43. Chapter 43

Chapter 43

Who is that?

I stared at Fyn’s reflection in the mirror, embarrassed. He was in the shower, eyes flicking in my direction every few moments. It hadn’t taken much to get my Sunshine to see me beneath the new package, and we’d started to get intimate, but then we stopped. I didn’t know why. I also didn’t know why I’d started crying moments later.

Part of me feared Fyn wasn’t as fine as he was acting. I didn’t look, sound, or even act like myself. It was as if everything I’d been was ripped apart and was somehow remade into a completely new being. I knew logically that was false—I was still me—but it didn’t stop the intrusive thought.

I looked in the mirror and froze. A bubbling panic surged from deep within my gut. A face I didn’t know stared back at me. Yes, I hadn’t remembered my human face until Edith had shown me, but this… the person who stared at me was not me. The long face, the thinner top lip and plump bottom one, the wide forehead, and the glittering blue eyes.

Forcing myself to look downward, I turned the water on, swallowing at the sight of the scales covering me. Washing my hands, I shied away moments later. The water sluicing over my scales made a panicked tattoo start in my chest. The sound was so loud in my brain, thudding in my ears, and I wanted to flee from it.

Arms wrapped around my waist as a wet body pressed against my back. I swallowed at the slickness, my tail wrapping around my calf despite the prickles shooting up my spine from the movement. My dick immediately reacted, though, as the soothing tang of wet dirt filled my nose.

Zoltilvoxfyn.

I hadn’t even known what he smelled like previously, but something primal within me loved his scent. I was desperate to rub all over him, rolling around in the fragrance while covering him with my scent, and I had no idea why. At the same time, I wanted to claw the smell out of my nose.

How had I lived like this before? The humid air. The smell of soap. The cold stone floor beneath my feet. Fyn. Every sight, smell, sound, and touch was overwhelming. I was in a state of constant terror, filling me with the urge to flee as fast as this body could, which wasn’t fast.

Of course, when I was alive, all these senses had been the norm for me. I’d always experienced as much. But now, after being a ghost for over twenty years and then plopped into a different body, I found it all horribly overwhelming.

I was grateful to be alive, for having a second chance, for every sensation, and yet part of me wished to go back because being a ghost was what I was used to.

My wings flared and smacked into Fyn. “Sorry,” I immediately said. Had I cut him? The talons on my wings were sharp.

He kissed my bare shoulder, making me shiver. “It’s fine, Mate. Here. Let me help you.” Carefully, he curled my wings up and settled them against my back.

Tears burned the backs of my eyes again , and I had no idea why. I’d never been a crier before. Was Yolkeltod weepy (did it even work like that)? Maybe. I had no idea, but every other second I was sobbing. I hated it. I was turning into a fucking crybaby.

Fyn pushed my hair over my shoulder, eliciting a flinch, before rubbing his nose along the nape of my neck. “I shall teach you how to control them.”

The first tear slid down my cheek, and Yolkeltod’s tail hugged my calf.

“It’s alright,” he said. “Everything is fine. I am here, my Caleb.”

I started to brush the tears away and froze as my claws came ridiculously close to my eye. My wings flapped out, squishing against my shoulders. I opened my mouth to apologize, but Sunshine settled them against my back. He placed a kiss between my wings, and I shuddered at the tingles that went down my spine, dick throbbing in need.

God. He only had to look at me for my body to react. He didn’t press for more as he kept his arms about my waist and trailed gentle kisses along my neck.

More tears slid down my cheeks. “Why am I crying?” I warbled. “I swear I never cried like this before. I don’t understand.” My words broke off into heaving sobs.

“You’re stressed.”

I was alive. I should be overjoyed. The thrumming, so different from the heartbeat I remembered, sounded in my ears. My tail strangled my calf, making me grimace.

Zoltilvoxfyn’s hand rested on my sternum as he kissed my neck and rubbed his forehead on me. “Wrap your tail around my leg.”

“I can’t.” I didn’t know how to control the damn thing. It did whatever it wanted, along with my wings.

“You can. It’s yours.”

But it wasn’t. This was Yolkeltod’s body. His tail. His wings. I’d stolen it. Unintentionally. But still, I was a fucking thief. How did I live with that? How would Tinlorray ever forgive me? She could barely look at me, and I didn’t blame her. This wasn’t my body. This was Yolkeltod’s.

God, I wanted to claw my skin, or scales, off. I hated this body. I hated myself. I couldn’t even see my reflection in the damn mirror without cringing.

“Calm down,” Fyn said in a low voice. “Follow my breathing.”

He took a deep breath in, and I followed him—my every breath matching his. The longer we stood in the bathroom, breathing in the humid air, the more I calmed until the tears stopped.

Focusing on Zoltilvoxfyn, I continued to take measured breaths in an attempt to calm the storm raging inside of me. All I allowed myself to think about was him. The pressure from his lips, the strength of his embrace, the way his pierced nipples scraped against my scales, the sureness of his arms, and the way his hips cradled me. As I relaxed, my tail unspooled from my calf and wrapped around his ankle.

“There,” he whispered. “Better, right?”

I nodded.

“I will be right here,” Fyn said. “It will take time, but I promise it will be alright.”

I wanted to believe him, but I didn’t, not yet.