Richards Charlie Gargoyles Of Cuchulian 3 Binding Santos

Santos is a demon, enjoying life as a bachelor and
the body of any male that strikes his fancy. But
one kiss to Tyron’s lips and he becomes obsessed
with the little gargoyle. They strike a deal. Tyron
will give him one night of passion in exchange for
information his tribe needs. But before the deal is
done, the gargoyle’s conscience kicks in and Tyron
reveals that they’re mates and that’s why Santos
can’t stop thinking about him. Scoffing at the
ridiculous notion, after all, demons don’t mate like
gargoyles do, Santos insists on fulfilling their
bargain.

Imagine his surprise when the Demon

Coalition, the ruling body of demons, kidnaps
Tyron, claiming Santos has started an unapproved
binding with the gargoyle. Santos is told their
bond must be broken. Now he has a choice, but
how can Santos decide between his own
execution, which would free Tyron, or allowing
the Coalition to sacrifice the honorable gargoyle
he’s infatuated with?

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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
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to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is
entirely coincidental.

Binding Santos

ISBN:

978-1-55487-932-8

Cover art by Martine Jardin

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Binding Santos

Gargoyles of Cuchulian Three

Charlie Richards

Dedication

To my furry companions, Scoop and Molly.

They’re always willing to put up with my

schedule and distract me when I need it.

Chapter One

antos stared across the room at Tyron. It’d been
nearly two weeks since he’d seen the small

gargoyle at a BBQ hosted by the Cuchulian clan’s
Huzza. He’d removed a rogue demoness who’d
been after one of the clan-member’s mates. He’d
met Tyron there and had been unable to get the
gargoyle out of his mind. The demon knew he’d
walked by this coffee shop a million times, but
had never been inside. This time, something drew
his attention to the place. Santos ordered a large
macchiato and wandered into the attached cyber
café. That’s when he spotted Tyron.

Santos eased into a seat out of the gargoyle’s

direct line of sight, but he needn’t have bothered.
Tyron’s focus remained on the laptop in front of
him. Every once in a while he absently sipped the
coffee beside him. Santos’s gaze swept over the
gargoyle’s human form. His lean but muscular
body relaxed in a chair, blond hair flopped over
blue eyes focused on his laptop screen, and long,
slender fingers slid over the keys.

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Santos bit back a grunt as a wave of jealousy hit

him. He wanted those hands on him, not the
damn computer. Irritation swept through him.
The gargoyle looked so relaxed while tension
filled the demon’s body. One kiss. One fucking
kiss and Santos couldn’t stop thinking about
Tyron. If he could get his dick in the smaller man’s
ass, he could get the gargoyle out of his system.

Yeah. That’s what I need. Santos just needed to

fuck Tyron and get it over with. No one had ever
truly interested him for more than a couple
rounds. The gargoyle would be no different.

Rising from his seat, Santos sauntered toward

Tyron. A glance at the monitor as he rounded the
table told Santos that the gargoyle researched
demons. Well, well, not so unaffected as he appears.
Good.

Uninvited, Santos eased into the chair closest to

Tyron and rested his hand on the man’s thigh.
“You know, all you need to do is ask, and I’d be
happy to tell you anything you want about
demons,” Santos purred, leaning toward Tyron.

The fact that the gargoyle didn’t even flinch

when Santos touched him told the demon much.
Like Tyron had been aware he approached. And
he didn’t mind expressing his sexual interest for
another male in such a public place.

“Yes, but how do I know you’d answer

truthfully, Santos,” Tyron responded. After taking

Binding Santos

off his glasses, the gargoyle shifted his gaze to the
demon. His blue eyes bore into his own. “Demons
aren’t known for their honesty.”

Tyron’s soft voice swept over Santos’s senses

like a caress, and his cock went from semi erect to
painfully hard in three seconds. “Then perhaps we
shouldn’t bother talking at all,” he replied silkily.
Santos slid his hand up Tyron’s thigh, rubbing
over the man’s cargo shorts covered leg, and
squeezed the gargoyle’s shaft. It hardened beneath
his fingers. Tyron sucked in a breath as he spread
his legs wider and leaned back.

“Or how about a trade?” Tyron murmured,

allowing his hips to thrust up, showing Santos
how much he liked his touch.

He felt pressure on his own cock and glanced

down in surprise. A pale green tail curled between
his thighs and rubbed the hard length of his
erection through his jeans. Grinning, Santos
allowed his black eyes to flash red before getting
his lust back under control. “Mmmm, nice. What
is it you want to trade?”

Tyron’s grin felt like a punch in the gut. It

transformed his handsome face into a stunning
work of art. “I can smell your desire, Santos. You
want me. You got me. If you tell me about
Leeching.”

Santos’s hand paused in its massage, and he felt

his face pale. “That subject isn’t open for

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discussion.”

The grin never faded. Instead it seemed to

ratchet up a notch. Tyron shrugged. “Then tell me
what demons had to do with The Dispersal.”

“Fuck, you pick tough subjects, pet,” Santos

muttered. But damn, did that tail feel good on his
cock. What would the leathery skin feel like if it
stroked him without the barrier of material? The
thought almost had him coming in his jeans. He
let out a painful grunt as he fought to control the
tingle in his balls. Santos knew he couldn’t say
anything about Leeching. The Demon Coalition,
the ruling body of demons, would Leech him if
Santos told anyone how to drain a demons
powers. It was forbidden. And old and powerful
though he may be, Santos was still subject to them.
But The Dispersal…well, if he could get Tyron’s
word that the information would never be used
against a demon, then he could tell a little about it.

Santos let a wicked grin split his lips, his teeth

lengthening slightly as his control over his human
guise slipped due to the lust he felt for the man
next to him. “We have an accord.” Lifting his hand
from Tyron’s cock, his held it out.

Tyron took it quickly and gave it a squeeze.

Santos felt the tingle of a binding agreement
shiver up his arm. No getting out of this now,
which meant Tyron was all his. Tyron released his
hand, and before Santos could move, the lithe

Binding Santos

gargoyle straddled his hips. Santos growled low in
his throat as the object of his lust rocked their
cocks together.

“There is something you need to know before

we consummate

this agreement,” Tyron

whispered.

“Time for talk is done,” Santos growled, caring

only for the promise of sex with this man. He saw
Tyron open his mouth to protest. Leaning
forward, Santos closed the gap between them and
sealed his lips over Tyron’s. His tongue pushed
into the smaller man’s mouth and plundered,
mapping the man, tasting his essence. Power
tempered by self-control, kindness coupled with
responsibility, desire wrapped in restraint, and
spicy male musk assaulted his senses. He cupped
the man’s face, and using a thumb, pressed at the
corner of his mouth. Tyron opened wider in
response, allowing Santos more access.

Not enough, his mind and body growled

simultaneously. More. Need more. Need everything.
Digging deep into the recesses of the earth’s
power, he snapped them both along a lei line and
hurtled them into his penthouse suite. Santos
landed in a deep armchair. The gargoyle leaped
from his lap, his wings unfurling, tearing through
his shirt, as he morphed into his true gargoyle
form. A crown of seven black horns rimmed the
ridge above his blue eyes and down toward his

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now pointed ears. His pale skin darkened slightly
into a light mottled green and his t-shirt pulled
tight over thickening muscles and skin. He kicked
out of his shoes before his talons shredded the
leather loafers he wore.

“Where the hell am I?” he growled.
Santos grinned, letting go of his own guise,

revealing deep red skin and short, curved black
horns that jutted from his temples. “My home. As
much as I enjoy a little exhibitionism, I figured
neither of us wanted to allow the humans to arrest
us for public indecency, because when I fuck you,
neither of us will be wearing any clothes.”

At that, Tyron shook his head. “Well, you

managed to leave my laptop and glasses behind. I
kinda need both.”

Confusion flooded Santos until he remembered

the deep self-control and responsibility he’d felt in
the gargoyle. “Of course.” Closing his eyes, Santos
reached back along the path they’d come and felt
for anything tagged with Tyron’s essence. He felt
a third item and realized it was a coffee. Grabbing
all of them with his mind, he brought them to him,
using his thoughts to make them appear on the
coffee table. Santos pointed and smiled. “Better?”

Tyron strode toward them and scraped his

short talons over the items, as if convincing
himself that they were real. After a second, he
turned to Santos and gave him that one hundred

Binding Santos

watt smile again. “Much.” But when Santos
started toward him, he held up a hand. “Wait.”

The demon ignored the word and pulled his

soon-to-be lover into his arms. “Don’t want to.”

“Do you want to be bound to me?”
The question caught Santos off guard. He knew

demons that believed they’d found their other
halves, their bindling, and bound themselves to
one partner, sharing thoughts and feelings,
remaining faithful for as long as they both lived.
He’d never considered doing it himself even in all
the centuries he’d lived. “What?” His confusion
evident in that one word.

Tyron carefully extricated himself from Santos’s

embrace, and this time the demon let him go. “I
thought about letting you go through with the
bargain without telling you, but I can’t. It would
be wrong.”

“What are you talking about?”
Tyron’s smile turned sad, and Santos started to

reach for him again, wanting to do anything to
remove the sadness from the gargoyle’s eyes.
Tyron’s words stalled his attempt. “I just wanted
you to know what you’d be getting into if you
have sex with me. You’re my mate, Santos. I
realized it the first time I kissed you. Having sex
with me may consummate that mating. I read
about demon bonding on-line. It sounded similar
to a gargoyle’s mating. I’ll be compelled to bite

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you. I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself. I just
wanted to warn you that if we do this, you may
end up only being able to perform with me.”

Santos’s mind froze for thirty very long,

agonizing seconds before the denials started
coming.

