Monster March: Amadou the Gargoyle

Female Reader x Male Monster

Many years ago, the building you  work in was renovated by an eccentric man who liked to collect  supposedly ‘cursed’ items. He had the building’s exterior made up to  mimic old cathedrals, so there was lots of stonework involved. The  building was a stark, dark grey thumb sticking out among the rows of  glass and brick on either side. Part of his collection was also mounted  on the building facade - a wide array of gargoyles and grotesques.

The  building has remained largely untenanted for a long time because of its  exterior. Not many people want to run a business out of a supposedly  cursed place. Eventually, the owner started filling it with his own  businesses - a laundromat in the basement, a cafe on the ground floor, a  fashion design studio, a non-profit charity organization, an app  development house, a makeup company, and finally a newspaper, which is  where you work.

Since the paper is fairly new, it initially had to  experiment. For a while, it only did feel-good stories for a world  oversaturated with bad news. Then for a time, it focused on debunking  popular myths. Now, the paper is leaning towards investigative work.

Recently,  you’ve been between writing assignments. The previous week you traced  stolen artwork from the local museum to the home of a billionaire  businessman in the area. He claimed he was unaware the artwork was  stolen and, as he put it, ‘donated’ the stolen artwork back to the  museum. It bothered you that’s all you got out of the work you put into  it, not to mention your editor told you to stop digging once you figured  out where the paintings had originated from.

You’re going  through old unsolved cases now, after having written another puff piece  between your preferred projects. You glance up from your laptop, lean  back and glance out the window. There you see your favorite coworker.

You  open the window where there is a small terrace of black iron. Hanging  off the corner of the building is one of the bigger gargoyles of the  whole collection. You like to call him your coworker, since he’s always  by your desk and always there to listen.

“Good afternoon, Amadou,” you sigh.

Amadou  is a beastly-looking figure with his shoulders hunched forward, arms  straining as he holds onto the ledge so his muscles pop with sinew. His  mouth gapes open wide to admit the gutter that drains water from his  throat. His wings flare out, hugging the wall of the building. His huge  hands and long fingers coil around the small ledge he is perched on,  while his feet press back against the wall.

You remove a coffee  cup from the ledge and dump out all the rainwater within. “Need a refill  there?” You place your untouched mug of cold coffee next to him, then  sigh as you stare out into the distance.

“What do you think,  Amadou?” you murmur. “Should I continue on that piece about these  supposed hero sightings, or should I do another round of interviews at  Hephaestus Academy? That new kid Spite is getting attention again. Maybe  him?” You look up at Amadou and his strained, horrified expression.

“Yeah,  you’re right,” you sigh. “I think stories about the academy are played  out too. And I’m exhausted with hero puff pieces.” You take in a long  deep breath as close your eyes. “What’s that?” You turn back to the  stone figure. “You think I should continue looking into those paintings?  No? You mean Solomon Savage?”

Amadou glares beyond you, not  moving, not speaking. Part of you wishes he would respond at least once,  so you wouldn’t feel so crazy. Or maybe you just don’t want to feel  alone.

“But my editor told me not to.” You look thoughtfully back  to your desk and drum your fingers on the windowsill. “But he doesn’t  have to know about it. It’s always bothered me since I figured out where  those pieces in his collection came from. How could he not know?” You  look back at Amadou. “You think there is something more there?”

Amadou doesn’t reply.

“Thanks for the pep talk. That’s exactly what I needed.” You slip back inside and go to your desk.

Solomon  Savage was an extremely well known figure. He had his own news program  for a while before he retired. Now he chairs several projects around the  world. He funded quite a few research facilities, as well as a security  company. He has an extensive art collection, which is what drew your  attention.

Ages ago your father, also a journalist, covered the  sudden disappearance of some artwork from a local museum. You watched  him work on this project, so you were already familiar with the  paintings. Once you saw a glimpse of Solomon Savage’s art collection  during an interview, that’s when you jumped at the chance to finish your  father’s work.

