Stone Society Read online

  All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark owners of the wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction.

  Copyright © 2022 by Faith Gibson

  Published by: Bramblerose Press LLC

  Editor: Candice Royer, KDL Editing

  First edition: February 2022

  Cover design: Jay Aheer, ©Simply Defined Art

  Cover photography: ©FuriousFotog®

  Cover model: Zach Fox

  ISBN: 979-8201911270

  Dedication

  This one’s for Katie. Thank you for making me smile every single day.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Epilogue

  A Note from the Author

  About the Author

  Other Works by Faith Gibson

  Prologue

  March 1946

  This was not the future Jordana envisioned for herself. As she stood next to one of the ornate stained-glass windows of the Theatro Municipal de São Paulo, the photographer told her to smile. Jordana did her best, but how could she smile when her heart was breaking? The building she was in was a breathtaking structure. Jordana had roamed its many halls and rooms with her mama, a famous opera singer. Jordana had once loved the architecture. The ambiance. It was cruel, in her opinion, her parents choosing this place out of all the buildings in São Paulo for this occasion. What was even more cruel was the reason for her being there today.

  “Jordana,” the photographer chastised. Again. “This is supposed to be the happiest day of your life.”

  “Supposed to be, yes.” But it wasn’t. The man behind the camera didn’t know the truth. Didn’t know she was getting married to the wrong brother. She shouldn’t be getting married at all. She didn’t need the ceremony to make a commitment. She was a Gargoyle after all, and as such, an extravagant ceremony was nothing more than a human construct. If she were marrying the one the fates had chosen for her, Jordana would be beaming. The photographer would probably tell her to tone down her smile. But her papa didn’t care about the fates. Didn’t care that the one they chose for Jordana had only transitioned a few years before. Jordana was willing to wait on her mate to age. To come into his own Gargoyle.

  It wasn’t to be.

  When she found out what her father had done – made a bargain with the King to give Jordana to his oldest son – she had yelled. Cried. Rebelled. She even tried to run away. But both the King and her papa were powerful males with eyes all around the city. When returned to her home, her papa let her know what would happen to her mate should she refuse to go through with the marriage. Neither he nor the King cared that she was fated to be with Lorenzo. They only cared that she was the last of her kind in all of South America – an unmated female Gargoyle. Her marriage to Leonardo was to ensure the Santos bloodline continued. Jordana argued that would happen if she mated with Lorenzo, but he wasn’t the eldest brother. He wasn’t the one destined to be King.

  Heavy footsteps had Jordana turning away from the camera.

  “It is time, minha filha.” The male’s voice grated where it once had filled her with love. She would never forgive the one she once called papa. Pedro Callas was an imposing male as were most Gargoyles. He gripped her elbow and led her away from the photographer. Led her to the front of the building where he would escort her to the stage for hundreds to witness the union of Jordana Callas to Leonardo Santos. Jordana’s claws ached to extend from her fingertips. Threatened to shred the expensive dress. Or Pedro’s face. Not that it would do any good. He would heal almost immediately. No, lashing out at the male would only result in something bad happening to Lorenzo.

  In that moment, Jordana remembered bright, blue eyes filled with tears as she told Lorenzo she was to marry his brother. Lorenzo’s heartbreak at the news ached in her own chest. By Gargoyle standards, he was still a boy, but to her, Lorenzo was everything. The one she was supposed to be with. To grow old with. To see the world as it changed over the many years they would be together. The anguish and betrayal on his beautiful face had gutted her, and Jordana hadn’t smiled since. She had no reason to. Knowing she would live as his brother’s wife in the same house was the cruelest of jokes.

  Jordana’s beast reached out, searching for the one heartbeat she knew as well as her own, but it wasn’t to be felt. Lorenzo wasn’t in the building. She couldn’t blame him. She would have escaped this charade, too, if it were possible. The wedding went by in a blur. The reception was a spectacle. One in which she was an unwilling participant. She didn’t eat the exquisite meal set before her. She only danced with Leonardo when her father made threats against her mate in her ear. Jordana wordlessly, with a fake smile, went through the motions until she and Leonardo were escorted to the car that would drive them to the coast for their honeymoon.

  Once inside their hotel room, Leonardo closed the door after thanking the bellhop and began removing his tuxedo. He had tried engaging her in conversation during the ride, but Jordana sat as far away as possible in the enclosed vehicle, staring out the window.

  “Jordana, it is done. I know I’m not your choice, but what were we to do? I am the King’s son. His heir. His word is law,” Leo pled in Portuguese. “Give me a son, then I will release you from our vows to be with Lorenzo.”

  Jordana rounded on the male, pointing a sharp claw at the face that looked so much like her mate’s. “You try that, and I’ll cut your dick off.”

  Leo sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face. He could overpower her. She knew that. He knew that. Thankfully, Leonardo was a somewhat honorable male, unwanted marriage notwithstanding. He had tried reasoning with her when their fathers first told them they were to be married. Both males knew Leo wasn’t Jordana’s mate, but neither one cared. Jordana didn’t know what it was like to be the heir to the throne. Leo tried to explain how it was his responsibility to the Santos family to continue the bloodline. He apologized, begged, promised she would have a good life as future Queen.

