I’ve felt Adrial’s presence in this room before—I knew he visited today, that he has occasionally visited in the last decades, most recently on the day my cock grew—but that was before Summer.
She’s staring at me, clutching her limbs tight to her body.
I lean in, closing the gap between us. “Did he touch you?”
“He didn’t touch me,” she says, her voice tight, breathy. Then she asks, not quite with fear, with anticipation instead, “Will you?”
My breath catches, my chest freezing.Yes,I long to touch her. Only she would never want that—she fears me and finds me grotesque.
I try to relax. I’m scaring her. She’s safe.
Except it’s impossible to be calm knowing Adrial’s rot is everywhere. How can I not scare her when I am scared for her? She should be terrified. A demon has his sights on her. A demon who would tear her apart and grin all the while, never mind his determination to learn my name. He knows she invoked me. He wasn’t bluffing.
Summer and I need to strengthen our bond. My failure chokes me, and I resolve to do something about it.
She needs it. She wants it. And so do I.
I will claim her as she has claimed me. I can lend her my strength, my light, maybe even more.
First, we must move. Adrial’s mark coats these walls, and the museum’s wards have not yet fully dispelled it. I can’t stay here with her while his lingering menace pollutes the space. If his demonic remnants can’t penetrate these walls they will scatter someplace nearby. Something bad will happen—and soon. Demons always leave a trail.
I have heard the whisperings about bad things happening in the town.
I lift away. “We need to leave.”
She drops her arms and shuffles to her feet, watching me warily. Her blue eyes are bright, unlike her ashen face and her slightly fogged glasses. Her hair is in a messy bun that has drooped to her neck, fallen strands framing her face.
“What did you mean last night, when you said you could protect me? Does that include demons?” Her voice wavers, evident of her worry. “Oh, fuck—” she glances deeper into the museum, her hand moving over her heart to clutch her shirt “—I need a cross, go to church—something! Is there something in the exhibits that could help? I need to call Hopkins again.Fuck…”
“I can protect you,” I grunt.I hope.
I’m too agitated to explain what I plan to do. She’s become part of this, and only her death can unbind us now.
Taking a deeper breath, finding her sweet scent, untouched amongst the rot, I give her my serenity. I breathe more of her in, seeking my own reassurance. Letting my surroundings fade, I focus solely on her and sway her emotions, relieved her heartbeat levels out.
I discover something else about her… an undercurrent ofarousal.
There’s a subtle scent of sex, sweat, and something intoxicating that I can’t place.
I stiffen, nearly stone for a frozen moment before my body quivers and wings ripple. My tail coils against the floor as my cock hardens behind its magical binds, threatening to release.
He has done more to her than just visit!
I bare my fangs, clenching my hands. Summer doesn’t notice, now pacing on the other side of the counter, her hands running over her hair. She’s muttering, reciting exhibits within the museum.
“It’s not safe,” I rasp through a constricted throat, digging my claws into my palms. “This place has wards, but they are not done quelling Adrial’s menace. We must leave. Now.” Now, before I’m compelled by this infuriating mixture of her arousal and demon sulfur. It’s doing things to my head, making me forget my purpose.
I step around the counter. Summer looks up at me, so trusting… the next question left unsaid on her parted lips.
Her lips… So sweet, so plump while pursed.
I hunger for their taste. Will they be peach-flavored?
Shaking the traitorous thoughts from my head, I wrap her in my arms and constrain her against my chest. She cannot scramble away.
“What are you doing?” She strains back in surprise and bangs her fists on my chest. “Leave where?” She kicks out as I heft her into my arms. “Let me down.”
The serenity I’ve shared with her fades. I force her legs around my waist, clutching her small form tight.