You weren’t allowed to go beyond covering his  donation of the paintings back to the museum, but it always bothered you  that an avid collector like Solomon Savage didn’t know the origins of  these paintings. You already have a backlog of old articles you could  submit for publishing, which might allow you to continue to investigate  this story.

On your way home that evening, you stop by your  favorite thrift store. It’s one of your destressing rituals to go in and  look around. You usually don’t get much, but it’s nice to see what’s  new and catch up with the owner. That evening you find an old newsboy  hat, and for some reason, it makes you think of Amadou. You also think  it would be sort of a cute joke, considering he’s your ‘coworker’ at the  newspaper.

The next morning, you come into work and take the  newsboy cap from your bag, feeling silly for how excited you are to  dress the statue.

“Amadou, I have a gift.” You slip out onto the  terrace and place the cap on his head. “Oh, yes, very handsome!” you  remark with a smile. You take the coffee cup left on the ledge, fully  expecting the old, cold coffee to be filled with bugs and debris.  Instead, there’s nothing in it except a couple of coffee stain rings.

You  look at Amadou, then back at the mug. “Did you… no!” You scoff, go back  inside and set the empty mug on your desk. Someone must be playing a  joke on you. You have big plans for that afternoon, so you set to work  right away. You want to interview Solomon Savage again. It’s probably a  pipe dream now - after all, he’s become secluded after he said he wanted  to focus on his family.

You make a call to the same place you  did when you were researching the artwork. A woman answers. “You’ve  reached Savage Industries, how may I help you?”

“I’m hoping to  meet with Mr. Savage again,” you say. “I mean, I have before. I’m the  reporter who covered the artwork in his collection that turned out to be  stolen.”

“I remember you.” Mr. Savage’s sharp, steely voice comes over the phone.

“Mr. Savage.” You try to remain bright, but you feel chilled to your core. “It’s good to speak with you again!”

“Are you still on these artworks?” he chuckles.

“I  just wanted to do a follow-up.” Your throat grows thick as your nerves  start to rise. “See what you’ve done with your current collection. Has  anything happened since the paintings were identified.”

“Slow news day, I take it?”

“A  lot of people are curious, Mr. Savage.” You anxiously tap your pen on  the desk. “And I would be remiss if I didn’t follow up on our last  interview. It felt quite open-ended to me.”

“Because of you I had  to give away some of my prized pieces. I understand it was the right  thing to do, but also understand that I am quite aggravated.” Then he  starts to laugh. “I joke, of course. Journalists like you are a dying  breed. In fact, the whole news field is dying out.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” You glance back at Amadou. For some reason he makes you feel better.

Solomon  sighs. “There’s nothing much to talk about, I’m afraid. I’ve yet to  replace the paintings, and I’ve been busy with my family all this time.  I’ve already told you everything I knew about those paintings. I’m  afraid I have nothing else to give you.”

“It doesn’t have to be  about artwork this time, Mr. Savage.” You know this might be stupid, but  you’re willing to throw yourself into anything at this point. “Perhaps  we could discuss something you’d be more interested in.”

He’s  quiet for a long pause. “I don’t think so. I have nothing to talk about  that the world doesn’t already know. So for now, and hopefully a long  while, I don’t have to hear back from you. Have a good day.” The call  ends.

You glance at your computer screen and get an uneasy  feeling in the pit of your stomach. You get up and go, heading towards  the museum. The museum director is happy to talk with you about the  night the paintings were stolen - at the time, he had been a simple  curator at the museum.

It gets late, but you continue your  interview. You ask hard questions, making the director think hard about  the events that transpired. You take him down the hallways he speaks  about from memory. You both run as if chasing the culprits.

Eventually  the director has to go to the bathroom, so you sit before the  paintings. You study them, thinking about the routes the director told  you about. As you’re sitting there, the lights suddenly flicker off.

