I can’t
actually hear them laughing, but I’ve seen exactly this scenario a
thousand times. It’s funny though. This is my time to relax. This is
my time to drift in the warmest lake in the gargoyles’ sanctuary,
relaxing to the sound of the rushing water from the waterfall.
Despite that, all I can do is think about are the four sexy gargoyles I
left behind and our beautiful daughters.
There must be something wrong with me.
Sighing, I force my eyes closed and try to keep my breathing
even. Harold thinks if I can learn to meditate, I might not be so high
strung. Of course, he's too sweet to actually say high strung, but
freaking Bryon does.
So, here I am. I finished my bath and I'm meditating in the most
peaceful place imaginable, and still, I can’t relax. I feel like
something under my skin is always buzzing, as if my pulse can’t stop
racing. Maybe it’s from all my years being hunted as a monster and
attacked by idiot heroes. Or maybe it’s just that I have children.
That’s its own kind of never-ending, exhausting battle.
Or maybe I am a little high strung after all.
My hand brushes something soft in the water. I freeze and my
eyes pop open. There, floating on its back, is the strangest creature
imaginable.
Is it some little beaver, cursed by magic?
An ugly duckling kind of thing?
I stand up in the water, trying not to move too quickly or make
too much noise. I study the animal a little more carefully. I still don’t
know what it is... but it might be dead.
Frowning, I lean over a little closer. Sure enough, its little chest is
rising and falling.
Thank goodness!
It’s got almost a duck-bill on its furry face, strange webbed feet,
and a sleek body—almost like a beaver. Like three animals smashed
together. Something tingles the back of my thoughts. I know what it
is! A platypus!
And the poor thing looks sick. Or hurt.
I touch its smooth fur, and the creature’s eyes open. Sure
enough, there’s pain in its gaze.
For a while, I just pet it gently until it very slowly flips around in
the water. It comes closer. One of its back legs barely moving as it
does so. In fact, it holds that leg tightly against its body, and then
presses its face against my arm, rubbing softly. This creature really
is a sweet little thing!
My mind goes to the hundreds of cats and dogs I’ve befriended
over my two thousand years. I’m usually too much of a mess to
have an actual pet, but I’ve missed all my furry-friends. This little
guy might be a bit strange, but I find that I instantly like him.
He’s got a sweet nature.
Wrapping my arms around it, I’m relieved when it snuggles more
closely. I can’t help it if it won’t let me, so I'm relieved that it seems
to accept that I’m not a threat.
Maybe the healer can help figure out what’s wrong with it.
I lift it out of the water and it snuggles between my naked
breasts. As it looks up at me with those big, sad eyes, I walk onto
the shore. Almost instantly, a shadow falls over me. A familiar
shadow.
Bryon hits the ground in front of me, shifting from his gargoyle
form into that of a man in seconds. As always, I enjoy watching the
change. There’s just something sexy about him when his flesh is the
color of wet stone, and he resembles a very hot statue of a man.
And also something so sexy about the tall human-looking version of
himself, with big muscles, a dark beard, and a face that’s always just
a tad grumpy.
His dark gaze narrows as he looks from me to the creature I
hold. “What the hell is that?”
Mr. Grumpy isn’t happy about my new pet? Surprise, surprise!
I smile and look down at it, hiding my amusement at his
reaction. “A platypus, and I think it’s hurt.”
Noticing how little it moves, I feel my smile falter. I hope it isn’t
hurt that badly.
“Hurt?” Bryon repeats. “Who the fuck cares if it’s hurt? Drop it,
and move away. It could be dangerous!”
Glancing up, I meet his dark gaze, trying not to laugh. Is he
really worried about this little creature? I mean, Bryon’s the size of a
mountain. Does he actually think that he can’t protect me if the furry
animal suddenly becomes a danger to me?
“Are you actually scared of it?” I ask, in a teasing voice.
He puffs himself up. “I’m not scared of anything! But I don’t want
some freaky creature touching my woman!”
I pet its head, and it makes a soft sound, almost like it's purring.
“Relax, it’s sweet!”
Bryon advances and glares down at it. “Look at those talons on
its claws! It’s probably poisonous!”
I raise my eyebrows. “Yeah, and cats are dangerous too.” I give a
mockingly frightened look at the sky. “Careful, those song birds are
making me nervous! They might just be plotting to overthrow
mankind!”
If looks could kill, I’d be dead right now. “Put it down.”
