A sheltered female. A stone Gargoyle. Generations of mistrust...

Lily
Humans are meant to fear gargoyles, not fantasize about them. But when you’re suffocating from loneliness and can’t remember what men you aren’t related to look like, beggars can’t be choosers. So I sit at huge his stone feet and tell him my secrets, unload my frustrations and share my wildest fantasies, wishing my Gargoyle was alive to hear them.
When my tiny world shatters and he wakes to save me, I refuse to let my chance with him slip by. But can I trust him enough, to leave my life of seclusion behind?

Reiver
The last thing I remember is fleeing a dying planet, ravaged by war. But the moment I wake, finding a bruised and bloodied female at my feet and my body still not fully healed, my heart’s song is clear why. Mate.

But I’ve slept through hundreds of her human years, and her stories of devastation and hatred between our kinds rattle me. Can I convince her humans have it wrong? That the real monsters are her own males, not us? Because my heart’s song is calling me back to my brothers, to a place I know in my gut she’ll be happy and safe.
Will she believe the stories of her parents and ancestors, over the male who’d die to protect her?

Because not all monsters are made of stone, and not all humans are as good as they seem…

We call the stone monsters whose arrival decimated Earth Gargoyles. They're huge, winged, and turn to stone when they die. Generations have passed, humanities numbers are few, and men rule us with an iron fist. Our roles are clear - men stop the gargoyles from stealing us, women serve them in gratitude, and do our best to repopulate earth so we can reclaim it. 

What will happen when we finally realise not all monsters are made of stone, and not all humans are as good as they seem...