“Hello?”  you call out. “I’m still here!” You stand in the shadows. The only  light comes from the dim security lights at each corner. You follow the  red glow of the exit sign when you see something move in front of you.  It darts across your vision, and you jump back.

“Hello?” you call out again. “Someone is still in here!”

Something  moves behind you, and you scream. You drop your phone, which you had  been using to record the interview, and sprint down the hall, following  the glow of the security lights which flash as you run past them. You  hear something behind you, breathing and hissing. It ricochets against  the walls, bouncing off them as it follows behind you.

Something’s  wrong. None of the alarms are going off. Whatever is following behind  you should be setting them off, but there’s nothing! You dash into the  main showroom, where a collection of antique jewelry and gowns is on  display. In the shadows all the mannequins look like people standing in  wait. You turn around. You can’t see what’s chasing you, but in your gut  you know it’s still there watching you.

You try to steady your  breathing. Reaching into your pocket, you rub the can of mace on your  keychain between your fingers. You hear something guttural in the  shadows and you pull the mace out, holding it before you.

The  sound becomes a laugh, sinister and malicious. You look around, shaking,  when one of the mannequins moves. It runs and lunges at you, and you  spray it with the mace before it tackles you to the ground. It hisses  and spits in your face, and the mace burns you, but you keep spraying it  at your attacker.

Suddenly, the mannequin is knocked away.  There’s someone else here now. Two of them. You get up from the ground,  every orifice in your face burning from the residue of the mace. You get  up and try to run away, but you trip and fall, crashing into one of the  displays.

Something grabs your ankle and you scream, hearing  shouting and fighting behind you. Your ankle is released, and you jump  up to run again.

“I’ve got you. It’s safe,” a deep voice says as  you’re lifted from the ground. A window shatters, and you’re flown out  into the night. You hear the flapping of wings, and you cling to  whoever, or whatever, is holding you.

You’re set down upon a roof  and you scramble away from whoever is holding you. You can barely make  out its shape as your eyes still burn from the mace.

“It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you,” the voice soothes. You notice it has a slight French accent.

“What’s going on?” you stammer. “Who are you?”

“That’s going to be hard to explain.”

You  want to rub your eyes, but you know that will make things worse. You  ball your fists up tight, trying to focus on the pain of your nails  digging into your palms rather than the pain in your eyes and throat.  “I’m so sure!”

“You were attacked by Rabid,” the voice says gently.

You spit, hoping to get some of the mace out. “Rabid? The villain? What the hell would he want to attack me for?”

“Calm down and I can explain.”

Your  vision is slowly returning. You can see the creature standing before  you as more than an amorphous blob. It’s dark grey in color and looks  monstrous in size. You see long legs, a narrow waist, and huge  shoulders. Is it wearing a cape? Or is that wings? It’s standing in  shadow, but the glow of streetlights is between you.

You close one eye and squint the other one. “Step into the light.”

The  creature moves into the glow, and finally you can take him in. His  large hands, his powerful shoulders, the great big wings on his back,  the newsboy cap on his head.

You try to open your eyes wider, but that only hurts them more. You wince in pain.

“Easy now, easy.” The gargoyle approaches you and places his hand on your arm. “Let me help.”

“I  must be seeing things! This mace is doing more damage than I thought.  It can’t be.” You take hold of his wrist, turning his monstrous hand  over to see all sides of it. The long fingers, the sharp nails, the  extra nub at the wrist. It’s just like his.

“When you didn’t come back, I got worried.”

You  glance up. His face is blurry, but when you touch his head you can feel  the horns, the elongated ears, the small, squished nose.

“Amadou?” you whisper in awe.

“It’s me,” he says reassuringly. “I’m here to protect you.”

“Holy  fuck.” You use both hands to feel his face. It isn’t stone, but velvety  skin that’s cold to the touch. His horns feel like bone, and you feel  sinew and muscle as you touch his chest. “Holy fucking fuck!” You pull  back in alarm. “You’re THE Amadou? The one on the window? The one I give  coffee to?”

