Page 42 of Shadows and Stone

Teagan

Outside our suite window, the campus grounds are silent. Halloween night at Creepin U usually means loud, chaotic dorm parties, and the thumping bass of frat houses echoing across the quad, but in our suite, the world narrows down to just the two of us.

Just my gargoyle and me.

Ryker is lying on his back, his massive chest rising and falling in deep, steady breaths. One of his large wings is fully unfurled across the bed, tucking me securely against his side. My head rests against his shoulder, right where the smooth purple skin gives way to the sturdy curve of his collarbone. I trace a thumb lazily back and forth over his chest, feeling his solid, stone-like muscles under my touch.

"You okay?”

It's probably the tenth time he asked. I tilt my head up, looking at him. His blue eyes are fixed on me. There’s so much tenderness and devotion there, it takes my breath away. His long, black hair is loose, spilling across the pillow in dark waves, and his horns catch the warm orange glow of the Halloween fairy lights Zay strung up near my ceiling.

"I'm just really happy," I murmur, sliding my arm further around his thick waist. "The fact that all I need to focus on is school and the show is a relief. No more stalker. No more creepy notes or wondering who he might be."

Ryker’s tail curls tightly around my calf under the covers, tugging me closer. "He’s in custody, Teagan. Dean Yaga and the local authorities took care of it. He’s not getting anywhere near you ever again. I made sure of that."

A soft laugh escapes my lips. "Oh, I know. Trust me, I saw the look on his face when you pinned him against that floor in the corridor. I’m pretty sure the guy nearly pissed himself before security even reached the hallway."

Ryker’s lips twitch, a faint, cocky little smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. It’s the same playful smile I fell for back when he was trying so hard to play the stoic bodyguard. "A gargoyle has a reputation to uphold," he jokes. "Besides, nobody touches what's mine."

My toes curl. "Yours, huh?" I tease. "Is that the gargoyle talking, or the possessive bodyguard?"

"Both." Ryker grins.

My heart flutters against my ribs. I lean up and press a soft kiss to his jaw. He turns his head to capture my lips with his own, deepening the kiss until I'm breathless, melting against his broad frame. His clawed hands shift gently, holding me with a delicate precision that constantly amazes me.

When we finally break apart, the both of us are panting. Ryker lets out a contented sigh and settles back into the pillows. "So. Halloween movies?"

"Yes," I say, reaching over to pull my laptop closer onto the mattress. "We’re doing proper, low-key college Halloween stuff today. Movie marathons, ridiculous amounts of leftover candy, and zero stress."

For the next few hours, the world outside simply ceases to exist. We order an absurdly large pizza—half pepperoni, half Korean BBQ beef—which Ethan helps drop off at our bedroom door after giving us a supportive, slightly awkward, thumbs-up. Zay pops his head in briefly to drop off a bowl of candy, giggling when he sees Ryker entirely wrapped up in his own wings like a giant purple burrito with his head sticking out, before darting back into the hallway to let us be.

We binge classic spooky comedies, laughing at the terrible eighties special effects while Ryker occasionally points out technical flaws in the characters' costumes with ridiculous, professional commentary.

"Look at that cape! Are you kidding me," Ryker grunts playfully, pointing a dark purple claw at the screen as a cheesy vampire swoops across the frame. "Whoever tailored that crap should be fired from the movie industry."

I laugh so hard I almost spill my soda. "Ryker, it’s a B-Flick from forty years ago. I don't think they were prioritizing the vampire’s wardrobe."

"It's about pride in the craft, Teagan," he replies. His eyes are dancing with light. "If you're going to wear a cape and call yourself a monster, it should at least hang properly from the shoulders, not make the humans laugh."

I shake my head, smiling softly as I watch him. Watching him relax like this—watching the tension leave his shoulders, hearing him talk about garments and stitching with that effortless, instinctive passion—makes my chest ache with love.

Just as the movie credits start to roll, three sharp, urgent knocks echo against our bedroom door.

Ryker’s wing instinctively tightens around me, his posture stiffening as his bodyguard reflexes flare back to life. "Stay here," he says softly.

"Ryker, the stalker's locked up," I remind him gently, sitting up as he swings his long legs over the side of the bed and walks over to open the door.

Zay is standing in the doorway, holding a thick, priority courier envelope. "Hey guys—sorry to interrupt. A courier just came to the Karloff Hall lobby. He said it was rushed courier service, tagged urgent, and needed to be delivered directly to our suite."

My breath hitches. I look up at Ryker. His eyes immediately snap to mine.

"The detective has more info?" Ryker asks quietly.

"Thanks, Zay," I say, jumping out of bed and taking the package. Zay gives us a curious, warm smile before pulling the door shut behind him, leaving us alone again.

My fingers tremble slightly as I tear open the top pull-tab of the envelope. "He said he was sending the finalized dossier once the regional records verified a few things." I pull out a thick, navy-blue folder filled with crisp paper, printed photographs, and official records.

Ryker steps closer, his massive form towering beside me, his tail whipping with nervous energy. "Teagan... what did he find?"