Binding Santos

Chapter Two

yron watched disbelief fill the red irises of the
demon’s eyes. He didn’t think Santos would

believe him, but he’d had to try. How a centuries
plus demon couldn’t recognize his own mate was
beyond Tyron. Whatever. Soon Santos would
figure it out.

Another thought gave him pause. What if

mating was a choice with demons? God, that
would suck. Nothing for it though. His leader,
Maximus, needed the information Santos could
give him about The Dispersal. And there was no
way Tyron would pass up getting fucked by the
sexy demon.

Then he felt Santos’s arms slide around him, his

hands landing on his ass and pulling him against a
hard, well-muscled chest. Damn, that felt good.
“Demons don’t mate like other creatures, pet.
We’ll both be fine.”

The demon’s lips sealed over Tyron’s, and as

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Santos plundered his mouth, his thoughts
scattered. Besides, what was the point of arguing
about it when they both wanted the same thing?
He’d deal with the repercussions later. Much later,
he decided, as he rubbed his aching cock against
the bigger man’s thigh. The answering thickness
pushing against his stomach made his mouth
water.

Breaking the kiss, Tyron dropped to his knees

and reached for the button on the demon’s pants.
He glanced up, asking permission with his eyes.
Santos’s smile turned feral, and he dropped his
hands to Tyron’s shoulders, squeezing gently.
Easing open the button of Santos’s jeans, he
reached in and pulled out the large piece of meat
he’d been massaging with his tail.

The demon’s cock jumped in his hands. He

wrapped his fingers tightly around Santos’s hard-
as-nails dick, stroking slowly, learning his mate’s
length and girth. Ten inches of glorious, thick,
heavily veined flesh filled his hand. He could
barely get his fingers all the way around it. His
asshole fluttered as he anticipated having the
demon’s massive length buried inside him. Desire
filled him with excitement, but first, he needed to
taste the demon.

He moved his head forward and slid his tongue

from root to tip, enjoying the smooth skin and
salty sweat of the creature in front of him.

Binding Santos

Reaching the broad flat head, engorged with
blood, Tyron slid his tongue into the slit and
pulled a large drop of pre-cum into his mouth. He
heard Santos’s grunt of pleasure just as Tyron
moaned his enjoyment at the spicy, tangy taste of
his mate.

Unable to hold back any longer, Tyron

wrapped his lips around Santos’s red-skinned
shaft and slid all the way down, carefully twisting
his head to keep his horns out of the way. He had
to open his throat to take all of the demon’s
length, and he silently thanked eighty-seven years
of practice. Caressing the throbbing vein running
the underside of Santos’s cock, he sucked hard as
he drew his head back up.

“Tyron!”
Santos growled his name, making Tyron smile.

Santos grabbed two of his horns and pleasure
exploded through Tyron’s system. The tingles
went straight to his cock, making his rock hard
shaft twitch and jerk in his cargo shorts as beads
of pre-cum soaked his boxers. It wasn’t often he
found a partner willing to touch his horns, but, oh,
the sensations it caused was well worth the search.
To have Santos do it, without asking, fulfilled a
deep longing inside Tyron that he didn’t even
know he’d had.

Santos used his grip on Tyron’s horns to tilt his

head up, allowing the demon’s red eyed gaze to

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stare down at him as he held him steady. His mate
started thrusting his red dick in and out of Tyron’s
mouth, lust clearly written on Santos’s face as he
used Tyron’s mouth for his pleasure. Tyron
opened his throat and took everything Santos
threw at him. He sucked hard on the thick cock
filling his mouth, sliding his tongue along the
throbbing vein and dipping the tip of his tongue
into the slit whenever he could. He was never
disappointed, always able to pull a large dollop of
cream from the demon.

Santos’s breathing increased, along with the

speed of his thrusts. The demon began caressing
the horns in his hands, sliding his palms from root
to tip and back again as he thrust his hips in
counterpoint. The sensations sent jolts of pure
pleasure through Tyron’s system, centering in his
cock, and he thought he’d explode right then. He
gripped Santos’s hip tightly for purchase with one
hand and quickly scrabbled with the button and
zipper of his slacks with the other. He barely
managed to get them open, freeing his straining
erection from his pants and boxers when, without
warning, Santos threw his head back and roared.
As a stream of tangy cum hit the back of Tyron’s
throat, Santos squeezed the horns he held. The
grip transferred straight to his shaft and the head
of his cock exploded, streams of seed bursting
from his dick.

Binding Santos

Tyron happily swallowed down everything

Santos gave him as waves of ecstasy flowed
through him in time with the pulses thrumming
through his shaft. As he licked Santos’s dick clean,
he felt soft caresses on his horns, sending shivers
down his spine. His cock jerked, sending one more
stream onto the floor in front of him.

Santos pulled his semi-hard cock from Tyron’s

mouth and released his horns. He couldn’t help it.
He mewled at the loss. He loved his mate’s hands
on his horns and couldn’t wait to feel them on his
dick. Santos grinned, showing off sharper than
normal teeth, and pulled Tyron to his feet. He
slanted his lips over Tyron’s mouth in a brutal,
claiming kiss, sliding his tongue deep into Tyron’s
mouth, just as he’d done with his cock seconds
before.

“Mmmm, I taste good on you,” Santos

murmured, breaking the kiss. “Come with me.”

Seconds later, Tyron found himself in a large,

airy bedroom. Floor to ceiling windows lined one
wall, spilling bright sunlight into every corner of
the room. The light revealed a dark mahogany bed
draped in deep red quilts and pillows. A matching
dresser and pair of nightstands completed the
furniture, giving it a dark, masculine feel.

“There’s something about fucking out in the

open I just can’t resist,” the demon crooned,
drawing Tyron toward the windows.

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He allowed Santos to position him against the

glass, facing the wide blue sky and shorter condo
buildings. With Tyron’s hands splayed on the
glass, Santos stood behind him and wrapped his
arms around Tyron, unbuttoning his shirt with
quick, sure movements. Seconds later, Santos
maneuvered his shirt from him, revealing a
slender, hairless, pale green chest. His pants were
removed next, leaving him naked in front of the
window.

“I told you I’m a bit of an exhibitionist,” Santos

whispered in his ear, sending a shiver through
him as goose bumps rose on his leathery skin. Soft
caresses drifted down his spine, around his hips,
and down the crease of his groin. Tyron’s cock
jumped, desperate for touch, but Santos ignored it.
Instead he cupped and rolled Tyron’s balls in one
hand while the other traced the ridges of Tyron’s
six pack. “The idea of someone watching me take
you excites me almost as much as seeing you
splayed out against my window, waiting for my
shaft to split you wide open.”

Santos’s words had Tyron’s cock thickening

further, and he knew if he looked down, he’d see
himself standing at the ready again, a pearl of pre-
cum glistening on his head. Instead he kept his
gaze focused on the image reflected in the
window. He shifted his stance wider and thrust
his ass out, searching for contact behind him. He

Binding Santos

wasn’t disappointed. Tyron felt the head of
Santos’s shaft rub along his crack.

“You like that idea, don’t you, gargoyle?”

Santos hissed, rubbing his cock more firmly
against Tyron. Like him, the demon’s dick was
already standing hard and ready for round two,
leaking pre-cum along the small of his back and
into the crack of his ass.

“Yes,” Tyron groaned, rocking his hips

backward, encouraging Santos’s touches. “I want
you to take me here, now, where anyone could
see.” And he did. He couldn’t think of anything
better than showing everyone who cared to watch
that he was Santos’s mate, even if the demon
didn’t realize it yet.

“Good. Brace yourself,” the demon ordered.
Tyron obeyed. He heard Santos spit into his

palm, and then felt the blunt head of the demon’s
cock at his entrance. He pushed out as Santos
pushed in, and the head of that massive shaft
popped into his ass. But Santos didn’t stop. The
demon continued to thrust forward, slow and
steady, forcing his way further and further into
Tyron’s rectum. Tyron relished the burn, loved the
feeling of his mate taking him hard and forceful.
He canted his hips, allowing Santos to push a little
bit deeper, fill him up just a little bit more. He
couldn’t remember anything feeling so good.

The weight of the demon behind him pressed

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him against the warm glass in front of him, and
Tyron’s dick smeared copious amount of pre-cum
on the glass. Once finally seated, the demon
stopped, pinning him there, making him wait. He
could feel the demon plastered along his back and
legs as he locked him in place with his body and
dick. He started tiny shallow thrusts. The slight,
glancing blows along his prostate making him
tremble underneath the demon.

“Oh, yes, gargoyle. This is how I like you.

Spread out so the world can see what a slut you
are for me. Your hard cock, tall and thick, pressed
against the glass. Your body trembling as I bury
my dick in you and take my pleasure. You wait for
me to give you what you need. I am in control and
can do what I want with you.”

The demon’s commanding voice sent pleasure,

need, and contentment in equal measure
cascading through Tyron. “Yesss,” he hissed, his
head twisted awkwardly to the side to
accommodate the demon’s heavy body pressing
behind him, the unyielding glass in front of him,
and his horns. “I am yours to do with as you will,”
he said, knowing his words were more true than
the demon realized. After today, he’d want no
other and could only pray Santos would feel the
same.

The demon’s hands caressed his sides, then slid

down to caress his ass, pulling his cheeks apart to

Binding Santos

give Santos the ability to plunge his ever
increasing strokes deeper. Santos’s hot breath
caressed his cheek, then the back of his neck.
Those talented lips latched onto his nape, pulling
up a mark.

