I spun on my heel, exiting the diner as quickly as I could. The fresh air outside was a relief, but it did nothing to cool the heat pulsing through my body. I leaned against the wall, my thighs trembling with an insistent ache, while something deep inside me clenched and released with a maddening rhythm.
Cheese on a cracker.
I stumbled into the street, drawing attention rather than repelling it. People gravitated toward me like I was some kind of spectacle—a fox wandering through a playground at noon, or a raccoon staggering down the sidewalk in broad daylight. The kind of sight that would make the locals reach for their shotguns while muttering about rabies and public safety.
I didn’t want to get shot, I just wanted to get laid!
“I’m fine!” I held onto my stomach because I couldn’t hold onto my lady bits. The men who were most likely the monstrous type in the town glared at me and whispered.
I wandered the streets of the small town all day and tried to keep my hand out of my pants for indecent exposure.
At least I was burning calories with all this wandering, though eventually my legs turned to jelly. I stumbled into the only real alleyway in this postcard-perfect town—a narrow gap between Mama Giordano's (where garlic-scented steam escaped from upstairs apartment windows) and The Daily Grind. Any other day, that Italian restaurant would have my stomach performing operatic solos, but now my body hungered for something else entirely.
The coffee shop's windows framed couples leaning close over ceramic mugs, their easy laughter like sandpaper against my frayed nerves.
Yeah, have coffee with loved ones, you sick bastards.
I placed my back up against the wall. For an alley, the place was stupidly clean. The dumpster in the back didn’t stink that bad, and the drips of water running down pipes were actually settling.
That’s it, concentrate on something else entirely. Think of the water drops, how they hit the ground, the splash. Wouldn’t it be nice to see a waterfall?
I’m going to have to pee soon.
I continued to concentrate, slowly slid down the wall and sat on the ground. I could still feel my heart beating fast, my body trembling.
Gods, I craved him.
Time slipped away as I sank deeper into the stillness. My mind drifted back to those Saturday mornings at Zen Flow Studio, where I'd learned to breathe through panic attacks. Somehow, those same techniques were working against whatever supernatural horniness had hijacked my body.
The scraping of claws on sidewalk outside startled me, awakening myself from my deep meditation. I opened my eyes to see that it was dark outside. Like, dark-dark.
How long did I meditate for?
The heat between my thighs erupted again. My breasts felt heavy, but this time, I had more energy. I wasn’t tired, ready to face the day, er, night as it were.
This could be bad, really, really bad.
Especially since I was breaking a rule of the town. The moon was up, a chill in the air, thankfully, because my skin was burning hot.
The sound of claws scraping concrete echoed through the alley again. My body tensed, recognizing that sound—Atlas had those distinctive taloned feet. Could it be him? Despite my shaky legs, I pushed myself up from the ground and stumbled toward the alley's entrance. Curfew be damned. After what I'd seen, afterwhat I'd done with Atlas, monsters weren't exactly news to me anymore.
The streetlamps that were there to brighten the streets weren’t on, so only the moon lit up the path. The trees that lined the streets were thick, almost covering the whole town in itself. It was cute, but there wasn’t any time to think about all that now.
I sprinted, seeing that there was a tall person in front of me. The back was wide, wide enough to be wings. Atlas. The clack and scrape of the feet fueled me further, and I ran and panted. The figure stopped, and it was like slow motion as they turned.
Yes, sir, I’m going to pounce on you like a wild puma getting its game.
I lurched forward with his name bursting from my lips. As my ankle twisted beneath me, I was sent hurtling forward in what seemed like slow motion. My hands shot out instinctively, grasping at the figure before me as gravity betrayed me. My cheek collided with something firm and warm through denim, and my fingers curled around what should have been the solid curves I'd memorized just hours before. A whimper escaped me as the ache between my thighs throbbed in anticipation of relief.
But when I was hugging said, squishy, delectable butt, it was in fact, not squishy and delectable.
There was no butt.
It was skinny, bony. My arms basically wrapped around this person twice.
A twig.
This person was a twig, and I could break them easily.