  Leonardo wasn’t a bad male. If the fates had chosen him as her mate, she would gladly have accepted the bond. But he wasn’t. Lorenzo was, and as long as Jordana and Lor were apart, she would never be whole. Happy.

  “Jordana, please—”

  “No. I will kill myself before I let someone other than my mate touch me. I’m going to get out of this stupid dress and order room service. You should go down to the bar and find a pretty human if you feel the need to...” Jordana waved her hand in the air. “I’m not joking. You will never touch me.”

  Leo sighed again and nodded. He opened his suitcase and pulled out a change of clothes, taking them into the bathroom. When he emerged, he grabbed the room key and left her alon
e. Jordana didn’t waste any time shredding her wedding gown instead of attempting to unbutton the dozens of tiny pearl dots on the back of the dress. She retrieved her own clothes from her suitcase and changed into something comfortable before ordering several items from room service. Since she’d refused to eat at the reception, she was starving.

  The week went by at a snail’s pace. Jordana refused to leave the room, and Leo gave her space. He tried more than once to talk her into being civil. He begged her to at least leave the room and go with him to the beach. Jordana loved the beach. Always had. But she wasn’t about to enjoy the surf with the wrong brother.

  When their honeymoon was over, they drove back to the grand house she was to share with her new husband, his parents, and the mate she couldn’t have. Jordana’s heart was caught in her throat as Leonardo escorted her inside. She reached out with her senses to find her mate, but he wasn’t there. The mood in the house was tense, and it didn’t take long to find out the reason.

  Lorenzo was gone.

  Chapter One

  March 2049

  Rafael took Sebastian’s diaper bag out to their new crossover SUV. He had left it parked in front of the garage after taking Priscilla to Frey’s earlier so she could help set up Amelia’s birthday party. Their Clan was doing its best to lead normal lives while constantly looking over their shoulders. It was a shitty way to go about their days, but they had no choice. He loathed leaving Kaya and Bas home without him, but Mason and Willow came by to stay with them in his short absence. He shut the back car door just as birds scattered in the trees. Rafe opened his senses, and his beast bristled.

  There’s someone out there.

  Rafael turned toward the woods to the east when the sound of a rifle slide met his ears. Rafael ran that direction, and a shot rang out, the bullet hitting him square in the chest. It was powerful enough to rock him backward a step but not enough to stop him. He continued on, catching sight of the human who was now scrambling to get away. Not happening, you fucker. Rafe easily caught the man and slammed him to the ground. Rafael turned him to his back and punched him in the side of the head, rendering him unconscious. As mad as he was, Rafe needed answers, and dead men could tell no tales as the saying went. Not only that, Kaya was yelling for him from the house.

  He called out to Mason so the male could tell Kaya he was fine while dragging the shooter closer to the manor. Rafael rushed to the garage and found a long drop cord, which he used to tie the man to a tree for retrieval later. All the while, he kept his senses open to any other threats, but there was no one else around to attack him or his family. Not taking any chances, Rafael grabbed the man’s rifle and used his shifter strength to destroy it. He tossed the pieces into a box in the garage before going into the house. Once inside, he dragged Kaya and Bas into his arms, thanking the gods they both were safe.

  “Was that a gunshot?” Kaya asked against his chest.

  “Yes.” Rafael released them, then pressed his palms to Kaya’s face and kissed her forehead.

  “Is it ever going to stop?” Kaya whispered.

  “Gods, I hope so. Whoever that is, whoever sent him, obviously doesn’t know I’m a Goyle, or they’d know a bullet wouldn’t stop me. That gives us an advantage. But it does mean we need to be extra vigilant. Bullets won’t hurt me, but you and Bas are a different story, and I won’t let anything happen to either of you. After Amelia’s party, I think we should all go away for a while. Somewhere nobody knows who we are.”

  Kaya took a step back, bouncing their whimpering son on her hip. Sebastian was in tune with their moods, and the child could no doubt feel the distress coming from both parents. “Rafe, we just got back home.” Rafael hated the tremor in Kaya’s voice. His mate had been through so much. Too much. She was the strongest female he knew, and he loved her more than life itself.

  “What would you have me do?”

  Mason took Willow’s hand. “We’ll meet up with you at Frey’s.”

  “Thank you, Mason.”

  When the couple was gone, Kaya answered Rafe’s question. “Trust the Clan to guard us. I love you; you know that. And I trust you to make the right decision for us, but please think about it.”

  Rafael wrapped his arms around his little family and pressed a kiss to Kaya’s temple. Just then, Sebastian grunted, and the smell of a messy diaper met Rafe’s nose. He couldn’t help but groan. “I guess that’s our little man’s way of letting me know how he feels. Give him here, and I’ll change him.”