I shake my head, leveling him with the same stubborn glare that
my daughters have perfected. “I’m going to bring it to the healer,
and you’re not going to stop me.”
A tense moment stretches between us. I know Bryon’s natural
instinct is to protect me at any cost, but he’s been working on giving
me more freedom. We have talked at length about him learning to
trust my judgment. I know right now he’s arguing with himself
whether or not he can stop me without this becoming a big thing.
Which he’s absolutely right to worry about. It’ll be a cold day in
hades before I abandon an injured animal.
I used to try to hide this “softer” side of myself. I mean, all
people saw was Medusa, a woman who could kill with just a glance.
But now that I’m in a sanctuary, without any humans to accidentally
kill, and only gargoyles and magical creatures who are immune to
my powers, my sunglasses are stowed away and my softer side is
coming out a little more often.
And if Bryon doesn’t like it... too bad.
Bryon folds his arms over his chest, but I can already see I’ve
won this fight. Score one for me! “You at least plan to get dressed
first...?”
Giving him my most innocent look, I say. “But how am I going to
choose my next Brotherhood of Gargoyles if I’m not sure who finds
me attractive?”
That look comes over his face, the one that turns me on. He
stomps toward me, completely ignoring the creature in my arms,
and grabs me by the back of the head. His possessive mouth
captures mine, crushing my lips with his passion and his anger.
For a minute, I’m lost. I'm lost in the way he feels, the way he
sends fire racing through my body.
When his lips part, I stick my tongue in.
He groans and tears his lips from mine. “You were not supposed
to enjoy that,” he says, panting.
I reach down with one hand and cup his erection through his
pants. “I enjoy every fucking inch of you.”
A shudder moves through his body. “Either get dressed, or I’m
tossing that little beast back in the lake and taking you home.”
I grin. “I’ll get dressed, but you’ll have to hold it while I do.”
Before he can argue, I dump the little creature into his arms.
He scowls down at it. “I don’t like this.”
I dress quickly, trying to ignore my heated body. I have to forget
how good Bryon’s hard dick felt through his pants, and focus on our
argument.
Easier said than done. “You don’t like the platypus?” I ask, and
hate that my words are a little breathless.
The little creature is rubbing against Bryon, looking about as
innocent as a creature could look.
“Don’t these things only exist in Australia? How the hell did it end
up here? How did it get through the sanctuary wards and into one of
our rivers?”
I raise a brow, taking a deep breath to clear my head. “Does it
matter? It needs our help?”
He scoffs. “Of course it matters!”
Shaking my head, I can’t help but grin. I love my gargoyles, but
they’ve got to be the only people in this world who actually think
Medusa is fragile and in need of protection.
When I'm dressed, I reach for the creature again, but Bryon
simply holds it tighter. “If you’re going to insist on this, then I’m
holding it.”
An argument forms on my lips, but I let it die. Bryon is as
stubborn as I am. If I don’t want him chucking the creature, I might
have to meet him halfway on this.
“Okay, let’s go!”
He doesn’t look relieved as we head for the gargoyle village. “You
know the others won’t like this.”
I think of my husbands. Marcus will flip. Forrest will probably
want to keep the little guy as a pet, and Harold will want to nurse it
back to health, but keep it far from me.
I guess we’ll see.
Chapter Two
M arcus
I don’t like that damn creature.
The four of us glare at the little animal swimming playfully
around in the river beneath our house. One of its back legs is still
wrapped, but I’ve watched it grow stronger over the past two
weeks. Now, I’m sure it’s just faking it.
Any wild animal would be gone. So why is this one still hanging
around?
Medusa is kneeling down beside the pool with the twins, tossing
the platypus little fish. Bryon, Harold, and Forrest are all right next to
them. I told them to be nearby to make sure the platypus doesn't
get too close to our women. If it does, it will regret it.
The platypus turns, and our eyes meet. For a second too long
our gazes lock, and then it goes back to playfully splashing around.
There’s something wrong with that fucking thing.
And yet, Medusa won’t hear a bad word about it. She and the
twins just carry on, as if it’s their new pet. Which it is not.
When the healer’s shadow crosses over the pond, I watch as she
lands near my family. For a minute, I just observe her. The older
woman looks happy today, which is a good thing for all of us. Since
she’s gifted with The Sight, a foul mood often means she’s seen
something dangerous in our future. And now that the future includes
our woman and children, Gelena’s moods are even more important
to me.
Taking a deep breath, I feel a little weight leave my shoulders.