Joy filled Tyron that Santos wanted to mark

him. It might not be a bite, but it was something.
His cock pulsed at the feelings rocking through his
body, and he knew he wasn’t long in coming,
feeling amazed that he could get off so easily with
his mate. And then Santos lifted one hand to
Tyron’s temple, his fingertips teasing where his
horns met skull. It was too much. His body started
vibrating as Tyron fought for control.

“Come for me, Tyron,” Santos ordered, barely

lifting his lips from where they continued to suck,
sending tendrils of pleasure down his spine to his
balls, making them draw ever tighter to his body.

Tyron roared as his orgasm pulsed through

him. His canines lengthened further, and he
twisted in Santos’s grip. Finding the demon’s
neck, he struck, sinking his teeth deeply into his
mate. Santos threw his head back and howled his
own release. As Tyron drank Santos’s blood, he
felt the demon’s cock pulse even larger as hot cum
splashed inside him, filling his hole.

He released his mate’s neck, licking the bite

clean. He leaned his head on the glass and smiled,
letting the waves of pleasure from his orgasm

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carry him for several minutes.

“Holy fuck,” he heard Santos whisper against

his neck.

“Definitely,” he replied, loving that he’d blown

the centuries old demon away.

Seconds later, he felt his mate’s shaft slide from

his body. Then the demon turned him around and
claimed Tyron’s mouth in a mind-numbing kiss.
When he broke it, both of them were breathing
heavy again, and Tyron could feel his cock making
a valiant effort to ready for another round.

Santos chuckled and shook his head. “Rest

first,” he said, pulling Tyron toward the bed. “Lay
down.” He eased under the covers and watched
Santos cross to a bathroom. The demon came back
a moment later with a warm, damp cloth. He
waved Tyron’s hand away and proceeded to
gently go about the intimate act of cleaning the
gargoyle himself. After tossing the cloth onto the
floor, he crawled into bed and spooned up behind
Tyron.

Tyron settled against his mate, a sigh of

contentment leaving him before sleep claimed
him.

Binding Santos

Chapter Three

antos slowly swam to wakefulness, enjoying the
heat of the body draped over his chest. Cracking

an eye, he stared down at Tyron, and a smile
curved his lips. He couldn’t remember the last
time he’d experienced such mind-numbing back
to back orgasms, or when he’d invited his fuck
into his bed. But the way the gargoyle greedily
took his cock, both in his mouth and in his ass,
had tingles moving down Santos’s spine at the
mere thought of taking Tyron again. He felt his
cock bob against his stomach, as if waving in
hearty agreement.

Grinning, he eased the sleeping gargoyle all the

way onto his chest, shifting Tyron’s legs to
straddle his waist. The head of his weeping cock
slid between Tyron’s legs and along the crack of
his ass, making Santos hiss in pleasure. Tyron still
didn’t wake. Damn, the gargoyle slept like a rock.
But Santos would make sure he didn’t sleep

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through what he had in mind.

Reaching under his pillow, Santos found his

well-used bottle of lube and squirted a generous
amount onto his fingers. He’d started sleeping
with it under his pillow after that damn kiss at the
BBQ, and Santos planned to take advantage of
Tyron’s hot little body for as long as their bargain
held out. The thought of Tyron leaving his bed, no
matter how inevitable, saddened the demon,
though why he couldn’t explain. He’d tire of
Tyron soon, just like he did all his play-things.

Dismissing the irrelevant thoughts, Santos slid

a hand down Tyron’s leathery back, enjoying the
texture of the gargoyle’s hide. He settled the lubed
fingers at Tyron’s entrance, smearing the slick
along the puckered hole he wanted into. Taking
him dry twice in one day was just cruel, no matter
what species he was.

When he slid a finger inside Tyron’s ass,

Santos’s cock jumped, clearly eager to explore that
place again. He felt a drop of pre-cum slide down
his cockhead, the sensation sending minute
tremors through his limbs, settling in his balls.
Seconds later, he added a second finger to Tyron’s
hole. Crooking his fingers, he searched for the
small gargoyle’s pleasure gland. He knew he’d
found it when the creature lying on top of him
moaned softly and rocked back into his fingers,
mindlessly seeking more, even in sleep. Santos

Binding Santos

gave it to him, allowing Tyron to fuck himself on
his fingers for several minutes.

Finally, lust glazed, deep blue eyes opened to

stare down at him. Tyron’s breathing had
increased, but he didn’t stop rocking shamelessly,
taking the pleasure Santos offered him. He smiled,
showing off his canines, right before adding a
third finger to Tyron’s ass. The gargoyle took it,
rocking more firmly, picking up speed. The
leaking shaft trapped between their bodies told
Santos that Tyron sought release, but he had no
intention of letting the gargoyle get it until his
own cock was buried balls deep in that tight little
ass.

When he removed his fingers, Tyron moaned in

dismay, but he didn’t stay empty long. Santos
gripped the gargoyle’s hips, shifted his cock, and
shoved his way inside. Tyron’s eyes slid shut, his
features pulling taught in pleasure, as semen
warmed the skin between them. A long, low moan
vibrated out of Tyron’s chest as he trembled above
him.

Santos struggled to breathe around the death

grip Tyron’s ass had on his cock, and he tried to
come to terms with what had just happened. He
hadn’t intended to get the gargoyle off quite that
quick. Damn, it was sexy how fucking responsive
Tyron was. Once the gargoyle’s orgasm had eased,
Santos pulled his dick out until just his head

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remained in that hot, slick passage before
slamming back inside.

Bending his knees and planting his heels, he

opened Tyron’s legs further to allow him to rock
in and out of the ass he was quickly becoming
addicted to. That thought had him pausing mid
stroke, but then Tyron’s canines scraped against
his nipple, sending a burst of pleasurable pain
through his body. The gargoyle latched onto the
sensitive bud and sucked, driving everything from
Santos’s mind except the delirious sensations
derived from the body above him.

Stroking swiftly, he kneaded one small ass

cheek while bringing his other hand up to the
horns decorating the handsome gargoyle’s crown.
His eyes hooded to half mast, enjoying the glide of
his throbbing cock in and out of Tyron’s ass, he
skimmed his fingers around the base of several
horns before ghosting the length of one with his
fingertips. Tyron’s breath hitched, and he lifted his
head to stare at Santos.

The renewed lust in the gargoyle’s blue eyes

and the flush across Tyron’s cheeks and neck
amazed Santos. The creature derived so much
stimulation from the simplest of touches. As if to
back his thoughts, when he took a horn more
firmly in his grip, sliding his hand up and down,
mimicking what he planned to do to the
gargoyle’s dick, Tyron let out a harsh cry and

Binding Santos

started rocking back onto Santos’s cock, matching
him thrust for thrust. Tyron’s hole clenched and
released, milking Santos’s dick, driving his own
desire higher.

Snapping his hips up faster, he released Tyron’s

ass and gripped the satiny dick rubbing between
them. Once again hard and leaking, he jerked the
gargoyle’s shaft and horn in counterpoint to his
thrusts. Seconds later, Tyron growled. Santos
watched in awe as the little gargoyle’s blue eyes
glowed with a ferocity he’d never seen before.
Tyron jerked forward and sank his teeth into
Santos’s neck. A bite that should have been
painful flooded his system with pleasure. His balls
contracted so fast he couldn’t breathe. He snapped
his hands to the gargoyle’s hips, digging his short
claws into the leathery hide as his cock erupted in
Tyron’s ass, flooding the tight channel with his
seed. Through the intense pleasure, he felt Tyron’s
ass clamp down on his dick, throwing him into
waves of aftershocks. His cock shot again and
again until Santos felt certain he had no cum left in
his balls.

The scrape of a tongue sealing the bite mark on

his neck made his body shudder and his softening
cock jerk happily, still buried in the gargoyle
above him. He let out a shaky sigh and wrapped
his arms around the gargoyle’s warm body. He
smiled at Tyron, who lay panting on his chest.

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“Now that would be a great way to wake up

every day,” he murmured. And the idea didn’t
scare him quite as much as he was certain it
should. Interesting.

Tyron chuckled and cracked an eye to look at

him. “Definitely.”

Too bad it couldn’t be permanent, Santos

thought, not for the first time. But he knew his
attention span was far too short to make promises
he couldn’t keep. Nuzzling his face into Tyron’s
neck, he murmured, “Do you want to eat and talk?
Or stay right here and talk?”

Stay right here forever. Santos pushed the

surprising thought away and focused on Tyron’s
answer. “Here is fine,” Tyron murmured,
tightening his ass muscles around the cock still
invading his hole. “Mmmm, just fine.”

Santos chuckled, flexing his groin, making his

shaft shift inside the tight passage holding him.
Yeah, he liked it right here too. “What do you
want to know about The Dispersal, little one,” he
murmured,

surprising

himself

with

the

endearment. In all these years, he couldn’t
remember calling anyone anything except pet,
which is how he viewed his fucks. They were his
pets for a few hours.

Tyron lifted an amused brow, but didn’t

comment on the term. “My tribe is searching for
descendants of the McDarmund tribe. We’ve

Binding Santos

heard they were destroyed by rogue demons
during The Dispersal. No offense,” he added
quickly.

“None taken,” Santos whispered, his thoughts

drifting back over two hundred and fifty years.
He’d been twenty seven when it started, barely
out of puberty. “I was very young then, so can’t
tell you how accurate this information is, but…”

“You were alive during The Dispersal?”
From the tone in the gargoyle’s voice, he knew

he’d shocked Tyron. “Yes. I’ve been around a
while,” he said with a chuckle. “Everything I’m
telling you was overheard. I never talked to
anyone about gargoyles. I never saw the need,” he
admitted. It had never occurred to him to question
what he’d heard all those years ago.

