He held the pieces of the broken statue in his hands, the tears pouring down his cheeks. His clan looked on, sharing the misery of a great loss. He remembered...
Puck bonded her soul to Demona's body after said bitch had shot her with a laser. At first she had been horrified, but no longer. Brooklyn had a crush on her from the beginning. He had always found Demona attractive, and the whole clan loved her. But she didn't love him. Or so he thought.
He had been amazed to find out that she had returned his feelings in full. She told him when Goliath died, the day he became leader. Were it anyone else he might have suspected that she lied to gain import, but not his sweet Goddess of the Night. As a present, Puck broke her spell of transformation, making her a gargoyle during the day.
Ten years later, John Canmore's son Jason, named after the paralyzed uncle he had never met, held her over a rooftop, her beautiful face frozen in horror. Tied down, beaten badly for his attempts to intervene, he could only watch as the sun came up, knowing that soon she would be no more.
He cursed the Fate that had given this Canmore the knowledge that not all gargoyles were bad. He lived to see another night, and to see his love shattered on the street.
His clan watched as he sobbed over his Goddess' remains. He never cried. Ever. Not when his leader was killed, not when Demona tortured him to within an inch of his life. Not a tear. But this was his love. This was, they all knew, another matter entirely.
He looked up at the crowd of gargoyles watching him, stood, flexed his wings, and gave a full-throated gargoyle mourning roar. Tears in his eyes, he lifted her head for all to see, face frozen forever in a look of horror and despair.
Softly, that none may hear him, he whispered, "Farewell, Elisa. My Goddess of the night."