Now, to deal with the weird creature. I lift off from the balcony of
our treehouse and fly down until I land beside her.
“You’ve come to check its injury?” I ask, and even I know I
sound a bit grumpy.
Galena grins, watching Medusa and the creature. “As asked,” she
says, her tone far too chipper.
Why does she have to enjoy how much we hate this so much? Or
maybe Galena just likes seeing our village women happy. They are
the future of our people, after all. And Galena’s Sight stuff makes
her pretty obsessed with the future, which I guess I understand.
But either way, I find this whole thing irritating as hell.
When Galena shifts out of her gargoyle form, her large wings
disappear, and her beautiful grey skin turns back to a human-color.
She wordlessly takes a fish from Medusa and lures the platypus
closer, dangling the fish. It takes the bait, and while it snacks, the
healer unwraps its legs and studies it.
“How is he?” Medusa asks, a little too worried for my taste.
The healer stands. “I think the beast is all better.”
Medusa looks sad. Probably imagining how it’ll soon be gone. “I
guess... that’s good.”
But the twins clap, their tiny pigtails bouncing. Despite how wary
I am of the little beast, I’m suddenly overwhelmed by my daughters’
happiness. Their entire eyes light up when they smile, and their tiny
dimples form in their cheeks.
Kneeling down, I smile at my three-year-old angels. “You girls
happy it’s all better?”
Bella’s smile widens. “Platty better!”
“Platty so cute!” Trinity chimes in.
Damn it all to hell, I’ve been wanting this thing gone since the
first time I saw it, but now, I’m imagining how much it’ll hurt my
little girls when it leaves. My grumpy heart seems to grow four sizes
bigger. If they cry when this thing leaves, we’re never getting a pet
again.
“Now that he’s all better, he probably has to find his family and
go home,” I say in my softest, gentlest voice.
Oh crap, Bella has that look in her eyes. Her mouth narrows, and
her arms cross in front of her chest. “He’s not going!”
Trinity, on the other hand, looks like she wants to cry. “Platty is
going?”
I look to Forrest and Harold. They’re usually the ones who handle
the twins when they get emotional. Bryon and I have already
decided that we’ll be the ones beating the crap out of anyone who’s
unkind to them in the future. That’s what we’re good at—fighting,
not emotions.
Harold comes over and kneels down beside the girls, radiating his
usual calmness. “We know you both love Platty.”
Bella eyes him suspiciously. “Yes.”
“And that you want Platty to be happy,” he continues.
A little of the fire goes out of Bella’s eyes, and Trinity comes over
and curls up against Harold.
“But Platty is a wild animal. Now that he’s all better, he needs to
go back to his home.”
Bella’s arms tighten against her little chest. “No!”
“But—“ Harold begins.
“No!” she shouts her favorite word again.
Harold looks to Forrest.
Forrest's green eyes twinkle with amusement, and he trots over.
Before any of us know what he has planned, he hoists Bella up onto
his shoulders. She squeals and uncrosses her angry little arms to
grab his hair. Then, with his free arm, he pulls Trinity in front of him.
All three of them are laughing as Forrest takes off, racing around.
I realize I’m smiling when my gaze locks with Bryon’s, and so is
he. Immediately, our smiles fade.
“Medusa...” I begin.
She looks up, frowning. “I know he has to go, but I’m going to
miss him.”
Harold wraps an arm around her and says nothing. They simply
feed the little beast together.
A thousand words spring to my lips, about how keeping a
Platypus is illogical in every way. I even make it through five
different arguments in my mind about the logistics of it, before I
give in and sigh. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that Medusa
doesn’t appreciate my careful planning in things like this. Harold’s
words always ring in my head. “Don’t try to fix it. Just be there for
her.”
So, fighting all of my natural instincts, I sit down beside Medusa
and help feed the platypus. Immediately, I know I’ve made the right
decision, because Medusa turns to me with that smile, the one that
reminds me so much of our daughters. Because there are no
humans in our sanctuary, or weak magical creatures, Medusa
doesn’t have to wear her sunglasses here. That means I get to see
how her smile reaches her eyes.
It’s the most beautiful thing in this world.
Reaching out, I brush back the hair from her face and lean closer.
Our lips touch in an instant, and the world drifts away around us. My
dick hardens, and my heart races. It’s been two days... I need more
than a kiss from my sexy woman.
When we break apart, panting, I realize everyone is watching us,
including Galena.