“The Demon Coalition heard the Huzza of the

McDarmund tribe had come across some
information very dangerous to demons. Things we
can’t have other supernatural’s knowing,” he said,
idly tracing the seam where Tyron’s lowest horn
met his head, just above his temple.

“Like what?” Tyron asked breathlessly, making

Santos smile at the affect caressing his horns had
on the gargoyle. The idea of whether he was like
this with only Santos, or if every lover made him
react this way, pushed into his mind, momentarily
distracting him. An unfamiliar feeling filled him,
making him see red. Anger? No, jealousy? Couldn’t

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be.

Focusing on Tyron’s question, he smiled. Things

like Leeching. “I can’t tell you that, little one. Then
your tribe would be in danger of the coalition, and
we wouldn’t want that.” He leaned up and gently
brushed his lips over Tyron’s, his tongue flicking
out for a quick taste before he settled back on the
pillow. “I heard the coalition sent emissaries to
confront the gargoyle, which somehow ended in
the death of two demons. The brother and sister of
two council members, their deaths were not taken
well. The Demon Coalition decided the entire
gargoyle tribe must die for their Huzza’s crimes.”

He saw the sadness and pain filling his lover’s

eyes and rubbed his hands over Tyron’s
shoulders, trying to ease the tension. “Not
everyone agreed with their decision,” he hurried
on to say. “Some demons, which for safety’s sake
will remain nameless, sent the tribe a warning.
The Huzza didn’t heed the demon’s advice to take
his tribe and flee. Although I can’t confirm it, I did
hear that he sent away most of the hatchlings
along with several protectors, but the information
of where they were sent or who they were died
with the gargoyles. The coalition’s assassins were
very thorough, and no one in the gargoyle
stronghold survived.”

Tyron remained silent for several minutes, his

gaze fixed on some point to the demon’s left.

Binding Santos

Finally, unable to stand the pain he saw on the
sexy gargoyle’s face any longer, he cupped the
creature’s jaw and brought his lips down for a
chaste kiss. “I can introduce you to a… psychic of
sorts. She has visions of people by touching an
object owned by them.”

“How will that help us?” Tyron asked softly,

his hands lifting to tangle in Santos’s thick, black
hair.

Santos smiled, the light tugging sending shivers

of pleasure across his scalp and down his spine.
“Well, all we need to do is find something that
belonged to a hatchling of the tribe.”

Tyron gave him an amused, disbelieving smile.

“And how are we going to do that? That was over
two centuries ago.”

Chuckling, Santos reached up to caress the

gargoyle’s horns, loving the shudder than went
through the small frame above him. He wrapped
his legs around Tyron’s and rolled them until he
had Tyron under him. He settled comfortably in
the vee of the gargoyle’s thighs. “Did you forget
so quickly,” he asked, easing his rapidly
hardening dick almost out of Tyron’s hole before
sliding it back in, the way made slick and warm
by his release from such a short time ago.

“What’s that?” Tyron panted.
“I’m a detective. I can find anything,” Santos

whispered into the gargoyle’s ear before latching

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onto the sensitive flesh below Tyron’s ear. He
sucked hard at the salty, leathery flesh, eager for
another taste of the coppery skin he’d enjoyed
when he’d had the gargoyle pinned against the
window and at his mercy. A dark hickey formed
beneath his lips, giving him the flavor he wanted.

“Why?” Tyron gasped. “Why would you do

that for me?”

He grinned against the mark he’d made.

“Because when I deliver the item, I will claim this
sexy ass again,” he vowed, already anticipating
the act, even while in the midst of this one.
Surprise that he’d just planned what could
constitute a second date filled him, but it didn’t
diminish his ardor one bit.

Done talking, Santos slid his hands up the back

of Tyron’s head, through his short, blond hair, and
grabbed a horn tightly in each hand. The
gargoyle’s body bucked underneath him as he let
out a hoarse cry, telling Santos exactly what his
harsh grip did to Tyron. He glided his fists up and
down the horns and returned his attention back to
his feast at Tyron’s neck, making the mark even
darker.

The ability to speak coherently fled the creature

beneath him as Santos continually slammed his
dick into Tyron’s hole. He could feel it greedily
suck him back in with every stroke, squeezing and
massaging him. Releasing the gargoyle’s horns, he

Binding Santos

wrapped his arms around Tyron’s back and sat up
onto his knees, bringing Tyron with him and
encouraging the gargoyle to straddle his lap. “Oh,
fuck, yeah. Ride my cock, little one. Show me how
much you like it buried inside your greedy hole.”

“Yes,” Tyron groaned out through clenched

canines. Santos moved one hand between them
and wrapped his fingers around the gargoyle’s
hard prick. Tyron growled, which Santos thought
was the sexiest fucking thing he’d ever heard.
Santos tightened his hold, watching as his lover
shamelessly fucked himself between the fist on his
cock and the dick in his ass.

He watched Tyron’s blue eyes begin to glow

and his teeth lengthen. Knowing what would
come next had excited anticipation coursing
through him. Tingles danced up and down his
spine, and his balls tightened. Who would have
thought getting bitten while fucking would feel so
good? But now he couldn’t wait for that sensation
again. He titled his head, the movement
encouraging Tyron, and the gargoyle sank his
canines into Santos’s neck.

His roar filled the room as exquisite sensations

raced through his body. He felt a nearly
overwhelming urge to bite Tyron back, to show
the gargoyle how good it felt. But he held back,
knowing Tyron would mistake that as the
completion of a gargoyle mating. And then

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thought fled as his cock erupted, spewing stream
after stream of his seed into Tyron’s welcoming
channel. He vaguely heard Tyron cry out his name
as he came too, the sound making him smile,
before he collapsed on the bed. He tucked Tyron
in close to his chest and drifted happily off to
sleep, satiated beyond his wildest dreams.

Binding Santos

Chapter Four

yron stared at Santos’s sleeping form. He knew
it was cowardly to sneak out while the demon

slept, but he couldn’t stand the thought of Santos
waking and telling him to leave. If his ass hadn’t
clenched almost painfully when he’d pulled on his
cargo shorts, not to mention the pleasant aches in
all the right places, he’d have been sure this whole
experience was a fantastic dream. Never had he
been fucked so well and so thoroughly, but that
was probably because it was with his mate, right?
That’s the way it was supposed to be, wasn’t it?

After their discussion about The Dispersal and

the amazing sex, they’d slept for several hours.
Then Santos had made him a delicious dinner of
steak, rice, and asparagus. He’d thought it odd fair
for a demon, and his curiosity had gotten the
better of him, making him question it. Santos had
explained that demons technically lived off the
emotional energy of humans, which is why most

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found jobs in public places, they still required
nutrients from food as well, just not nearly as
much as most creatures. If energy from humans
was plentiful, they could go without eating
physical food for weeks.

He’d asked about his work as a detective,

wondering if it brought Santos into contact with
enough humans to remain healthy. Santos had
shrugged, telling him sometimes. He’d admitted
to also working for the Demon Coalition as a
tracker. He’d bring in wanted demons to stand
trial, which is why it had been such a simple thing
for him to find the demoness that had attacked his
clan-member’s mate several weeks ago. Santos
had silenced any more questions with a deep kiss,
which turned into a round of sex, right there on
the table. Then Santos had tossed him over his
shoulder and carried him back to bed.

Dismissing the memories, Tyron pushed to his

feet and glanced at the note he left, making certain
it would be easily found on the pillow he’d used.
He slipped silently from the bedroom, grabbed his
laptop and glasses, and left the condo. He found
himself at an elevator. He took it down to the
main floor and walked out of an impressive condo
building. Pausing, he craned his neck and gazed
up at the top floor, wondering if Santos still slept.
Releasing a sigh, he rounded a corner of the
building, pulled off his already torn shirt, and

Binding Santos

unfurled his wings. He took to the air, letting the
cool morning breezes and floating sensation sooth
his nerves.

Twenty minutes later, he landed outside

Rostrorod, the clan home of the gargoyles. He
waved to a couple gargoyles, mostly keeping his
head down since he knew he smelled of sex.
Reaching his rooms, he showered quickly and
then hurried to the infirmary. He wished he had
time to meditate for half an hour. He wanted to
clear his mind and settle his emotions, but he was
late as it was. He promised himself an hour of
meditation tonight to make up for it. Nothing
relaxed him faster, and he’d probably need it to
keep from hunting his mate down.

Grabbing a scrub coat, he pulled it on and

greeted Cosmo, a gargoyle nurse training to be a
doctor who often worked the night shift. “Sorry
I’m late,” he said. “I lost track of time.”

“No problem,” Cosmo replied. “It’s been

mostly quiet. Lebanon dislocated a shoulder in
training, but it was a simple fix. In a day or two
it’ll only be a memory.” The gargoyle disappeared
in the back to change, and Tyron got busy running
through inventory. When Cosmo reappeared, he
paused at the door. “Oh, I almost forgot. Maximus
stopped by looking for you.”

That brought Tyron’s head up, his brows

lifting. “Did he say what he needed?”

Charlie Richards

Cosmo shook his head. “No, but I told him

you’d be working in here later.”

“Okay. Thanks. I’ll buzz him.”
Once the other gargoyle had left, Tyron crossed

to a wall panel and held down the button for his
Huzza’s office. “Huzza, this is Tyron. Did you
need me?”

“Ah, Tyron,” he heard Max say through the

intercom. “Yes. Give me fifteen minutes and I’ll
swing by the infirmary.”

Maximus strode through the door twenty

minutes later and dropped into the chair across
from his desk. He grinned. “Been with Santos?”

“How did you…” Tyron rolled his eyes. “Damn

it. You didn’t, did you?”

Max smirked. He leaned across the desk and

inhaled deeply. “It’s faint, but the shower didn’t
get rid of it all.” He pointed. “And it’s probably
because of the marks on your neck.”

