Floating my Umbraeth closer than before, I let myself sink into her contagious excitement, drawn to the comforting heat rolling off her in waves.
But when her intoxicating scent reaches me, something primal lurches in my chest, and I pull back before I can understand why.
She smells like sweet summer honeysuckle and warm sunshine after the rain.
It’s natural and beautiful and grounded.
Motherfucker.
When I shift back, I’m going to have a problem.
A painful, rock-hard one.
Contine te, frater. You traitorous bastard.
We don’tdohumans anymore.
“What are you?” I mutter to myself as she turns to ask her friend more questions.
The blue-haired pixie calls me dangerous, aloof, and “sexy as fuck.”
Not exactly the words I’d use, but close enough.
Part of me hopes that copper-haired threat to my peace stays the hell away. But deep down, I know I can’t stay away from her.
In fact, I’ll be counting the minutes until she’s on my doorstep again because I want to fucking ruin her.
I want her to suffer. To come. To cry. To bleed.
And I want her to tear me apart for every second of it.
What the fuck is wrong with me tonight?
When her sweet, light scent hits me again, I stifle a groan building low in my chest.
Wait.
What the fuck?
This is the same reality-shifting fragrance from the hunt the other night.
It was her? Okay, so what the hell does that mean for me?
Every molecule of my being writhes with contradiction—Protect her. Break her. Worship her. Ruin her.
Even my shadow claws at my insides, desperate to reach for her.
My thoughts snap and warp, but I can’t pull free.
While my mind is ensnared, the two women lock arms and continue down the street. I assume their destination is the same as Thane’s—the filthy dive bar at the bottom of the hill. Is this little goddess a hiker just passing through, or is she a new resident?
I thought I knew everyone in Lorewood.
I know for certain that her friend with the blue hair lives here and owns the shop a few blocks up from mine. I’ve never met her because I never felt the need, but now I’m thinking introductions might be long overdue.
Once the women are out of sight, I return to my Løkkda and slowly walk home, enjoying the crisp fall air. Beyond the town, the trees arch over the street like a canopy, offering glimpses of the bright white full moon.
The leaves whisper ancient secrets to each other as a frigid wind runs icy fingers along their veins, encouraging their gentle sway.