The older gargoyle smiles. “Perhaps I could bring the girls to help
pick herbs for a few hours, after they’ve gotten a chance to say
goodbye to their pet. You guys could have some alone time, and
some time to take the creature some place safe.”
I almost say, fuck yes, but I’m learning.
Harold looks at Medusa. “What do you think? Are you ready to
say goodbye?”
I hold my breath, all of the arguments forming in my mind once
more.
She looks back at the creature, her eyes sad. “It’s what’s best for
him.”
Behind her back, Bryon and I give a long distant high-five. As
much as we don’t want to see our girls sad, we’re more than done
with this suspicious little creature.
“I guess we should go tell Bella and Trinity then.” Harold looks to
where Forrest is still racing around with them, all laughing.
This part won’t be fun. But like pulling off a bandage, we need to
do it quickly. Then we’ll be rewarded with sex. Not a bad day at all,
if I do say so myself.
Chapter Three
M edusa
I’m glad we were able to cheer the girls up and get them to
understand that it’s time for our pet to leave, but it still broke my
heart. I wonder if I can convince the guys we need a puppy. A
puppy could be good in the sanctuary, right?
Forrest rubs my shoulders softly. “Why don’t we go take a little
dip in the river?”
I’ve just bathed, but we all know these boys aren’t just in the
mood for a nude swim. Their dicks have been hard most of the day,
and their little touches have more than warmed my engine up. Plus,
it means we aren’t getting rid of Platty. Not yet.
So, I stand from my spot beside the little inlet our pet likes to
swim in. “Let’s go up a little more to where the water is extra warm.”
My men follow me, and I’m more than a little pleased when I can
feel their eyes glued to my ass. This mom’s still got it!
When we reach the right spot, concealed fairly well with thick
foliage around it, I seat myself down on a rock.
Bryon raises a brow. “Shouldn’t you be getting naked?”
I grin. “I’d rather... watch you guys get naked.”
Bryon shakes his head, but I know he’s smiling underneath that
tough exterior. “What exactly are you expecting here?”
“A little bit of this!” Forrest shouts.
He climbs on top of another rock and begins to shake his ass like
a male stripper. He slowly removes his shirt, inch by inch revealing
his six pack, and then tosses his shirt at me. I’m laughing, even
while my gaze is glued to his hands as they slide to his belt.
“Oh yeah! You want some of this!” he says, then spins around
and sticks his ass out, smacking it.
I’m laughing harder. I don’t know if I’m turned on or just falling
more in love with this man, but I’m liking it, either way.
He yanks off his belt and spins around. Putting it between his
legs, he pretends to ride it like a horse. “Oh yes, you like this, don’t
you?”
“You’re an idiot!” Bryon says, shaking his head, but Forrest isn’t
the least bit discouraged.
Marcus just stares. “I’m not doing that.”
Forrest takes off his pants, throws that at me too. Then, in one
movement, he yanks off his boxers. I'm not smiling when his
massive erection appears. Damn, this boy might be a joker, but he
has such a nice package...
“How about a little bit of this?” he asks, then starts rotating his
hips so that his dick is moving around in circles.
“Come here,” I say.
He leaps down from the rock and comes to stand in front of me.
Without hesitating, I lean forward and take him into my mouth.
“Fuck,” he groans, all amusement draining from his face.
“That worked for her?” Bryon asks, sounding incredulous.
I don’t answer him, because my mouth is full of cock. But I reach
forward and cup Forrest's balls, taking him deeper and deeper.
Forrest’s hand digs into the back of my hair, and he starts to fuck my
mouth slowly and deliciously.
My entire body is heating up. There’s just something sexy about
a man working so hard to turn a woman on. There’s something I
love about how much he goes out of his way to make me smile.
“Hold on,” Marcus says, from somewhere behind Forrest. “We
didn’t get our turn to, uh, strip for you.”
I let Forrest’s dick slip out of my mouth, then lean forward and
lick the tip, just to watch those brilliant green eyes of his turn darker.
He very reluctantly moves to my side, but his hand is on his dick
and he’s stroking himself, eyes closed.
Fuck, that’s hot.
Turning to my other men, I wait.
“We’re really going to do this?” Bryon asks, grumpily.
Marcus doesn’t answer. He starts to remove his clothes, starting
with his shirt. Even though he’s not dancing or trying to make it hot,
I don’t mind seeing his chiseled body one bit. When his shirt’s
unbuttoned, he folds it and places it on the rock behind him. I have
to hide my grin behind my hand. He’s so careful about not wrinkling
anything, and I think it's just adorable.