Amadou lowers himself and smiles. “I appreciate that,  by the way. Do you know how hard it is getting anything, looking like  this?”

“Oh!” You press your hands around your head and pull at your hair. “You’re alive!”

“Technically,”  he says with a shrug. “Only at night, but I at least have you to thank  for that.” He holds out his hand. “Let me take you home. I’ll keep watch  over you tonight.”

“I have so many questions!” You blurt out. “This is crazy! You and Rabid? Just because of some paintings?”

“You’ve  kicked the wrong hornet’s nest, I’m afraid.” Amadou takes your hand and  pulls you back into his arms. He holds you like a princess, and your  confused brain stills for a moment. “Hold on tight. I’m about to take  off.”

“Take off what?” You turn to look up at him, and he smirks.  He flaps his wings and jumps into the air. As you sail into the night  sky you cling tightly to him, burying your face in his impressive chest  musculature.

Eventually you’re able to lift your head, and you  watch the city twinkle below you. As you look back at Amadou, so many  questions run through your head, but they go quiet as you observe him.  He was always the bright spot in your day. Who knew he was even brighter  at night?

Amadou sets you down on the roof of your building.  “You’ll be safe here. Too many people live in this building, so there  are too many witnesses.”

“For Rabid?” you ask. “Why is he chasing me?”

“I  can’t be certain. All that I know is that somehow he and Solomon Savage  are linked. I think he’s sent Rabid after you.” Amadou touches your  temple and gently tucks your hair behind your ear. “Not to worry. I’m  going to watch over you during the evenings. Hopefully, during the day,  you’ll be safe.”

You swallow, finding your throat still raw from the mace. “Why only at night?”

“Those  are the rules,” he chuckles. “For now, at least.” He takes your hand  into his. “It’s a lot to explain, but right now is not the time. I’ll go  to your window, get inside and lock all your doors. Don’t answer for  anyone.”

“So the gargoyles on the building are cursed?” you  exclaim, almost excited. “I always knew there was something remarkable  about you!”

Amadou chuckles shyly. “I’m trying to protect you. Now is not the time.”

All  you want to do is race up to him and study every facet of his face and  body. He’s beautiful as a statue, and he looks even more stunning now.  But this is no time to be getting starry-eyed. There is a villain after  you.

You wake in the morning, realizing your phone’s alarm isn’t going  off. Then you remember that you dropped your phone at the museum, and  Rabid probably has it now. You groan, sitting up in bed to see a figure  standing at your window.

You walk up to the statue outside,  placing your hand on his back. Last night he felt like velvet, but he’s  returned to the cold stone you had known for so long. Looking up at  Amadou, you see his gaze is focused intensely outside. You don’t  remember when you fell asleep, but you must have been exhausted. Amadou  stayed all night watching out for you. What will your co-workers think  when they find your office building is missing a gargoyle?

You  splash cold water on your face and get ready for work, leaving a note  taped to Amadou in case you don’t get home before nightfall. Walking  into work, you’re on pins and needles. You half expect to be grabbed and  ripped to shreds as soon as you walk through the door. But nothing  happens, and no one seems to be aware of anything that happened to you.

It’s  not until you sit down and turn on your work computer that you finally  notice something wrong. The whole computer is wiped. All your research,  all your progress, your data and backups - all of it’s gone. The only  thing left for you is a document in the center of the home screen. You  sit and stare at that document on the screen. “Well, shit.” You click to  open it.

“I hope this note finds you well. Just in case you  didn’t get the message last night, I think it’s best you give up the  ghost. What you will find beyond those paintings is a world you don’t  wish to entangle yourself in. If you wish to keep digging, then this  note is your last beacon to safety. If you lay low, last night is the  worst of your troubles. If you choose to ignore this note, then I’ll be  seeing you soon.” After a few minutes of staring, the screen suddenly  goes black, and you hurriedly get away from it.

