Gargoyle Reaper: An MM Mpreg Monster Romance by M.M. Wilde

Author:M.M. Wilde [Wilde, M.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Knight Ever After Publishing LLC
Published: 2025-01-17T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

Archer pressed his lips in a grim line as he adjusted the angle of the lamp, casting a focused beam onto Cassiel's injured side. He’d already swabbed the puncture wound with antiseptic and was readying to stitch her up. She watched him work with interest, and once again, Archer marveled how all the Slayers took their pain and suffering in stride, their main concern being to eradicate evil and protect humanity - not protect themselves.

He brushed the thought aside to focus on Cassiel’s injury. Another time, he could ruminate on his shame at how selfish he'd been his whole life.

“Man,” she said, furrowing her brow. “That rebar in the alley got me good.” She chuckled. “Good thing it wasn’t Raziel’s claw. Shit’s got hellfire poison. I would’ve needed Ezekiel’s light or probably wouldn’t make it.” She jerked her head to the threshold of the room. “And he’s got his hands full with Darius.”

Archer remained focused on his task, but he had so many questions. Without looking up, he said, “Thanks for protecting us today.”

“Don’t get all teary-eyed, sweetheart. Our main concern was the relic.”

Despite their dire circumstances, the corner of his mouth tugged into a half-smile. “Fair enough. But you guys did an incredible job.”

“Ppph. You should see a full-on air-battle. Those are pretty sweet.”

Archer shook his head with a chuckle. He was immersed in a bizarre and remarkable world that he still wasn’t a hundred percent sure was real, yet he’d never felt so alive, so thrilled to be a part of something.

And maybe…

He gave himself a mental shake. Any thoughts of Ezekiel were dangerously distracting. He was still fighting the urge to jump the guy.

Cassiel flinched “Fuck! Easy there, Archer.”

“Sorry,” Archer said, unsure if he was apologizing for the pain or being so mentally absent when Cassiel needed him present.

“Hey, you're doing great. I've had worse scrapes from shaving my legs.” she joked, though the pallor of her skin suggested otherwise.

As he reached for another gauze pad, one of the other Slayers resting nearby let out a long groan as if he’d been holding it in for as long as he could, but the agony was too much. Next to him, a fellow Slayer had seemingly fallen unconscious. Archer couldn’t be sure, though. He didn’t dare leave Cassiel until he’d stitched her up.

The anxiety from having to handle all the gravely wounded gargoyles without so much as a nurse assisting was beginning to get to him. How did Ezekiel handle this by himself? What if Ezekiel hadn’t found him that morning, hadn’t brought him to the lair? Would all but one or two of the Slayers have died because Ezekiel didn’t have help?

He sucked in a sharp breath. The concept of fate was beginning to carry the ring of truth.

The frustration that had been simmering within him bubbled over and before he could form another thought, a light emanated from his palms, soft and warm, like the first rays of dawn. It wrapped around the wound, seeping into the torn flesh.

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