Next he removes his socks and shoes and sets them beside the
rock, then takes off his pants and boxers. When he’s done, he looks
between my mouth and his dick.
“Want something, sailor?” I ask.
He raises a brow. “You know I do.”
I wave him over, reach out, and start stroking his thick erection.
His eyes close, and his head tilts back. He'd better believe I’ll be
sucking him soon, but not yet, not when I have a show to watch.
Bryon looks at Harold. My blond gargoyle is blushing like mad,
but he starts to take off his clothes in a hurry, like he’s trying to get
it over with. Again, I try not to laugh.
At last, Bryon throws his hands up in the air. “Fine, if it leads to
sex!”
I can’t help but laugh, and he glares at me as he rips his clothes
off one piece at a time.
My gaze goes to his cock, because, well, these four have made
me a bit dick-obsessed.
Much to my happiness, he’s hard.
“Were you enjoying Forrest’s dance?” I ask, trying to sound
serious.
His glare deepens. He walks over to me and says, “No, I was
excited about this!”
I open my mouth to argue right back, and his shaft slides inside.
Oh fuck, I love when he gets all demanding and possessive like
this. I love it when he uses me like I’m made for his pleasure and his
pleasure alone.
Harold walks up beside him, and I watch him, curiously out of
the corner of my eye. He kneels down in front of me, a massive
blond god of a man. He tugs off my pants, tears off my underwear,
and suddenly his mouth is between my legs.
I groan and Bryon tilts me back further, holding my head securely
as he forces himself deeper in and out of my mouth. Marcus closes
his hand around mine and reminds me to keep stroking, then his
hand moves to my breast, stroking my nipples, rolling them between
his thumb and finger.
My system is overloading. Harold is sucking and pressing
between my folds like a man on a mission, and the way Bryon has
taken control of me makes me feel like a creature made for sex. Not
a mother. Not a woman with a list of things to do and no time to get
them done. I’m just—me. A woman. Desired by my men.
When Bryon starts to speed up inside my mouth, I suck harder,
knowing he’s close. His grip on my hair tightens. I gag slightly as his
big shaft fills me entirely, and then, he comes, hard, shouting my
name.
It takes several long seconds before his grip loosens ever so
slightly. He takes his shaft and draws it slowly out of my mouth,
then, holding my gaze, he pumps it in and out a few more times,
letting me suck every inch of it.
Forrest appears at my side. He turns my head, and then his dick
takes the place of Bryon’s. His grip is slightly looser, his movements
less frantic and more deliberate. And I love it! There’s nothing better
than my sexy men taking turns with me... other than maybe when
they all take me at once.
Fuck. I think I just want them touching me, one way or another.
At that moment, Harold pulls his mouth from between my legs.
What? No!
I let Forrest’s dick pop out of my mouth and look down, trying
not to whimper. But Harold has other plans. He picks me up and
Marcus seats himself on the rock. Harold sets me onto the other
man’s lap. Then, holding my gaze, Harold grabs Marcus’ shaft and
steers it into my ass.
Which is hot as hell.
I’m so wet, but Marcus is a big man. A big man who loves my ass
more than anything in this world and knows just how to fill up every
inch of me. Breathing hard, I’m overwhelmed by the sheer size of
him as he sinks inch by inch deeper. It’s the most exquisite feeling,
like I’m perfectly hugging that line between pleasure and pain.
When he’s all the way inside, there’s one second when everyone
is just staring and panting, before Harold stands up and places
himself at my other entrance. Marcus pulls my legs further apart and
leans back further, making more room for the man in front of me.
Harold’s big cock sinks deeper inside of me, and my nails dig harder
into his shoulders as every bit of air leaves my chest.
As he reaches his hilt, I let loose a string of curses.
“That’s one dirty mouth,” Forrest says, his voice thick with desire.
I look at where he’s standing at my side. His gaze is glued to my
mouth, and he still has one hand gripping his shaft. His free hand
slides into my hair, and he leans me back further and further on top
of Marcus, who wordlessly complies, then dangles himself over my
mouth. One of my hands goes up to hold his shaft, and I lower him
so that I can suck his balls.
“Oh fuck, Medusa,” he groans.
Encouraged, I suck harder, and then forget every damn thing as
the two men inside of me start thrusting.
