Chapter Thirteen

Shaking, I grabbed a nearby sheet and wrapped it around my bare body. Every step sent a wave of nausea through me, from the sheer panic twisting inside me. My legs trembled, but I forced them forward, knowing I had to find Katie. My mind was a tangled mess, the aftermath clouding my thoughts. But as I reached the bottom of the stairs, I froze.

Horror washed over me.

The Creeper stood over Katie, his claws gripping her limp body like a broken doll. He tossed her aside with brutal force, her body hitting the floor with a sickening thud. She didn't move. Her chest barely rose; her breaths were shallow and uneven.

My gaze darted around the room. Alex and Brian—what was left of them—lay torn apart, half-eaten. Their lifeless eyes stared into the void, their mutilated bodies painting a scene that sent ice through my veins. A wave of nausea twisted my stomach.

Then I saw him—the creature—turning his attention back to Katie, his claws poised to strike, ready to finish what he had started.

Without thinking, I screamed, "No!"

The Creeper froze, his head snapping toward me. Those glowing eyes locked onto mine, still burning with that terrible hunger. But this time, there was something else: recognition.

He moved toward me, dropping to all fours, his dark, hulking shadow creeping closer. My breath came in shallow gasps as he loomed over me, blocking out everything else. The air grew thick, and my heart pounded so hard it felt like it might burst.

Then, in a strange, almost gentle gesture, he reached out. His claws brushed my cheek, wiping away the tears that had started to fall.The touch was shockingly soft, completely opposite to the brutality I had just witnessed. His glowing eyes softened as he looked at me, as if I were something different—something he didn't want to destroy.

For a moment, the world went still.

Behind him, Katie lay motionless, her chest barely rising, her skin smeared with blood. My heart clenched at the sight of her—so still, so fragile. The fear that had been gripping me turned into something sharper, more desperate. The Creeper's eyes never left me, as though he was waiting for something.

My voice cracked as I forced the words out. "Please... don't hurt her."

He stopped for a second, tilting his head and narrowing his glowing eyes as he took me in. For a brief moment, it seemed like he was trying to figure me out. Then, in a voice that felt like it was rising from the ground, he finally spoke.

"You beg for her life," he rasped, the sound more growl than speech. "But what has she ever done for you?"

I blinked, my mind reeling. He could talk. The creature that had hunted us could speak. My mouth opened, but I couldn't find words. He was already moving, circling me like a predator testing its prey.

"You can talk?" The question slipped out, my disbelief hanging between us.

His lips curled, something close to a smile but colder, darker. "I've walked this earth longer than you can imagine," he said, his voice low and rough. "Of course, I can speak. But it's a waste on most."

I swallowed hard, my gaze flicking to Katie's limp body. Her head was bleeding, and the sight of her was too much. "Leave her," I whispered, my voice breaking. "Please, just leave her alone."

The Creeper stopped right in front of me, his massive body casting a shadow that swallowed me whole. His glowing eyes narrowed, as if he found my request amusing. "And if I refuse?"

My stomach knotted, my pulse hammering in my ears. I couldn't make sense of this—the fact that he was speaking to me, taunting me, while Katie bled out behind him. But I clung to the only thing I could—the hope that maybe, just maybe, I could save her.

"Please," I whispered, choking on the word.

He stepped closer, his presence suffocating. "When I take them," he murmured, his voice like gravel, "I take more than just their lives. I see their secrets... their desires." His tone sharpened. "Their lies. Their betrayals."

It felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. He wasn't just circling me—he was tearing through every raw nerve I had left. His words sliced deeper than anything else.

"I know what they've done to you," he said, his voice softening in a way that only made it more dangerous. "The things they've hidden from you."

A sob clawed its way out of my throat. He was right. Maya's cruelty, Brian's obnoxious behavior—all of it rushed back, overwhelming me like a flood. The reality of everything I had tried to bury crashed into me, brutal and unrelenting. And the Creeper? He fed on it, drinking in my pain like it was fuel.

He leaned in close, his breath cold against my skin. "They hurt you."

It wasn't a question. He knew. He could see every betrayal, every heartbreak. His claws brushed lightly down my arm, sending a shiver through me. It wasn't pain he wanted. Not yet.

"But you... you are different."

The words were heavier, laced with something I couldn't place. My chest tightened, my heart racing. "Different?" I whispered, my voice trembling. "How?"

He leaned in so close I could feel the heat from his skin, the raw power he held in every inch of him. "You don't hide like they do," he growled. "You feel everything. It makes you... raw. It makes you real."

