Page 42 of Gardening and Gargoyles

“You have to read him his rights. Tell him he has the right to remain silent, and you—” I never get to finish.

Duncan marches to the car, yanks Daniel off of it, and holds him an inch from his snarling face. “You are under arrest. You have no right to trespass on Ian Fenclan’s land, steal another’s belongings, and you most certainly do not have the right to harm the woman I love.” Duncan lifts Daniel’s lolling head with a talon and presses it into his throat. “You have the right for me to silence you—and I willgladlyarrange it,” Duncan growls.

Daniel lets out a whimper and lapses back into unconsciousness.

“You know, I think that works. Toss him in the back,” I say with a smile. “I’ll take him to the station.

Chapter Eleven: Heartstone

It takes me two nights to carve it, sitting on the couch beside my June, who has a mild concussion and three fractured ribs.

We watch news and documentaries, and silly “movies,” which are plays on film.

We get to see Daniel’s arrest make the local news, and Isa, one of my cousins in Scotland, sends videos to June’s phone. We get to see Castle Mackintosh declared an officially protected historical site. There are fancy terms and papers that must be completed, but she says the clan has a hallowed home to go to now—if they wish.

“What do you wish?” June asks sleepily.

I stroke back her hair and wince at the bruises I can see.

She fought for me.

“I wish to be as loyal, true, and worthy a lover as you deserve. I wish to be by your side—and that is all I wish. June. My lady. I have—” I hesitate, and then rise.

June instantly struggles up, my warrior queen. I don’t let her lift a finger, but instead carry her with me to the garden, just as the sky starts to glow a soft pink.

Part of our beautiful garden is scarred by Daniel’s tire tracks and gouges in the earth, littered with the wilting remains of plants he destroyed.

But then again, I’m scarred, too, and my wing always will be.

And June? Her scars are on her heart. On her trust. But they keep mending. Keep growing.

“Read this,” I whisper, and place my heartstone in her hands as I carry her to the center of the garden.

June starts, stops, and then reads in a tremulous whisper, her hands clasped tight—one on my wrist, and one on the stone.

“May this sacred stone be a symbol of our love, with roots that grow ever deeper, and branches that never wither, never fade.

I give my heart to you, and ask for yours. I ask for the right to fight for you, loyal and steadfast, and to forever find my peace and joy in you. I ask for your love, and give you all of mine in return.

I ask for your life, to spend it with you, and for your sorrows and delights, to share them with you.

I ask you to be my rose e’er blooming, my lady, and my one and only love, and in return, I wish to be the arbor that shelters you, and the stone that you cling to, a haven for a true heart, forever and always.”

“Duncan,” June murmurs, pressing the stone to her chest. “I don’t have anything so wonderful to give to you, I don’t... I’m not good with words. I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s simple, my lady. You say yes.”

“But you deserve more, you deserve a beautiful speech, too!”

“But when you tell me yes, that speech becomes yours. Becomes ours. Because we will be one from that second on, my June.”

“Oh.” June nods slowly.

For a second, I worry that she is hesitant about such a bond, something so strong that humans rarely experience.

But I needn’t have worried. I know my June better than that. “Yes, Duncan. A thousand times, a thousand ways, yes.”

My last sight for the night is my mate kissing me as the sun rises behind her, my heartstone in her hand, surrounded by the beautiful garden we’re making together.

The start of a beautiful life together, I think, hearing her whisper as sleep settles over me, “Sweet dreams, my love. My one and only love.”