Well, shit. He’d kinda forgotten about those. He

ran a hand through his short blond curls. “Ah,
yeah,” he chuckled.

“I really came down here to ask you about your

research last night. Did you find the information
you needed?”

He blushed, remembering what happened

while doing research at the coffee shop. Tyron
nodded. “Yeah. I was only on-line for about fifteen
minutes when Santos showed up. We really need

Binding Santos

to get access out here, by the way,” he added
ruefully.

Maximus grinned. “Someone’s coming out on

Thursday to install it. If you’d been patient, you
wouldn’t have even had to go into town.” Then he
lifted an amused brow. “But then, you probably
would have missed out on the vertical fun.”

Tyron shook his head, fighting back a blush. “I

did find out about The Dispersal from Santos. I
don’t know why it’s called that. It should be called
The Slaughter.”

“What did you find out?” Max asked, leaning

forward and leaning his elbows on the desk.

He quickly relayed what he’d learned about the

McDarmund tribe. “Santos told me he could
introduce me to a psychic who has visions about
the owners of items she touches. If we can get an
artifact, she can point us in the right direction.”

“Uh… most of them were killed over two

hundred years ago. What are we going to do?
Take her to a museum and hope she touches
something relevant?”

“Well,” Tyron said, shifting uncomfortably in

his seat. “Santos said he’d find one for me.”

“Really?” He could hear the surprise in Max’s

voice. “For what price?”

“Uh…” He wasn’t sure he wanted to share that

information.

“What?” Max asked warily.

Charlie Richards

“It was a personal favor,” he murmured,

looking up at his Huzza through his lashes.

Max cocked his head and blinked. “I’m sorry.

Come again?”

Taking a deep breath, he said, “He’s not doing

it for the clan. He’s doing it for me. Or more
specifically, my ass.”

The Huzza’s eyes narrowed. “I know you’re

gay, but even so, you’d better explain that,
Tyron.”

“We set up a second date to fuck when he

brought the artifact.”

He couldn’t stop the blush at the words,

especially when Max growled and rose to his feet.
“Why didn’t you ask me first? Didn’t you think I’d
be open to the idea? You didn’t need to trade your
body, Tyron!” he snarled.

Glaring, Tyron slammed his fist onto his desk.

“It had nothing to do with that,” he snapped,
frustration roiling through him. Shoving to his
feet, he began to pace.

“Then tell me,” Max urged. “You’ve been

distracted for weeks. What’s going on?”

“He’s my mate,” Tyron bellowed. “I realized it

at the BBQ.” He knew he shouldn’t be yelling at
his Huzza, but couldn’t seem to stop himself. All
the anger, frustration, and self-doubt from the last
few weeks just seemed to bubble up and flood his
system. “He kissed me, and all I’ve been able to

Binding Santos

think about is him. He came into the coffee shop.
We went back to his place. Evidently demons
don’t recognize their mates like we do, because he
wouldn’t acknowledge the bond between us.” He
felt tears threaten at the back of his eyelids, but he
blinked them back. Now wasn’t the time.

Max rested a hand on his shoulder and

squeezed. “And you’re sure he’s the one?” he
asked softly.

Tyron nodded. “Yeah. I couldn’t stop myself

from claiming him, but h-he didn’t reciprocate,”
he whispered.

“Damn,” Max whispered. “I’m sorry. Is there

anything I can do to help?”

He shook his head, taking several slow breathes

to pull himself back together. “I’m hoping that
during the time apart, while he’s searching for the
artifact, he’ll come to accept it. If not…” He
shrugged. “I’ve been celibate for years.”

“But the rest of your life?” Max frowned. “It

won’t come to that. We’ll think of something.”

Tyron gave the Huzza a weak smile. “I’d like to

bury myself in paperwork right now… get my
mind off it, ya know?”

Max nodded. “Sure. Let me know if you need

anything.”

Tyron watched Max leave, knowing for once,

his Huzza couldn’t help him with what he needed.

Charlie Richards

Chapter Five

antos’s eyes snapped open. His breath came in
ragged gasps, as he fought back the frustration

and rage filling him. Damn, that must have been
some dream to fill him with such anguish. He
thought of Tyron and reached his arm out, looking
for the gargoyle’s warm body next to him. Santos
wanted to pull him close and take comfort. A
desire he’d never experienced before, but at the
moment he couldn’t find anything wrong with the
idea.

He came up empty.
Frowning, Santos turned his head and saw the

empty mattress next to him. He listened to the
silence of his suite, knowing even as he strained
for some tell-tale sign of Tyron in another room
that the gargoyle was gone. He growled, a fresh
wave of anger filling him. How dare he leave
without waking Santos. Who did Tyron think he
was to treat him as some casual fuck? It didn’t

Binding Santos

matter that he’d done it to hundreds of others over
the course of his two hundred seventy-seven
years. This was different.

The desire to go to Rostrorod and track the

gargoyle down filled him, and he flung off the
blankets. He had his jeans on and was grabbing a
shirt when the note on the other pillow registered.
Dropping the shirt on the bed, he grabbed the
scrap of paper.

Santos – I’m sorry to run out on you this

morning. I’m late for my shift at the infirmary. I’m
a doctor, did I tell you that? Anyway, your
assistance with finding a McDarmund tribe
artifact would be greatly appreciated. And you’re
my mate, so you don’t have to do this to get my
ass. It’s yours anytime. ~ Tyron.

“Fuck!” he yelled. He crumpled the note in his

fist, rested his elbows on his knees, and his head in
his hands. That’s exactly how he’d been about to
treat Tyron. Like a wayward mate. After over two
hundred years had he finally met his bindling? If
so, did he want to be bound to one person?

He’d never thought so before, but just thinking

back on the activities of yesterday and last night
had his dick hardening to the point of pain. Santos
could think of several new positions he wanted to
try with the gargoyle if Tyron had been in his bed

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when he woke this morning. And not only did he
enjoy Tyron’s sexy body, he’d enjoyed conversing
with him over dinner as well. He’d found himself
explaining things about demons he’d never
discussed before, including his work for the
Demon Coalition. Santos still didn’t know why
he’d shared that he worked as a tracker for them,
but he didn’t regret the decision.

Rising from the bed, he slowly pulled the jeans

back off and climbed into the shower. He turned
the water up as high as he could tolerate, and
being a demon, that was saying something. Steam
filled the room in a matter of moments. The heat
soothed his nerves, allowing him to sort through
his jumbled thoughts and emotions.

He didn’t know what to do about Tyron, but he

could come to one conclusion. The gargoyle had
become an obsession. Thinking about the sexy
creature had his flagging erection hardening back
up. Santos wrapped his hand around his
throbbing cock, stroking from root to tip. He
imagined Tyron on his knees in front of him, his
mouth open, eager to take him in. Damn, the
gargoyle gave the best blow jobs. He imagined the
heat from the water was Tyron’s hot mouth, the
pressure from his hand the suction of the
gargoyle’s lips, the pad of his thumb over his slit
the caress of Tyron’s tongue. Seconds later, he
came screaming Tyron’s name.

Binding Santos

He leaned his head against the shower wall, his

body shuddering as he came down from the high
of his orgasm. One thing was certain. He needed
Tyron again, and this time, he wasn’t certain he
could let the little gargoyle go. So, why did that
idea put a smile on his face?

It took over a week for Santos to track down the

information he needed. Armed with the
knowledge of where he could find a McDarmund
artifact, Santos used a lei line to appear near the
gargoyle’s clan home. He was a two minute’s walk
from the massive structure when his phone rang.
He flipped it open and held the device to his ear.
“Santos here.”

“Santos, this is Maximus of Cuchulian.”
“Max!” Santos grinned. “I have something for

you. I’m…”

Surprise shot through him when the gargoyle

Huzza cut him off. “I’m actually looking for
Tyron. Is he with you?”

He paused, staring up at Rostrorod as his brain

processed those words. “No. Why?”

“He didn’t show up for work this morning. I

was hoping he’d spent the night with you again,”
Max said with a sigh.

“Open your door,” Santos growled, making his

request come out a demand.

“What?” Max snapped back.

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Forcing his voice into a more neutral tone, he

replied, “I’m already here. I was bringing
information to you. Please, open the door.”

“I’ll send someone right away.”
Flipping his phone closed, Santos crossed his

arms and waited impatiently. Seconds later, the
door in front of him swung open and Santos
spotted Graden. “Come with me. Max is waiting,”
the large black gargoyle grunted, ushering him
inside the massive building.

Santos followed, his tingling skin telling him

his control over his human form was beginning to
slip. Too much worry and rage filled him. He
wanted to slam Graden into the wall and demand
he tell him what they knew about Tyron, but he
figured that wouldn’t be the best way to gain the
gargoyle’s cooperation. Instead, he followed in
silence.

Graden opened a door and when Santos

walked in, he recognized it as Max’s office. The
gargoyle Huzza turned from the massive, floor to
ceiling, wall to wall fish tank he stared at. He
couldn’t help the surprise flooding him at finding
something that mundane in the gargoyle’s office.

Max must have seen the look, because he

smirked. “Watching them helps me relax.” Santos
just nodded, and Max indicated a seat. “When was
the last time you saw Tyron?”

Santos appreciated the Huzza cutting to the

Binding Santos

chase. “A week and a half ago. We met at a coffee
shop and spent the evening together.”

Max nodded and handed him a piece of paper.

“This appeared on my desk while Graden was
going to get you. I don’t appreciate things just
popping into my home. Why don’t you tell me
what the hell is going on?” he said, his hard tone
revealing his frustration.

Confused, Santos took the offered paper.

