“Is it?” He smirks. “I think it’s an ideal feature. Imagine all the time I’ve saved. If you added up every human’s bathroom trips, that’s years wasted. Years people could’ve used to do literally anything else.”
I stare at him with a mixture of disbelief and deep confusion. “So, you’re saying the secret to world domination is better digestive efficiency?”
“Exactly,” Ezra purrs, looking way too satisfied with himself. “Imagine what humanity could accomplish without such wasted potential.”
That’s the line that does me in. A laugh bursts out before I can stop it, my forehead dropping to his shoulder as I shake with helpless giggles.
“Christ, you’re actually serious,” I wheeze.
Ezra huffs, feigning offense. “I’m always serious, Aurora.”
“You’re so fucking weird.” I lift my head, still grinning, wiping a stray tear from my eye.
Ezra tilts his head, smug amusement flickering in his storm-grey eyes.
“And yet, you still look at me like you want to drag me to the floor and devour me whole.”
My laugh cuts off instantly.
I blink.
He grins.
I scowl. “Whatever,” I grumble, the corners of my mouth drawn tight in a suppressed smile.
“I’m just saying,” he murmurs, lips brushing my ear, “it’s a very … hungry look.”
I playfully shove him back, my face on fire.
“Congrats, Ezra. You’re the perfect man. No bathroom breaks, zero shame. The pinnacle of creation.”
Ezra smirks, lazily running his fingers down my spine, his shadows following. “And yet you’re still thinking about devouring me.”
I playfully groan but freeze when he tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ears, his fingers dragging slow against my skin.
“Satisfied, my curious queen?”
“Sure.” None of this makes any fucking sense.
But in my new reality? Sure. Everything he says checks out.
“So then … why don’t you stay a shadow?” I tilt my head, running a teasing hand down his chest. “Or a dog? Or something else? Why be human?”
Ezra hums, considering my question. His fingers trail absentmindedly along my hips, which is super distracting.
“That’s a brilliant question.” His grin sharpens. “Though I’m not sure my answer will satisfy you.”
He leans in, nosing along my jaw. “I could shift into a hawk in a pinch, but I’d only be as strong as a hawk. My two preferred forms—the Tesem and my Løkkda—are manipulative predators.”
His voice dips, playful but dark. “One lures its prey in with a gorgeous smile.” He flashes me one of those. “The other with puppy-dog eyes.”
His shadows slither over my shoulders, then circle once just before nuzzling their cool, charged tendrils against my bare skin.
“Both benefit me. And honestly, I haven’t needed my Umbraeth much in the past few hundred years.”
He pauses, grinning. “Although … I have found myself using it quite a bit this past week,” Ezra says with a wink.
What a fucking dork.
