Then I raise an eyebrow, refusing to give him the satisfaction of shock he's clearly expecting.
"Really?"
He shrugs—the gesture impressive given his wingspan.
"I have a good sense of humor as you ca?—"
I bite it.
The tail that had shifted in the clear form of a thick veiny cock…
My fangs sink into the transformed appendage before he can finish his sentence, vampire instincts proving that yes, actually, Icanbite in this realm, thank you very much. The taste is strange—not blood exactly, but power concentrated into liquid form, carrying hints of darkness and Fae shimmer and something ancient I can't identify.
Hehisses.
The sound is pure shock, pure pain, pure indignation that I would dare do exactly what I threatened to do. His tailtransforms instantly back to its original shape, yanking out of my mouth with speed that speaks of genuine alarm.
Then the tail tightens around my throat.
Not enough to choke—I'm not sure spirits can choke—but enough to communicate displeasure in terms that transcend verbal language. His eyes blaze with fury that makes the air around us crackle with restrained power.
I grin.
Checkmate, asshole.
"You didn't believe..." I start to taunt, but my words trail off as my vision wavers again.
The disconnection is getting worse—reality pulling harder, this in-between realm losing its hold on my drifting consciousness. I blink once, twice, trying to clear sight that keeps doubling and tripling.
He tsks—a sharp sound of annoyance.
"Fine," he snaps, clearly reaching some internal decision. "I'll play your stupid games for the incubus's sake."
Incubus?
I try to ask what he means, but his tail lifts my chin before the words can form.
His lips press against mine.
The kiss is nothing like Cassius's shadows or Atticus's blood-hunger. This is intensely reinvigorating and frightening—cold where they're warm, ancient where they're young, carrying power that tastes of realms I've never visited and might never want to.
But more than anything, the kiss feels like breathing.
Like emerging from underwater after holding your breath too long. Like the first gulp of air after nearly drowning. Like my soul, so loose and drifting, suddenly remembering how to be attached to something solid.
Realityslamsback.
There's no gentle transition, no gradual return to consciousness. One moment I'm floating in between-space with a monster's lips on mine, the next I'm crashing back into my body with force that makes my teeth rattle.
My eyes snap open.
I'm still straddling Cassius.
Still positioned exactly where I was before my spirit decided to take an unauthorized vacation. He's looking at me with concern that makes his silver eyes more human than shadow, hands still gripping my hips with possessive strength.
I groan.
My head is pounding—a symphony of pain that suggests I've put my brain through too many traumas in too short a time. Everything feels scrambled, consciousness still sorting itself back into proper configuration after being yanked between realms without warning.