You want to go to  your editor to talk about it, but you recall how he insisted you didn’t  look any further into the story with Solomon Savage. He could be  working for Solomon, or at least being bought off by him. You leave the  building, feeling unsafe without Amadou there.

You pass the  museum, expecting to see police cars and who knows what out there after  the chase last night. You know Rabid bounced off the walls and touched  displays without a single alarm going off. Your chase had done a lot of  damage, so you expect there to be some sort of commotion. Instead, the  museum is closed for renovations. No police cars, no cops, not even a  police horse around.

“Not liking this,” you mutter to yourself.  You leave, fearing you’ll see the museum director or be spotted by one  of Solomon’s men. If Solomon Savage has Rabid, one of the worst villains  in the world, in his back pocket, doesn’t that make him a bad guy, too?  Then again, you can’t think of a billionaire who isn’t a bad guy in one  way or another.  Still, having Rabid as your ally isn’t good,  especially if Rabid was only following orders.

You decide to go to  the only place you felt safe researching Solomon Savage - the library.  It’s the only place you can hopefully research anonymously, without  leaving a trail. You can go through the archives about him.

Old  newspapers reveal that in his student years he was a bright but troubled  young man. He excelled in his studies, but had issues with authority  and constantly bucked the system. Had it not been for his money, he  would have been removed from all the schools he attended.

Later  years showed his growing research development business with his partner  and cofounder, Dr. Maksim Harlan. The two worked together very closely  for years, until one day Solomon disappeared. It happened shortly after  they were researching a meteorite crash site. They collected samples,  and then Solomon fell off the radar. Most of his work was seized by the  government, leaving Dr. Harlan abandoned and without a penny to his  name.

You know that name, but only because of your recent  dealings with the Hephaestus Academy. Dr. Harlan is a professor there  now, working on training future scientists, both super and regular.

You  get yourself a burner phone with what little cash you have and call the  school to schedule a meeting with Dr. Harlan, giving a fake name and  reason for showing up. It’s getting late as you finish scheduling the  meeting, and as you step outside a chill goes down your spine. Taking a  sharp breath, you quickly go down the street towards home.

You’re  almost there when something falls from a tree in front of you. You  start to reach for your mace, but it’s not there. The figure rises  before you, towering, and then its wings flex.

“It’s just me,” Amadou says gently.

“You scared the shit out of me!” You clutch your chest. “I’ve been on high alert all day.”

Amadou shakes his head. “Why did you even go out?”

You  approach him and take his hand. You feel safer now than you did on your  own. “I had to know. I couldn’t just sit and stew in it. I also don’t  want him to get away with this.”

Amadou scowls. “It’s not safe, and during the day I can’t protect you.”

You  frown. “I got myself into this mess, and the least I can do is sweep  the mess out from under Solomon’s rug. He’s hiding something, and if  he’s hiding that work with Rabid, the world deserves to know.”

Amadou frowns and his ears fold back. “So you’d rather save the world than yourself.”

You shrug. “The world has a lot more problems than I do.”

A  soft smile spreads across his face, and Amadou pulls you into a hug.  You relax in his embrace, feeling comforted after a long day of having  to look over your shoulder for hours.

“I’m glad you’re alright,”  Amadou murmurs. “But from this point on, your safety is my job. Try not  to get yourself in too much more trouble.”

“You still have to  explain to me this whole ‘not being made of stone’ thing.” You wave your  hand over his body. “I thought I had just been talking to the wall all  this time.”

“It got through,” Amadou smirks. “It was the first  voice I had heard in so long. That’s when I was finally able to start  waking up. It’s a long story.” He laces his fingers with yours, and  something about it feels familiar to you.

“I honestly have nothing else to do between putting my life in danger and fearing for it,” you try to joke.

Amadou  nods and takes a deep breath. “Let’s start with once upon a time.  Hundreds of years ago, there was a castle on a cliff. It was inhabited  by a young queen who had just given birth to her first and only child.  The queen’s husband, who was a powerful wizard, vanished during a war,  so she wanted to protect her daughter. Over the years, she befriended  the beasts who lived in the waters and caves of the cliffs. She made  them her knights and guardians, creating one of the most impenetrable  fortresses in the kingdom.

