Page 67 of Palingenesis

The feel of it swirls in my gut, warring with need and desperation to mate, to take what is owed to me. For him to repay my graciousness with his own sacrifice.

My pants are too tight as I arch over him, my essence expanding to shroud the room in a darkness that will certainly steal all of the pleasure my human has taken from my mouth.

Candles snuff out, the darkness taking hold and I release my length to the blackened room.

Stroking myself, I finger the barb at the base of my shaft, pulling a moan from my own throat.

I wish to mount him, to make him mine.

Instead, I resist the urge to flip over his feeble human body and claim what's mine to have, and I pull my release quickly.

It barely scratches the surface of my desire, shooting from my body in angry waves.

"Why must you be so difficult," I pant out, knowing he cannot hear.

The veins below my skin respond in kind, pulsing with a glow that I cannot stop as I find my finish in the darkness.

My breathing is labored as I pull the shroud back, calling my smoke to withdraw from the room and revealing the light once more.

And when it does... My essence ... It is sliding down my human's face in thick streaks of white.

Serves him right.

Chapter 35

Ilios

The salve has run its course, bone regrown in a matter of days, but the human expresses concern at using his injured limb for its intended purpose.

“S-T-A-N-D,” I spell out for him in the hand letters I mimicked from his memories. It seems to have a heft to the message if it’s conveyed in this way, accompanied by a deeply drawn brow.

He crosses his arms over his chest defiantly. “You’ll have to carry me.”

“That can be done.”

He arches his brow, a challenge to my words, and I feel the heat blossom along my shoulder blades in response. My wings, seared into my back and buried beneath my skin wish to answer his request, despite the cramped interior we reside in. There’s no need for them, no space to spread them out, yet I wish to show them.

Would Shannon find them as… useful as I have?

Clenching my teeth, I reach for him, my talons clasping along the column of his throat before he can retreat from my reach.

His lips turn down, though his eyes betray him by dilating.

He likes this.

I tighten my grip and watch the joy in his expression war with a tinge of fear.

“You like this just as much,” I vocalize, voice not much more than a purr that he watches form on my lips.

The column of his throat bobs beneath my palm with his swallow, his mouth working around the restricted air.

I squeeze tighter.

He emits nothing more than a squeak.

Pulling him close, noses brushing, I press harder along the veins feeding his head the life force it needs to function and it’s then that the darkness of fear finally takes over. I watch raptly as the humor bleeds from his irises to make way for the panic.

Survival instinct is what drives him to grab my wrist, clawing at my skin with his blunt human nails, his breath faintly wheezing past my grip.