~ Huzza Maximus of Cuchulian – We regret to

inform you of an uncleared binding between the
gargoyle Tyron of Cuchulian and the demon
Santos Ry Conica. To facilitate the safety of the
gargoyle while breaking this bond, we are keeping
said gargoyle in Overworld. He will be returned
once the break is complete. ~Braken El Dramen,
Demon Coalition

Santos read the words again, his blood boiling

in his veins. Rising to his feet, he roared, the cry
shaking the glass fish tank. He released his human
form and shifted, his skin thickening and
darkening to a deep red, his eyes glowing like hot
coals, and his horns and claws extending. “They
took him, the bastards,” he growled. Flexing his
back muscles, his wings unfurled. They sliced
through his shirt and snapped to their full twelve
foot wingspan, nearly filling the room.

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“Who?” Maximus asked, now standing as well,

Graden at his shoulder. “And furl the wings
before they destroy something.”

“The Demon Coalition,” Santos snapped before

Max’s second comment registered. “Wings? I…
have wings. Fuck! I am mated!” He looked left and
right, staring at the massive red membranous
wings on either side of him. Slowly, his muscles
uncoordinated from never being used, he
wrapped the large wings around his shoulders
and body, locking the talons halfway across the
tops of the wing-bones under his chin, making it
look as though he wore a cloak. “These will take
some getting used to,” he whispered, disbelief
filling him.

“What are you talking about? Used to what?”

Max asked.

“Demons don’t normally have wings. I’ve

heard rumors that when a powerful demon mates,
they gain wings. Until now, I haven’t heard of it
happening in over a century,” Santos replied,
racking his brain for some other example. He
couldn’t think of any. No wonder the coalition
tracked who mated who. “Wings increase the
demon’s power,” he murmured absently.

“Tyron said you didn’t mate with him,” Max

growled, showing his fangs. “Did you mate with
someone else? Even after he told you he was your
mate?”

Binding Santos

Banking his anger, Santos shook his head. “No.

It doesn’t make sense. I haven’t been with anyone
since Tyron.”

Maximus frowned and whispered, “The love

bites.”

Santos shook his head. “I didn’t bite Tyron.”
“No. The marks you sucked up on Tyron’s

neck. Did you pull any blood through them? They
looked dark enough,” Max pointed out.

The memory of Tyron’s sweet metallic taste

came back to him, making his cock hard.
Groaning, Santos nodded. “Damn it. I guess I got
just enough to start the binding process.”

Max took the now crumpled letter and

frowned. “What’s an uncleared binding?”

“When demons want to bind with someone

other than another demon, they are supposed to
acquire permission from the Demon Coalition.
The coalition say it’s so they can keep track of who
may have inside information on demon’s
abilities.” He shook his head and ran a hand
through his thick black hair. “Personally, I think
it’s a way to keep demons under their thumb and
garner favors to cash in later,” he growled, his
anger renewing.

“And what do they mean by he’ll be returned

once the break is complete?” Graden asked, crossing
his arms over his massive chest.

“They mean to kill me,” Santos replied without

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hesitation. The damn fools. They wouldn’t get him
without a fight.

As if to cement his words, he felt a shiver run

up his spine just before a large demon popped
into the room. “Selvator,” Santos hissed, just as the
demon sent a bolt of energy at him. Santos
instinctively lifted a wing, deflecting the bolt,
absorbing the energy into himself. With a feral
grin, he asked, “Sent you after me, did they?”

The demon Selvator was a tracker, similar to

himself, but often times, due to the gray cast to his
skin, which the coalition deemed as lower
breeding, he got the shitty tasks of killing other
paranormals instead of bringing in demons for
trial. The demon grimaced. “Sorry, old friend, but
I’ve got to follow orders. They want you brought
in, dead or alive.” He shook his head as he eyed
Santos’s wings. “And now I see why. You’ve
become a threat to them.”

“A threat?” he snarled.
Selvator smiled, showing off a fang. Santos saw

his body relax slightly, though he kept his hands
in a defensive posture, ready to raise a shield if
Santos decided to strike at him magically. “You
mated without permission to…” he glanced
around and took in the frowning gargoyles behind
Santos. “A gargoyle. Powerful creatures,
gargoyles. A demon can draw on the power of
their mate in battle. Combine that with the wings

Binding Santos

you now sport, you’ve become a danger to them.”

Growling low in his throat, Santos thought

quickly. If he went with Selvator, the coalition
would kill him. If he didn’t go, he’d have to kill
Selvator, and then the coalition would just send
someone else after him. Neither option appealed
to him. Another thought struck. If they couldn’t
kill him, they may decide to kill Tyron.

Santos groaned in frustration as he turned to

Selvator. He appreciated the demon giving him
the choice, realizing Selvator could have shot that
bolt of energy while still concealed by the powers
of the lei line. The memory of absorbing his shot
with his wing came to mind and ideas filled him.

“I’ll go with you, Selvator, but I’ll not go in

chains.”

A smirk grew over the other demon’s features.

“I thank you for your choice, Santos.” Santos felt
his brows lift at Selvator’s words, and the tracker
chuckled softly. “I wouldn’t have been able to take
you.”

“Then why did you appear? You know you

could have struck first.”

Selvator shrugged. “You didn’t deserve that,

old friend. I don’t give a damn what the coalition
says.”

Santos bowed his head in thanks before turning

to Maximus. “Allow me to make certain no other
creature can just pop in,” he said, lifting his fingers

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in air quotes. After a nod from the Huzza, Santos
flexed his fingers and mentally reached out for the
lei line that Selvator used to enter the gargoyle’s
stronghold. He traveled the line in his mind,
fusing the thread with several other entrances into
Rostrorod. Seconds later, he’d blocked every
entrance from use by any paranormal but himself
and those he’d invited.

He turned to Max. “One way or another, Tyron

will be returned shortly.”

“He won’t want you sacrificing yourself for

him,” Max warned him. “Surely there’s something
we can do to help?” he said, shifting his gaze
briefly to Graden, who nodded his agreement.

Santos smiled, feeling gratitude for the first

time in nearly a century. “I’m honored that’d
you’d wish to assist, but this is demon politics.
There is nothing you can do.”

He watched Max’s jaw tighten before he

nodded curtly. “Once I leave, no one will be able
to enter except me.”

“You’re welcome anytime,” Max murmured.
Santos nodded, crossed to Selvator and settled a

hand on his shoulder. He reached out to the lei
lines around him and took the pair to the demon
realm of Overworld.

Binding Santos

Chapter Six

yron bared his fangs at the demon that opened
the door. They may be holding him in a

comfortable studio style room, complete with a
stocked refrigerator and king size bed, but to him,
it was still a prison.

The demon, the one who’d brought him his last

meal a couple hours ago, hissed back, showing off
a mouth full of razor sharp teeth. “Come on,” he
ordered, motioning him forward.

“Where?” Tyron asked coldly, not moving an

inch toward the demon.

“The coalition has convened. They’ve called for

you.”

He could tell by the contempt dripping from

the demon’s voice, he didn’t like the duty of
fetching Tyron. Glancing out the tiny window at
the red landscape outside, Tyron quickly weighed
his options. He could refuse to go before the
coalition, but then he’d never know why they’d

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kidnapped him and locked him in this room. He
figured it had something to do with his contact
with Santos, but for the life of him, he didn’t know
what was going on. Best to get an explanation, he
decided.

Tyron nodded curtly and moved warily toward

the demon. When the demon held up a pair of
wrist restraints and motioned for Tyron to turn, he
growled, “Not happening.” There was no way in
hell, or in this case, in Overworld, he was turning
his back on this creature.

“Fine,” the red beast snapped.
He led the way out of the room and down the

hall. The gray stone of the hallway had grooves
chiseled into ornate patterns. The gouges were
filled with gold and red metals creating one long
intricate decoration. Tyron had to admit that it
was stunning. Even the stone beneath his claws
had designs carved into them. It was a sharp
contrast to the barren, non-descript room he’d
been held in.

A short walk through twisting corridors and

passed several cross-hallways had Tyron being led
through large wooden doors. He hardly had to
tuck his ten foot wings to get through the opening.
Stepping inside, the cavernous room was easily as
large as four football fields with a sixty foot
ceiling. Dozens of demons sat along the far side
nearly two hundred yards away. More demons

Binding Santos

stood lining the walls. Santos stood in the empty
center next to another demon, this one with a gray
cast to his red skin.

His heart skipped a beat as Santos turned

toward him. The demon’s glittering red eyes
swept over him quickly, as if assessing for
damage. Tyron offered a tight smile, trying to
reassure his mate. He nearly stumbled when he
heard Santos’s voice in his head.

Can you hear me, little one?
He lifted one black brow and gave a tight nod,

veering toward his mate.

Good. Are you well? Have they mistreated you?
At that, he couldn’t stop the small smile,

knowing that Santos at least cared a little. When
the demon he’d followed to the room grabbed his
arm to lead him away from Santos, Tyron swung
to face him and growled. At the same time, he
heard a roar. Looking toward his mate, he
watched what he thought was a cloak lift and
spread to show off twelve foot, red membranous
wings that, except for the color, looked a lot like a
bat’s.

“Come between me and my bindling again and

it will be the last thing you do,” Santos snarled, his
cold, angry words carrying easily through the
room, silencing all other conversation.

Tyron sucked in a surprised breath at Santos’s

words, and by the reaction of most of the demons

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in the room, he wasn’t the only one shocked.
Santos crooked a finger at him. The demon
holding him released his arm and Tyron wasted
no time going to Santos. Even more amazement
flooded him when Santos wrapped Tyron in his
arms and kissed him deeply, almost as if staking a
claim.