“Her daughter grew up to be wise and  lovely, but also enamoured with the beasts. She fell in love with one,  carrying on a secret affair with him. He would fly her from the roof of  the castle to the caves of the cliff. One day, a strange man came to the  castle. He was angered by the creatures who had seemingly taken over,  and used magic to curse the invaders. He turned them stone, one by one,  until he came into the throne room. He revealed himself to be the lost  king and insisted on having his kingdom returned to him.

“The  queen, seeing her long-lost husband had gone mad, tried to calm him. The  beasts had become her friends and confidants, and it was against her  will for the old king to harm them. Try though she might to placate him,  his anger was so great that he killed the queen. He went to find his  daughter, only to discover her love affair with the monstrous knight.

“He  cursed them both and all those within the castle. Taking pity on his  child, he cursed her to go to neither heaven nor hell, and instead to be  reborn. Only then would the curse on the castle and all those inside be  lifted, if only temporarily. During the night, they would stalk the  earth, turning to stone once the sun rose. I think that…” He stops and  turns his head. His ears perk up and he pulls you close to his side.

“Is something wrong?” you whisper.

“Not  sure.” His eyes scan the night. “I thought I heard something.” He  protectively puts his arm around you. “This isn’t a safe place to be. We  should get you home.”

“That can’t exactly be safe, either. Maybe  we should hide somewhere else for the night.” You take in the concerned  look on his face, and continue walking at a quicker pace. “What happened  then? Did the princess get reborn? What about her knight?”

Amadou chuckles. “They must be together again.”

You  decide to go to your office. You have a key and can get inside, and  there are security cameras that could capture anyone breaking into the  building. Amadou flies you up to the roof, where the two of you hide out  for the night. You look out over the city as the wind blows through  your hair. Amadou takes the hat you gave him and places it on your head.

“Thanks,” you chuckle shyly.

“It’ll  at least keep your hair from blowing around.” Amadou leans over the  edge. You take in the size of him, his long, long arms roped with  muscle. His back arches slightly, with spikes protruding along the  spine. You recall running your fingers down those spines until you  touched the base of his tail. But you’ve never done that before. Have  you?

“This world is amazing,” Amadou murmurs. “All the lights, the sounds - there was nothing ever like this back home.”

“Do you miss it?” you ask.

“It’s  sort of hard to remember. The long sleep took them all away.” He stands  erect, towering over you again. “I can remember vague things, but  mostly what I recall is not the world, but the people.”

“Is there anyone in particular you miss?”

“One  person,” he whispers. “But it doesn’t do my mind well to dwell on  that.” He looks down at you and smiles. “I’m here now, and my life is  starting over. I have to get to know this world and figure out my place  in it.”

“That’s brave,” you remark. “Coming from such a different time, and into one so strange, I would be terrified.”

Amadou  chuckles. “I think you’d be surprised at what you are really capable  of. After last night, I’m sure most people would have locked themselves  away or given up the chase. But you’ve only begun to fight.”

“I  don’t want a world ruled by men like Solomon Savage, even though it  practically is,” you say, “If I can take down even one, all the better,  right?”

Amadou takes your hand again. “I’ll help you, even if I am useful only half the time.”

You  fall asleep in Amadou’s arms, his wings wrapped around you like a tent.  You dream that you’re standing over a cliff and looking out over the  ocean. As you step closer to the edge, something flies up from the  bottom of the cliff. You look up and stretch your arms out, grabbing  hold of Amadou’s hands as he comes in to land. You pull him into your  arms, hugging him tight.

“I’m glad you’re home!” You say excitedly.

Amadou  touches your face and brushes his finger against your bottom lip. “It  has been a long time, my princess. I must get used to you again.”