I swear I can’t think or function. I’m just a million nerves
screaming in pleasure. When Forrest tilts his dick down and starts to
thrust into my mouth like a wild animal, I can only groan around him
and let it happen. When Harold starts to suck my nipples and thrust
more rapidly into my pussy, I just wrap my arms around his head
and hold him closely to my breasts. When I can feel Marcus’s dick
swelling in my ass, I’m craving the feeling of him exploding inside of
me.
And then it does... and damn does it feel good.
My orgasm builds like something untamable, my inner-muscles
swelling around Harold’s dick. I’m like a light, burning brighter and
brighter, waiting to shatter. I’m not afraid... I’m reaching it for it like
a person desperate for that brilliant release.
And at last, I do...
I break into a million pieces, riding the men inside of me as the
ripples of pleasure sweep over me. When Forrest explodes into my
mouth, and Harold fills my pussy, I swear I’m experiencing complete
and utter bliss. The kind that makes me feel like every bone in my
body has turned to mush and my head is finally, finally quiet.
After several long moments, Forrest pulls out of my mouth and
collapses beside me. Harold strokes my face, kisses my cheek, and
holds me close.
This moment... I wish it could last forever.
And then shadows pass over us. All our gazes go to the sky at
once, to the handful of gargoyles flying so rapidly to the town. My
men pull out of me and hurry to their clothes.
“What’s going on?” I ask, hating how quickly our perfect moment
slipped away.
Marcus looks troubled. “Probably nothing, but a Brotherhood has
just returned from monster-hunting.”
My good mood dims just a bit. I wonder if this monster was one
of the lucky ones to survive. Silently, I give a prayer that my
monster-sisters, the women I’ve gotten to know in one way or other
over my two thousand years, are all safe.
Harold kisses my cheek. “We’ll be back soon.”
“Do you need us to help you release the platypus?” Forrest asks,
already shifting into his gargoyle form.
I shake my head.
“We’ll be back soon,” Forrest promises.
All my men have turned the stunning color of wet-stone, and
their massive wings stretch behind their bodies. They flap their
wings and in seconds shoot into the sky.
For a minute I just watch them, and then I sigh and go to find
my clothes. My gargoyles have got to be the most attentive partners
and fathers I’ve ever seen, so I can’t be too upset when they have
to attend to business, even if I miss them when they are gone.
But as I pick up my clothes, I freeze. Something’s wrong. I’m
being watched.
Casually, I let my gaze slide around me, even as my hands curl
into fists. If someone thinks this is the first time I’ve been attacked,
or that I’ll go down without a fight, they’re wrong.
Where are you, you bastard?
Then I see the platypus hiding behind the grass, watching me...
too closely. Weird.
How long has he been there? And why does his gaze cause
goose bumps to erupt along my skin? He’s just an animal, right? But
then, I’ve never seen an animal watch a person like that before.
He doesn’t blink. He just stares and stares. And for the first time,
I think my gargoyles were right. There’s something off about this
animal.
I dress quickly, trying to keep my eye on him as I do so.
When at last I’m done, I speak, even though I feel silly. “You’re
not actually a platypus, are you?”
A blue glow surrounds him, and the creature shifts, growing
bigger and more humanoid with each passing second. At last, a blue
man with fins on his head regards me.
Oh fuck, what the hell is this?
“Lady Medusa,” he greets, bowing his head.
I stand up taller. This creature must be powerful, or else my
powers would have instantly turned him into stone. But if he tries
anything, he’ll learn very quickly that I’m dangerous, with or without
my stone-glare.
“What are you doing here? And why the fuck did you pretend to
be that animal?”
A slow smile spreads his lips. “A certain sea queen has heard a
rumor that the gargoyles are collecting female monsters. She
wanted to see if it was true, and more so, what happens to the
women who are taken.”
I stare. I know the sea queen, and I’m never sure about her
motives. “It seems to me you learned the truth pretty quickly but
continued to hang around...”
That smile of his stretches even further. “I was injured during my
travels, so at first I stayed simply until I healed. Yet it became
increasingly more difficult to leave. You’re a very beautiful woman
naked. And watching your gargoyles fuck you like that... I’ll never
forget the sight. In fact, it’ll warm my cock for many years to come.”
My hands curl tighter. “Have you ever had a woman beat the shit
out of you?”
He raised a brow, the scales on his flesh shimmering with the
movement. “More times than I can count.”
Then, he reaches down, and I can see his cock peeking between
the grass. He wraps his hand around his swollen length.
“Don’t even think about it,” I say.
He frowns. “Surely you’d enjoy seeing me pleasure myself to the
sight of you?”