The creature's lips curled into a crooked grin, eyes flickering with something dark. "You don't run from the dark."

He leaned closer, his voice a low growl. "You embrace it."

I sobbed, my body shaking uncontrollably. Before I knew it, I threw my arms around him, desperate for something—comfort, release, safety. I wasn't sure anymore. The Creeper stiffened at the contact, surprised, but then his arms wrapped around me, pulling me in.

I leaned back a bit to meet his gaze, my eyes glistening with tears. My hand seemed to have a mind of its own, gliding over the contours of his body, all the way down to his leather pants. I could feel the firm outline pressing against the material, straining to break free. Curiosity tugged at me, hesitation holding me back, but I let my hand wander, applying gentle pressure.

The Creeper's claws curled around the edge of the sheet covering me. His grip tightened, hesitating for a moment before he slowly pulled it away. The fabric slid over my skin, a whisper of a touch, leaving me bare beneath him.

He didn't move right away. His eyes roamed over me, lingering on every curve. His breathing deepened, his chest rising and falling with an intensity that made my heart race. His cold claws trailed from my shoulder down to my hip, slow and deliberate.

I didn't move. I couldn't. His gaze held me in place, leaving me trembling beneath him. His fingers traced down my side, exploring me like something unknown, something he needed to understand.

The heat between us was unbearable, his presence suffocating. His hand rested on my thigh, his claws barely grazing my skin. He didn't need to rush; he knew he had me where he wanted.

When his hand finally moved lower, brushing against my most sensitive spot, my breath hitched. His touch wasn't rough. It was slow, intentional, like he was savoring every reaction. Every gasp that slipped from my lips seemed to feed something inside him.

He leaned in, his breath hot against my neck. My body trembled, anticipation building with every second.

"You're beautiful," he growled, his voice low and rough. "Perfect. All of you."

I shivered under the intensity of his gaze. No one had ever said that to me before—not like this. He wasn't just talking about my body; he was talking about all of me—the parts I usually tried to hide: the softness, the curves, the stretch marks. He didn't just accept them; he was in awe of them.

His hands gripped my thighs, rough but careful, as he lowered himself between my legs. I could feel his heat, his weight pressing down on me, making my breath hitch.

He leaned closer, his lips grazing my ear. "Made for me," he whispered, as if it were the only truth that mattered.

With one fluid motion, he tore away his leather pants, and I gasped. He was huge—bigger than I expected, bigger than I thought I could take. My heart pounded, caught between fear and something darker, making my body hum with anticipation.

His eyes stayed locked on mine as he positioned himself, his hands gripping my hips. "You're mine, Rose," he growled, his voice sending a thrill through me. "All of you."

Slowly, agonizingly, he pushed inside. I cried out, my back arching off the floor as he stretched me, filling me more than I thought possible. The sensation was sharp and intense, but beneath the pain was something powerful—something that made me feel alive.

"That's it," he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. "Take all of me."

My body trembled beneath him, every nerve on fire as he moved inside me—slow and deliberate, savoring each second. I could feel him everywhere: his weight, his heat, the way he filled me completely. My breath came in short, desperate gasps, my fingers digging into the floor, trying to hold on to something—anything.

But there was no holding on. Not to this.

His pace quickened, his hips rocking against mine, each thrust deep and sure, sending shockwaves through me. My legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, needing him deeper. The pleasure built inside me, coiling tighter with every movement until it was almost unbearable.

"You're so beautiful," he growled, his voice thick with desire. "Every curve. Every inch of you. Mine."

His words sent a shiver down my spine, and I felt my body responding to him in expected ways. My hips swayed in sync with his, matching every push, and the tension inside me grew stronger, climbing higher until I was right on the brink, about to lose control.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against my neck, his voice a rough whisper. "Let go, Rose. Give it to me."

And I did.

The orgasm hit me hard, ripping through me with a force that made my whole body shake. I cried out, fingers digging into his shoulders, my legs tightening around him as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me. I was lost in it, lost in him, my body no longer my own.

He growled and his movements became urgent and intense, and I felt him release inside me, warmth flooding through me as he reached his own climax. He collapsed against me, his breath ragged, his body heavy on mine, but I didn't mind. I liked the weight of him, the way he covered me completely.

For a long moment, we stayed like that, tangled together, our breathing the only sound in the room. His claws stroked my skin, soft now, almost tender, and his head rested against my chest. I could feel his breath on my skin, hot and steady.

"You're perfect," he whispered, his voice softer now, more human.