When Santos finally released him, Tyron’s

breath came in panting gasps and his cock pressed
painfully against his fly. “What the hell is going
on?” he murmured when he could finally speak.

“The coalition monitors bindings, Tyron,”

Santos replied. “They’re not too happy that we
started the process without permission.”

Tyron felt the color drain from his face. “Oh,

shit. I’m so sorry, Santos. I didn’t know. Will you
be in much trouble because I bit you?”

Santos scraped his clawed forefinger across

Tyron’s cheek, causing a shiver to travel down his
spine and settle in his balls. His cock twitched in
his pants, and Santos smiled, as if knowing the
affect his touch had on him. “I could have stopped
you, love, but it felt far too good. And if you
remember, I marked you as well. I drew just
enough blood from you to start the binding. The
process isn’t complete, and they want it stopped.
They fear the power I’ve gained by mating you.
Gargoyles are powerful creatures, Tyron,” he
murmured, flexing his wings, drawing Tyron’s

Binding Santos

gaze to them.

“How will they stop the process?” he asked,

trying to control his need to explore his mate’s
new appendages. When Santos didn’t answer
right away, his attention snapped to his lover’s
face. “No,” he growled in realization. “I won’t
allow it.”

Santos’s grin turned feral, but before he could

say anything, a deep voice bellowed through the
chamber. “Enough!” All talk ceased. Santos and
Tyron turned toward the large gargoyle, but much
to Tyron’s pleasure, Santos kept a possessive arm
around his waist. “Santos Ry Conica, you’ve been
brought here because you’ve begun the binding
process without the coalition’s permission. As
punishment, your binding must be severed. Either
sacrifice yourself or your bindling. Choose your
fate, demon.”

“No, Coalition Member Braken,” Santos

replied, his voice cold and clear. “The Demon
Coalition’s control over who mates who is an
antiquated and demeaning tradition. The hold you
have over our lives ends now. I challenge the
coalition’s right to choose. I demand a free-vote.”

Silence even more profound than when the

coalition member spoke followed Santos’s
demand. After several long seconds, Braken
snarled, “You know the law. You’d put your life
on the line for this gargoyle?”

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“Yes,” Santos responded firmly.
“So be it,” came the disdainful reply.
“What’s going on?” Tyron whispered as he

watched the demons at the far end file out of their
chairs and form two lines across the massive hall.

“If a demon feels his belief is stronger than the

strength of the coalition, he can demand a free-
vote. He walks a gauntlet. If he survives, his belief
is the new law.”

“If he survives,” Tyron murmured, watching

the coalition members get into position. “A
gauntlet? You mean each member will have the
opportunity to strike you any way they want and
you can’t defend yourself?”

Santos wrapped his arms around Tyron,

pulling him close. “You are my defense, Tyron.
You gave me wings. They allow me to absorb
blows more easily. Plus a demon draws on the
strength of his mate,” he whispered. “Even though
we haven’t completed the mating, we are still
linked. My only concern is that you may feel some
of the pain. If it gets to be too much for you, please
close the link in your mind. I don’t wish any harm
to come to you.”

Growling softly, Tyron shook his head. “Not

going to happen. Finish the bond, so I can help
you fully,” he demanded. When Santos just stared
at him, he lifted his wrist and used his fangs to
tear it open. He held the bleeding limb up to

Binding Santos

Santos’s face. “Take it.”

Santos grimaced, and for several heartbeats,

Tyron thought he’d refuse. A soft smile curved the
demon’s hard features. “It’s not the way I would
have wanted to complete our coupling, but we’ll
do it right later,” he promised before latching onto
Tyron’s wrist, sucking several large swallows of
blood into his mouth.

Santos’s moan and the feel of his lips on his

wrist sent a fresh wave of lust though Tyron’s
body. He had to concentrate hard not to come in
his jeans. He felt the faint mental link Santos had
used to talk to him earlier snap into place.
Delicious, Santos whispered in his mind. His mate
swiped his tongue over the gash, licking up a few
last drops before removing his shirt and wrapping
it around Tyron’s wrist. He smiled. “I can’t wear it
anyway.”

Tyron grabbed Santos neck and pulled his head

down for a quick kiss. “I’ll be here to patch you up
when they’re done, but don’t think I’ll ever stand
by for this behavior again. Do you hear me?”

His mate’s eyes glowed with amusement and

affection. “Yes, my bindling.” His whispered
words sent another wave of warmth through
Tyron, this time of happiness. Now if he could just
get Santos home safe, everything would be
perfect.

Tyron watched Santos stalk toward the gauntlet

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of demons. How many demons are in the coalition?
Have you ever seen anyone complete this? Tyron
spoke to his mate through their mental link, trying
to hide the worry he felt.

There are thirty demons in the coalition. The free-

vote right hasn’t been invoked in nearly a century. I
wasn’t in court at the time.

Did he complete it?
No, little one. He didn’t. And then the first two

demons attacked, the one on the right slamming
his fist into Santos’s sternum right before the one
on the left shot a bolt of energy at his demon’s
face. The pain swamped Tyron through the mental
link, taking his breath away. Seconds later, more
pain hit him, and he realized Santos had stepped
forward and took on the next pair of strikes.

The fourth pair both shot bolts of electricity at

Santos, making the demon wrap his arms and
wings around himself in agony. By the eighth pair,
that’s what each demon was doing, and from the
residual pain Santos allowed to filter through to
Tyron, the demons were getting more powerful
near the end.

He wracked his mind for a way to help his

mate, and a slim idea formed. Tyron lowered
himself to the floor and knelt on the carved
flagstones. Pulling into himself, he searched for
that place of peace he retreated to when he
meditated. Tyron finally found it when he felt

Binding Santos

Santos stagger at the tenth pair. Taking a deep
breath, he opened himself fully to Santos, pushing
past the block the demon put up to protect him.
He felt the next hits to his mate’s body fully, and
mental pain swept over him. Through it, he forced
his breathing to remain slow and even as he
sucked the pain out of Santos’s body into his own,
flooding his mate with relief.

“Tyron, are you still with me?”
Yes, Santos, he replied as the pain began to

slowly ebb. Suddenly, Tyron felt hands under his
arms, and he realized Santos helped him to his
feet. He tilted his head back and grinned at Santos.
“Oh. You said that out loud.”

“Yes, little one. I did.” He chuckled and kissed

Tyron quickly before whispering, “I couldn’t have
done it without you.” Santos turned to look at the
shocked and disgruntled demons making up the
coalition. “Demons choose their own bindlings,”
he stated flatly. “No permission needed.”

Member Braken nodded, his eyes blazing with

anger and something else. Respect. “As you say,
Santos Ry Conica. Permission is no longer needed
by the Demon Coalition for a demon to choose
their bindling.”

Santos nodded once before turning Tyron

toward the door and heading that way. “Hey,
Santos.” Tyron heard the demon that’d stood by
Santos when he’d entered call after them.

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Santos turned and lifted a brow. “Selvator?”
The other demon grinned. “Since you’ll

probably want to work less so you can spend
more time with your bindling, think you could use
a hand at your detective agency?”

“A well-trained tracker is always welcome,

Selvator. How about you meet me at the office
Monday morning at ten?”

Selvator nodded. “Thank you, old friend.”
Santos nodded before resuming his walk

toward the exit, drawing Tyron with him. “Let’s
get out of here. We have some things to discuss, I
think.”

Binding Santos

Chapter Seven

is wings wrapped around his bindling, Santos
took them to the clearing near Rostrorod. Tyron

looked around with interest, taking in the warm
sun beating down on them. Santos furled his
wings, grabbed Tyron’s hand, and led the way
through the trees. “Once I figure out the lei line
closest to our quarters or the infirmary, I’ll use
that one instead. Until then, this one will have to
do. It’s only a short walk to Rostrorod.”

“Our

quarters…”

Tyron

murmured

questioningly, his eyes searching Santos’s grin.

It occurred to Santos that he may be jumping

the gun. He paused, pulling his bindling into his
arms. His bindling. Damn, he loved how that
sounded. “I guess I just assumed I’d move in with
you. Now that we’re bound, I don’t want to live
away from you.” He cocked his head, trying to
read Tyron’s expression. “If you’d prefer, we
could live at my condo, but since you’re the clan

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doctor, I figured you’d want to remain close to
your infirmary.”

He waited for the gargoyle to say something,

but Tyron just continued to stare. Santos slowly
loosened his arms. “Or if you need more time,
we’ll keep our separate places,” he murmured,
feeling foolish for making assumptions.

Tyron smiled slightly. He wrapped his arms

around Santos’s neck and pulled his head down.
When Tyron pressed his lips against his own,
Santos groaned softly before tightening his arms
again, pulling the smaller man’s body flush to his
own. His cock filled as he plundered Tyron’s
mouth, tasting his bindling’s essence, so sweet, so
rich.

When he released Tyron’s lips, they both

gasped for breath. He smiled down at Tyron.
“What was that for?”

“For your willingness to give up that awesome

condo to live with my clan,” Tyron gasped out.

“I’m not doing it for your clan, little one,” he

said. “I’m doing it for you. I figure if we’re at your
place, you can’t ditch me in the morning.” His
tone was teasing, but he knew he couldn’t hide the
hurt through the connection they now shared.

“I’m sorry,” Tyron whispered. “I didn’t think

you were interested in more than a one night
stand, and I couldn’t face you asking me to leave,”
he admitted, dropping his head.

