“Thanks, baby. I’ve got it. Go back to bed.”
I nod and retreat to the bedroom, happy that my heart has stopped trying to batter its way out of my chest.
Everything feels normal again.
Well…Zane-normal, which isn’t normal at all, but it’s the version I’ve learned to decode.
I crawl under the sheets and close my eyes.
Sleep pulls me quickly this time. But not before one last thought drifts through my mind.
I really hope splinters are the only demons I need to worry about tonight.
17
MAYBE NOT TWEEZERS
ZANE
The second she walks out of the bathroom, my lungs loosen, and the air feels too sharp to breathe.
Because I’m not holding tweezers anymore.
I’m staring at the blister pack I swapped in earlier.
The vitamins sit in a perfect grid, innocent, identical,harmlessto the precious seed I intend to flood her fertile womb with.
Her real pills I sabotaged but had to keep around until these arrived today are now a crushed smear down the sink, already forgotten by the world.
Not by me though. Hell no.
I lower myself to the closed toilet lid and rest my elbows on my knees, the replaced pack heavy in my hand.
I didn’t expect the rush that hits me when I sabotaged them the first time. Didn’t expect how it would return now, stronger, sharper, deeper. Almost unbearable, knowing there’s no hope of them fighting the potency of my seed.
She trusts me enough to fall into my bed and into my arms and into whatever I build around her.
She trusts me enough to follow me on the road.
To sleep beside me.
To hum for me.
To soothe parts of me I thought would stay broken forever.
And I willnotrisk losing that. Not for anything.
I tuck the fake pills back into her bag with a care that feels reverent.
My chest pulls tight.
This is it.
This is the line I’ve crossed so completely I can’t even see the original ground anymore.
I close my hand around the bag as purpose zips up my spine, hot enough to scorch everything else in my head.
Ruby Lane is about to be bred so fucking hard she’ll taste my seed every day for the rest of her life.