I take a step forward. “I’m a taken woman, shifter. And I swear
to all that’s powerful in this world that if you’re here when my
gargoyles get back, they’ll rip you limb-to-limb.”
He sighs, too loudly. “I guess you’re right. My mission has been
accomplished, and so, I must go.” But his gaze slides over me very
slowly yet again, and his cock jerks. “As much as I’ll miss you.”
“Pervert,” I mutter, glaring at him.
He laughs. “You’re just lucky that my queen would kill me for
failing this mission, or when you pressed me between those sweet
breasts of yours, I would’ve shifted and made us both very happy.”
I stomp up to him and kick him as hard as I can in the crotch.
His eyes widen, he grabs himself, and falls over in the water
groaning.
“Next time, think twice before you take advantage of my fucking
sweet disposition.”
After he stops looking like he’s going to cry, he pulls his knees up
to his chest in the water. “Lesson learned.” And I’m glad that his
voice comes out high and frightened.
I take a step closer to him.
His eyes widen. In an instant, he shifts into a platypus once
more. The creature looks at me with longing and then he dives into
the river. I follow along the shore until I’m sure he’s left the
sanctuary. Then, and only then, do I breathe easy. Yes, I’m hot. And
yes, I’d enjoy watching gargoyles as sexy as mine fucking anyone.
But that creepy little shifter is going to have a beating of a lifetime if
I ever see him again.
Walking back to our treehouse, I briefly wonder if I should tell
my gargoyles the truth. Could the creature have learned anything
from watching us that could be dangerous? And what will the sea
queen do with her spy’s information? And then, I think about how
much my men will gloat if they discover they were right about the
little beast being dangerous.
“I’ll never hear the end of it,” I mutter to myself.
So maybe I’ll tell them, and maybe I won’t. Because everyone
knows that gargoyles are annoying as hell about this kind of stuff.
Being immortal, I’ll truly be hearing about this for thousands of
years to come.
Damn that little platypus and his horn-dog ways.
Up ahead, I hear my daughters’ laughter and my thoughts fade
away. Walking faster, I smile. Four hot men and two wonderful
children? I couldn’t ask for anything more.
So it’s probably okay to keep one little secret.
The End.
Have you read Medusa’s Destiny yet, the tale of how
Medusa meets her gargoyles? If not, pick it up! And if you
already have, check out Keto’s Tale. This series is full of sexy
gargoyles and head-strong women, so I think you’ll enjoy it!
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
all say it; they say it every day, and it is the sole detail
upon which they all agree. There is some approach to agreement
upon another point: that there will be no revolution. … Nearly
every day some one explains to me that a revolution would not
succeed here. 'It couldn't, you know. Broadly speaking, all
the nations in the empire hate the government—but they all
hate each other too, and with devoted and enthusiastic
bitterness; no two of them can combine; the nation that rises
must rise alone; then the others would joyfully join the
government against her, and she would have just a fly's chance
against a combination of spiders. This government is entirely
independent. It can go its own road, and do as it pleases; it
has nothing to fear. In countries like England and America,
where there is one tongue and the public interests are common,
the government must take account of public opinion; but in
Austria-Hungary there are nineteen public opinions—one for
each state. No—two or three for each state, since there are
two or three nationalities in each. A government cannot
satisfy all these public opinions; it can only go through the
motions of trying. This government does that. It goes through
the motions, and they do not succeed; but that does not worry
the government much.' …
"The Opposition began its fight. Its arms were the Rules of
the House. It was soon manifest that by applying these Rules
ingeniously, it could make the majority helpless, and keep it
so as long as it pleased. It could shut off business every now
and then with a motion to adjourn. It could require the ayes
and noes on the motion, and use up thirty minutes on that
detail. It could call for the reading and verification of the
minutes of the preceding meeting, and use up half a day in
that way.