Binding Santos

Santos cupped Tyron’s cheek in one hand and

tilted his face up, forcing him to meet his gaze.
“When I woke without you there, I just about
came after you then and there. I was half dressed
before I realized I was about to treat you like a
wayward mate. I knew I needed to do some
serious thinking before approaching you again.
Stringing you along in any way wouldn’t have
been fair, and I knew it.” He brushed several light
kisses over Tyron’s lips, taking in his surprised
expression. “It didn’t take me long to realize I
wouldn’t be able to let you go once I had you
again.” He smiled. “And not having you again
wasn’t an option. I’ll never get enough of you,
Tyron of Cuchulian. You are my bindling. The
other half of my soul.”

When he saw Tyron’s smile, he couldn’t stop

himself from dipping his head and claiming
Tyron’s lips. He lifted the smaller man into his
arms, pleased when Tyron wrapped his legs
around his waist, bringing their bodies flush
together. Stepping forward, Santos pinned his
mate against a tree, grinding his erection into
Tyron’s equally hard shaft.

“Santos!” Tyron hissed, his head falling back

against the trunk. He moaned, rolling his hips
forward.

“I’m going to strip you down, my sexy

bindling. I’m going to pin you to this tree and take

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you right here in the woods where anyone can see.
You are mine now, Tyron,” Santos growled.

“As you are mine, Santos. If anyone else lays a

hand on you, I will kill them,” he promised,
growling low in his throat.

The man’s possessive words burned through

Santos, making him even hotter. “Yesss,” he
hissed before claiming Tyron’s mouth in a heated
kiss. He brought his claws to Tyron’s waist,
intending to shred the man’s jeans, but Tyron
stayed his hands.

“Ah, ah. I need those,” he teased.
“Then you’d best get them off,” Santos

growled. He unbuttoned his pants, letting them
slide down his hips as he pulled out his twitching
cock and slowly stroked it. He watched as Tyron
leered at his swollen dick. The gargoyle slid his
hands down his chest, taking a second to tweak
his own nipples through his shirt before grabbing
the hem and pulling it over his head. Immediately
Tyron’s green wings curved upward behind him.
Growling low in his throat, Santos’s own red
wings spread behind him, sending swirls of wind
around the pair, echoing their desire.

He wrapped his fist tighter around his cock as

he watched Tyron shimmy out of his jeans. He
nearly swallowed his tongue when the gargoyle
sucked three fingers into his mouth before turning
around, leaning one hand up against a tree, and

Binding Santos

shoving two of the now wet fingers into his ass.
Mesmerized, he watched as Tyron pumped them
in and out, his body rocking as he fucked himself
on his fingers.

When Tyron shoved in a third finger, Santos

growled and lunged forward. He wrapped his
claws around the gargoyle’s wrist, pulling the
fingers free. Lining up his cock, he shoved into the
smaller man, not stopping until he bottomed out
and his balls slapped against Tyron’s ass. “Mine,”
he snarled into his bindling’s ear. “My ass!” A
possessiveness he’d never felt before swept over
him. His teeth shifted fully, something he almost
never allowed to happen, and he showed off a
mouthful of sharp teeth.

Tyron’s eyes widened as he stared over his

shoulder at him. For a second, Santos thought he’d
scared his mate. Then Tyron groaned and shoved
his ass against him. “Claim me,” he whispered.
“Tear into me with that sexy grin.”

A shudder of excitement racked his body at

Tyron’s words. Fuck, if Tyron’s mewling,
vibrating body was any sign, his bindling was
turned on by the idea of his teeth slicing into his
shoulder. A growl escaping him, Santos gave them
both what they wanted as his hips began to thrust
in and out of Tyron’s tight, hot sheath. He gripped
his bindling where the shoulder met the neck and
bit hard. Blood gushed over his tongue, and he

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moaned at the exquisite taste of his mate. Fuck, the
small sips he’d enjoyed while in the Overworld
didn’t do Tyron justice.

Tyron screamed, but it wasn’t in pain. His cry

of pleasure echoed between the trees as the sun
warmed their skin. His gargoyle’s ass clenched as
his release shot from him, painting the bark of the
tree in pearly essence. Tyron’s muscles locked
around Santos’s cock, sucking the orgasm out of
him. The demon released the gargoyle’s flesh,
blood dripping from his teeth. He threw his head
back and roared his release. “Mine,” he growled
repeatedly, his body still shuddering from
aftershocks from the most intense orgasm of his
life.

“Yours,” Tyron murmured, leaning back

against Santos’s still shivering body.

Still connected, Santos dipped his head and

licked at the wound he’d torn into Tyron’s
shoulder. Yeah, he’d bit him a little hard, but fuck
his mate was sexy. He couldn’t stop himself.
Gently he suckled the flesh, healing it with his
saliva as only a mate could, leaving a large pink
scar.

Santos sighed, looking over the mark he’d left

on his mate. Smiling at the proof that Tyron was
now his, he finally let his softening cock slide out
of his bindling. Both of them groaned at the
sensation. “Soon. I’ll have you again soon,” Santos

Binding Santos

promised.

Tyron grinned before bending to retrieve his

pants. “I’m going to hold you to that,” he quipped.

Growling teasingly, Santos put his pants to

rights before grabbing his bindling and latching
onto his lips. When he released Tyron, Santos
smiled at his mate’s shining eyes. “Any time, love.
Any time.”

Before he could start anything else, Tyron eased

away from him and grimaced. “I could really use
a shower and a change of clothes. And I really
need to check in with my Huzza.”

Santos smiled and nodded. “A bed would be

preferable,” he teased. Gripping Tyron’s hand
tightly, he began to jog through the forest. “Come
on, sexy. Let’s go find one.” Winking over his
shoulder, he pulled Tyron behind him. “I’ve got
ideas for what to do in that shower!”

They reached Rostrorod, and Santos pounded

on the door, since Tyron didn’t have keys on him
when he’d been kidnapped. The door swung
open, revealing a gargoyle Santos didn’t
recognize.

“Tyron,” the large man shouted. “Are you

okay?” he asked, pulling Tyron into a hug.

Santos growled low in his throat, not pleased to

see his bindling in another man’s arms. Tyron
extricated himself from the other gargoyle, patting
his arm. “Yes, Cliff, I’m fine. Santos saved me.”

Charlie Richards

When Tyron turned and smiled at him, the love

the gargoyle felt for Santos showed clearly in his
eyes. Santos’s growl turned to a purr as he pulled
him close and kissed him. “And you saved me,”
he whispered the words for Tyron’s ears alone.
Gratefulness to the Fates for seeing fit to give him
Tyron filled Santos.

After one more not-so-chaste kiss, he looked at

the gargoyles standing around them. Most had
expressions of surprise or amusement on their
faces. “We need to speak with Maximus as soon as
possible.”

“I’m here, Santos,” Max said, threading his way

through the parting gargoyles. He held out a hand
and pulled Tyron into a one armed hug before
quickly releasing him. “Welcome home, Tyron. It’s
good to see you safe.”

“Thank you, Huzza,” Tyron said, ducking his

head in submission.

Max chuckled. “Relax.” He turned his piercing

blue eyes on Santos, taking in his shirtless form
and bruising ribs. He smirked. “Well, since you’re
alive, I’m assuming you came to some
arrangement with the coalition?”

Santos smirked, nodding. “Yup. Thanks to my

exceptionally strong-minded mate, I was able to
get the permission requirement for claiming a
bindling revoked. Any demon can now bind with
whoever they want. It should make for an

Binding Santos

interesting couple of years for the coalition.” He
smirked, loving the idea of causing the controlling
bastards trouble.

Max chuckled. “Glad to hear it.”
“We have more to discuss,” Santos said softly,

his gaze roving over the men still looking on with
interest. “Things of a more intimate nature.”

“Ah. Of course,” Max said. He started leading

the way down the hall before glancing over his
shoulder and winking. “Congratulations, by the
way. Did you have to bite him so hard?”

Santos grinned. Allowing his jaw to shift to its

natural form, he showed off a mouthful of very
pointed teeth. “Tyron didn’t complain,” he
purred, the arm wrapped around his bindling
tightening.

Max laughed at Tyron’s blush and opened the

door to his study. “I’m sure he didn’t.”

Serena followed him into the room and crossed

to the sideboard. “Do you want anything?” the
female gargoyle asked.

“Tequila,” Santos replied, eyeing Max’s sister.

He’d heard that female gargoyles were so rare that
they had two mates instead of one. He’d have to
ask Tyron about that some time. Turning to look
at Tyron, he asked, “What about you, little one?
Do you want anything?”

“What time is it?” he asked.
“Almost two in the afternoon, Tyron,” Max said

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gently. “Don’t worry. Your shift at the infirmary is
covered until tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” Tyron murmured. He looked at

Serena and shrugged. “Got any Caribbean rum
over there?”

She laughed lightly. “Of course. My brother

keeps just about everything back here.” Winking,
she pulled a couple bottles and tumblers from
different cupboards behind the bar.

After settling with their drinks, Max leaned

forward. “Now what’s this about, Santos?”

“Did Tyron tell you I’ve been looking for a relic

from the McDarmund tribe?” After Max and
Serena nodded, he grinned smugly. “Well, I’ve
found one. And it’s right here in Rostrorod!”

About the Author

Charlie lives on a mini ranchette in Utah with her
handsome, supportive husband. She started
writing fantasy when she was eight, and after
stumbling onto her first erotic romance at
nineteen, she realized her true calling. She now
focuses on writing erotic romance, often of the
paranormal variety, with heroes and heroines of
all kinds. You can often find her curled up with
her laptop and a cup of tea or glass of wine,
creating her next story, which could pair a sexy
hero with an adventurous heroine… or maybe
with another handsome hero. Charlie enjoys
horseback riding, jump lessons with Apache,
watching movies with her husband, and listening
to her muse tell her about her next project.

She

can

reached

ch.richards2010@yahoo.com

Or at www.charlie-richards.com

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