You  wake as a car horn blares through the night and sit up, rising with  Amadou. You rub your eyes as he looks over the edge. A second later he’s  tackled and thrown back across the roof.

You scramble, jumping to  your feet and racing towards the door. A car is thrown, crashing above  your head as you unlock it. You careen down the stairs, nearly stumbling  and falling several times. From above, someone jumps down the stair  shaft and lands at the bottom.

“We just want to talk,” Rabid  snarls. His voice is the low, sinister growl of a tiger bearing down for  the kill. “Since you don’t want to listen to clearly-written warnings.”

“Someone  wouldn’t be working this hard to silence me if there wasn’t something  worth hiding.” You turn back towards the door but it slams shut in your  face. You scream, and then Rabid is right behind you.

“We don’t  know where you found that little friend of yours, but you’re lucky to  have him.” Rabid is holding his side, which is oozing deep orange blood.  “Had,” he corrects.

You press your back to the door and jiggle the handle. It’s locked from the other side. “How did you know I wasn’t listening?”

Rabid tilts his head up and he chuckles. “You’re not the only one we’re watching.”

“You keep saying ‘we’.”

Rabid  lunges at you and you duck, just as the door bursts open and Amadou  crashes through. He knocks Rabid over the railing, falling with him down  the shaft. You race back out onto the roof and lean over the edge,  trying to see if there’s anyone you can call for to help. Instead, a  gunshot knocks the hat off your head. You run, ducking back into the  building.

Rabid claws up over the railing, hissing in your face  before Amadou flies up and grabs him. He flings Rabid outside while you  race down the stairs. You dash into one of the offices above the  newspaper, head towards a window, fling it open and throw yourself out  of it. As you do, Amadou snatches you from midair and flies off with  you.

Rabid screams as you fly off. There was no way to win by  fighting - Amadou would turn to stone soon, and then you would be left  to Rabid’s mercy. Right now, it’s safer to escape and hide than fight.

Amadou  takes you to a pier on the coast. You find an old beach house that’s  been abandoned to hide in. Once you’re settled, the sun begins to rise.

“You  have to be careful,” Amadou breathes. “I can’t protect you once the sun  comes up.” He touches your cheek, then smooths his thumb across your  bottom lip. “It’ll be alright. Don’t be scared.”

You press a kiss to his lips as sunlight begins to filter through the boarded-up windows. “I’m not,” you whisper.

Amadou moves in for another kiss, turning to stone the moment your lips touch.

“I  have my knight,” you whisper. You settle down, resting against his  stone form. You should stay awake, you know. Someone has to keep watch.  But after such a horrible night, you can barely hold your eyes open. You  fall asleep against Amadou, only to be scared awake by thunder.

You  feel drips of rain on your face, falling from a leak in the roof, and  outside lightning illuminates the sky. You sit up and look at Amadou.  He’s still stone, so it means it is still daylight even though the storm  has made it dark. You rest against the wall, taking slow, deep breaths,  then stand up and go out onto the porch. The ocean is choppy and gray.  Small waves are crashing onto the shore, assuring that bigger ones are  behind them. The trees dip sideways as the wind blows, and rain comes  down in pulsing sheets.

Back inside you hear a crackle like logs  in a fire. You turn, seeing flecks of stone flake from Amadou’s fingers  as he moves. The stone is cracking and chipping away. You move closer to  help, breaking fragments of it away from his face until he takes a  breath. He stretches his wings, and debris flies everywhere. Then he  stretches out his arms and brings you close to his chest.

“We made it,” he breathes. He looks towards the door and sees the storm outside. “How long has it been raining?”

“I’m not sure. I woke up to the thunder.” You stand and close the door.

“I’m sorry it must be this way,” he grumbles. “I am sure the last thing you want to do is hide.”

You sit back down beside him and take hold of his hand. “Don’t worry,” you murmur. “I’m not giving up, so neither should you.”

Amadou smiles down at you. “You’re far too brave for your own good.”