  “I think you need to change us both.” Kaya laughed, and when Rafael took a step back, he had to laugh too. Kaya’s hand that had been holding Sebastian’s bottom was brownish green. The runny poop had leaked out of the diaper.

  “No more peas for you,” Rafael told his son as he took him to the bathroom. They had introduced the baby to puréed food and were finding what he could and couldn’t tolerate. Rafael loved bath time, but they were already running late for Amelia’s birthday party, so Rafe quickly cleaned his son up and got him into a fresh diaper and clothes. His worry about the shooter hovered at the back of his mind, but he wouldn’t make a rash decision about whisking his family away until he spoke to Frey. He didn’t want to leave so soon after returning from Italy, nor did he want to ask Frey to once again step in to lead the Clan, but if that’s what it took to keep his family safe, he would.

  Gregor placed Amelia’s presents in the back of the Hummer and closed the door. Tessa had gone overboard with gifts for their niece, but Gregor didn’t say anything. He enjoyed watching his mate with the kids and knew she was going to make a wonderful mother someday. He also knew she was worried she hadn’t gotten pregnant yet, but he kept telling her it would happen when it was supposed to. Until then, they would keep practicing. And practice they did. Tessa was a feisty female, and that translated into the best sex of his life. His fiery redhead had a kinky side, and Gregor was one lucky male.

  Once seated in the vehicle, Gregor rolled down the driveway while Tessa found a song she wanted to listen to. His mate preferred classic rock, but she had branched out lately and was flipping through the satellite channels until she landed on one of the newer, hard rock stations. He slowed as he reached the gate, waiting on the iron barrier to open. Tessa leaned over and kissed him. Just as she returned to her side of the vehicle, the windshield shattered.

  “Mother fucker!” she yelled, punching the dash.

  Gregor threw the vehicle in park. “Tessa!” He pushed his mate’s head down as far as it would go with the seatbelt holding her in place.

  “I’m okay. What the fuck, Stone?”

  “Wait here, and stay down.” Gregor didn’t wait to see if she followed his order. He pushed open the door and opened his senses. As soon as he got a lock on the shooter, Gregor took off through the trees. A large man wearing camouflage with a rifle strapped to his back was running through the woods toward the road. Being a Gargoyle, Gregor easily caught him. He didn’t bother asking questions. Gregor twisted the man’s head, snapping his neck. His beast fought to get loose, wanting to rip the human to shreds. Gregor felt the same way. The shot had been too fucking close. Gregor took a deep breath, and his beast retreated somewhat. Tessa was safe. For now. He jogged back to the Hummer, reaching out to make sure the human was alone. He didn’t sense anyone else out there.

  He slowed his steps as he neared his Hummer. When he saw where the bullet entered, Gregor threw his head back and roared. One second sooner and... Tessa’s head popped up, and she scrambled to undo the restraint so she could get out of the vehicle. She threw herself into his arms, and he held his mate tight.

  “I hope you ripped their fucking head off,” she muttered against his neck.

  “Close. He won’t be shooting at anyone else.” Gregor put Tessa on her feet so he could check her injuries. The glass had hit her gorgeous face, but the cuts weren’t deep. Thank the gods she was a half-blood.

  “I’m fine, Stone, but what the fuck?” she asked again.

  “I probably
should have questioned him first, but knowing how close... I didn’t think. Couldn’t think.” Gregor placed his hands on her face, softly brushing the scrapes that were already healing.

  Tessa grasped both his wrists and held on. Her heart was still beating too quickly from the adrenaline, and her face was fierce. “No judgment here, baby. I can heal from a few cuts, but a high-powered bullet? Yeah, there’s no coming back from that. What are you going to do with the body?”

  “I’ll put him in the garage until after the party. He’s not going anywhere.”

  “We need to take my car. I don’t think showing up to a kid’s party with a shattered windshield is a good idea.”

  Gregor agreed, but before he let Tessa back in the car, he kissed her. Hard. She was the most precious thing in the world to him. He poured his love into the kiss, and she met him with equal fervor. When they pulled apart, Tessa winked at him. “Enough of that shit. We’re already late, and you know what your mouth does to me.” His mate slapped him on the ass before climbing back into the passenger seat. Gods, he adored his female.

  While Tessa transferred the presents from the Hummer to her SUV, Gregor retrieved the shooter’s body along with his rifle and stored both in the garage. Forty-five minutes later, they were on their way to Frey’s.

  The house was too quiet without Connor there. Not that his son was loud, but the boy’s presence was larger than life, even if he was in his room drawing or reading. After Connor’s last vision, Dante called Julian and had him install motion detectors all around their property. Dante had a feeling the vision would come to pass sooner rather than later, so he had taken Connor to stay with Frey and Abbi. Connor loved spending time with Amelia, but the child was also smart enough to realize why Dante wanted him out of the house. When Dante dropped him off a few days ago, Connor pressed his forehead to Dante’s.

  Be safe, Da, he said in his mind.

  Always, My Son, Dante replied in kind. Frey had arched an eyebrow at the exchange but didn’t say anything. Their Clan was used to the silent conversations between father and son.