{40}
It could require that several of its members be entered upon
the list of permitted speakers previously to the opening of a
sitting; and as there is no time limit, further delays could
thus be accomplished. These were all lawful weapons, and the
men of the Opposition (technically called the Left) were
within their rights in using them. They used them to such dire
purpose that all parliamentary business was paralyzed. The
Right (the government side) could accomplish nothing. Then it
had a saving idea. This idea was a curious one. It was to have
the President and the Vice-Presidents of the parliament
trample the Rules under foot upon occasion! …
"And now took place that memorable sitting of the House which
broke two records. It lasted the best part of two days and a
night, surpassing by half an hour the longest sitting known to
the world's previous parliamentary history, and breaking the
long-speech record with Dr. Lecher's twelve-hour effort, the
longest flow of unbroken talk that ever came out of one mouth
since the world began. At 8.45, on the evening of the 28th of
October, when the House had been sitting a few minutes short
of ten hours, Dr. Lecher was granted the floor. … Then burst
out such another wild and frantic and deafening clamor as has
not been heard on this planet since the last time the
Comanches surprised a white settlement at midnight. Yells from
the Left, counter-yells from the Right, explosions of yells
from all sides at once, and all the air sawed and pawed and
clawed and cloven by a writhing confusion of gesturing arms
and hands. Out of the midst of this thunder and turmoil and
tempest rose Dr. Lecher, serene and collected, and the
providential length of him enabled his head to show out above
it. He began his twelve-hour speech. At any rate, his lips
could be seen to move, and that was evidence. On high sat the
President imploring order, with his long hands put together as
in prayer, and his lips visibly but not hearably speaking. At
intervals he grasped his bell and swung it up and down with
vigor, adding its keen clamor to the storm weltering there
below. Dr. Lecher went on with his pantomime speech,
contented, untroubled. … One of the interrupters who made
himself heard was a young fellow of slight build and neat
dress, who stood a little apart from the solid crowd and
leaned negligently, with folded arms and feet crossed, against
a desk. Trim and handsome; strong face and thin features;
black hair roughed up; parsimonious mustache; resonant great
voice, of good tone and pitch. It is Wolf, capable and
hospitable with sword and pistol. … Out of him came early this
thundering peal, audible above the storm:
"I will explain that Dr. Lecher was not making a twelve-hour
speech for pastime, but for an important purpose. It was the
government's intention to push the 'Ausgleich' through its
preliminary stages in this one sitting (for which it was the
Order of the Day), and then by vote refer it to a select
committee. It was the Majority's scheme—as charged by the
Opposition—to drown debate upon the bill by pure noise—drown
it out and stop it. The debate being thus ended, the vote upon
the reference would follow—with victory for the government.
But into the government's calculations had not entered the
possibility of a single-barrelled speech which should occupy
the entire time-limit of the sitting, and also get itself
delivered in spite of all the noise. … In the English House an
obstructionist has held the floor with Bible-readings and
other outside matters; but Dr. Lecher could not have that
restful and recuperative privilege—he must confine himself
strictly to the subject before the House. More than once, when
the President could not hear him because of the general
tumult, he sent persons to listen and report as to whether the
orator was speaking to the subject or not.
{41}
"Certainly the thing looked well. … [But next day, when the
President attempted to open the session, a band of the
Socialist members made a sudden charge upon him, drove him and
the Vice President from the House, took possession of the
tribune, and brought even the semblance of legislative
proceedings to an end. Then a body of sixty policemen was
brought in to clear the House.] Some of the results of this
wild freak followed instantly. The Badeni government came down
with a crash; there was a popular outbreak or two in Vienna;
there were three or four days of furious rioting in Prague,
followed by the establishing there of martial law; the Jews
and Germans were harried and plundered, and their houses
destroyed; in other Bohemian towns there was rioting—in some
cases the Germans being the rioters, in others the Czechs—and
in all cases the Jew had to roast, no matter which side he was
on. We are well along in December now; the new
Minister-President has not been able to patch up a peace among
the warring factions of the parliament, therefore there is no
use in calling it together again for the present; public
opinion believes that parliamentary government and the
Constitution are actually threatened with extinction, and that
the permanency of the monarchy itself is a not absolutely
certain thing!
"Yes, the Lex Falkenhayn was a great invention, and did what
was claimed for it—it got the government out of the
frying-pan."
On the last day of the year the Emperor closed the sittings of
the Austrian Reichsrath by proclamation and issued a rescript
continuing the "Ausgleich" provisionally for six months.
AUSTRIA-HUNGARY: A. D. 1898.
Prolongation of factious disorders.
Paralysis of constitutional government.
AUSTRIA-HUNGARY: A. D. 1899-1900.
Continued obstruction by the German parties in Austria.
Extensive secession of German Catholics from their
Church, and its significance.
Withdrawal of the Bohemian language decrees.
Obstruction taken up by the Czechs.
Quarterly Review,
January, 1899.
AUSTRIA-HUNGARY: A. D. 1900.
Military and naval expenditure.
Spectator (London),
February 10, 1900.
{44}
{45}