“That’s  why I have you.” You kiss him, pressing close this time. He won’t turn  to stone for hours, so you want to make sure this kiss lasts. “My  knight,” you whisper to him.

Amadou clutches his arms around you with a soft whimper. “Princess.”

“So it’s true.” You pull back.

“I  didn’t want you thinking you had to rely on who you once were,” he  murmurs. “You’re you now - alive, beautiful, and stupidly courageous.”

You chuckle and hold his hand to your cheek. “But I remember things. Touches and moments. They’ve all been coming to me slowly.”

“I loved you then,” Amadou whispers, pressing his forehead to yours. “So much I cannot describe the pain of waking without you.”

“Don’t cry.” You kiss tears from his cheek.

“These  are happy tears,” Amadou sniffles sweetly. “I am not sad at all.” He  cups your face between his large hands. “I can hold you again. That is  all I want.”

You kiss him, slowly wrapping yourself around him.  The heat between your legs grows into a passion that is all too  familiar. You remember the cave where you made love. His skin was cold  compared to your warmth, and your breath steamed as you breathed into  him. His tail would wrap around your waist and he would dip his head to  kiss your breasts.

You undress now, removing your shirt so you can  press your bare skin to his. His fingers trail up your skin and he  nuzzles happily between your breasts. He pushes up your bra, kissing and  licking the hard peaks he finds. He nurses, moaning against your skin  as the ache in your loins grows.

“It’s been too long,” he pants. “I’m not used to you anymore.”

You  kiss him, hurriedly chucking aside your pants. His dick has started to  come out of an opening in his groin. It looks like a large navel, but it  opens and dribbles with something wet. His shaft is bright pink at the  end, darkening to black at the base. The head is slightly pointed, and  the curve of the shaft becomes bulbous around the center. It’s glossy  and slick, dripping with that same wetness.

He tastes sweet as you  kiss him there. The wetness is sugary and lemony in a way that’s  pleasant and strange. His long fingers rub your folds, gently squeezing  with each lick and kiss you give his shaft. The odd shape makes it hard  to suck, so you drag your mouth down the side. He shudders and moans,  thrashing his tail as more of the shaft pulses from the opening.

You  whimper as his fingers slip inside you, and his thumb rubs against your  clit. It’s been a long time since you last had sex. You squeeze around  his fingers, feeling them curl inside you. Sitting up, you look into his  eyes as you straddle his lap, rubbing yourself against him. You review  vivid memories of all the times you made love. The cave was lit by a  single torch as the waves crashed against the cliff.

Outside, the  storm rages, thunder booms and rain splashes from the windows. “I want  you,” you whisper to him. “Before the sun rises, I want all of you.”

Amadou growls low in his throat. “I am yours. I will never belong to anyone else. My princess,” he moans, “take me.”

You  accept Amadou inside, squeezing tightly around him. He moans into your  ear, gasping for breath as you ride him. His tail has curled itself  around your waist while his hands are squeezed around your hips.

You’ve  never felt this before, but you remember it from long ago. The bulbous  curve inside molds itself to your shape, and every time you move you  feel it pulse. You tremble as you thrust your hips, so Amadou arches  his. He thrusts upwards into you, making you bury your face in his  chest. He snarls and grunts, bestial and hungry.

You lick his  chest, gently nibbling until you feel a shudder deep inside. He tilts  his head down, kissing you as the shudder becomes a throb. You cry out  against his kiss, dragging your nails down his side. Amadou holds you  up, keeping you flush against his chest. His wings wrap around you as he  cradles you lovingly. He continues to move inside you, slowly pulling  out. He sighs heavily, twitching before he lets out a soft laugh.

“So new,” he whispers, “but just like it was.”

You lift your head, kissing him again. “I remembered every moment.”

He  kisses you back and smiles. “I promise, this time I will protect you.”  Tears trickle down his cheek. You brush them away and he nuzzles his  cheek into your palm.

Amadou trembles. “My princess, I’ll keep you safe. I won’t lose you again.”