Chapter Nine

Staying in ghost form for long periods of time, especially when I'm sharing my energy with a solid human body, is hard. I feel the moment my charge to keep the form is gone from helping her swing the sledgehammer into the wall. The sun helps me charge all my forms when I'm turned to stone, but with all the rain recently, I haven't been able to soak in the heat.

It's how I find myself on the shore of the lake in my humanoid form, unable to call upon my ghost. I dive into the water and shift into my crocodile to get away from Mickey's pain-filled wails.

They are tearing me apart inside. I hurt for her, but I am also furious for her. If the man who harmed her wasn't dead, I would kill him so slowly, he'd plead for me to take his life quickly.

I want to know his name. I'm determined to have Mickey forget him and the only name she will remember from here on out is mine.

Once I tell her.

I morph into my humanoid form, treading the water to keep myself afloat. Lifting my hands, I flip them over, studying the dark scales and long claws. How will she react when it's hands like this touching her?

My wings act as ores, slowly rowing me through the water. My hands fold over my stomach and I'm left looking at the cloudy sky. Rain patters against my stone chest, soaking into the cracks to revitalize my body.

Once I feel like I'm charged enough, either by sun or water, I'll go back to the house.

I'm not sure how long I float, but I've managed to find myself in the middle of the lake, her house barely in sight. The lights are on and from here, they remind me of a candle wick flickering as it burns.

Flipping to my stomach, I dive under, swimming toward the bottom of the dark blue water. I pass a few fish that zoom away from me, recognizing that I'm a predator. My toes sink into the heavy sand, brushing over small rocks. When my feet are flat, my wings spread wide just as the moonlight breaks in the clouds for a moment and penetrates the abyss of the lake.

Stretching out my arms, the crocodile skin fades and gray replaces it. My forearms become larger, and my fingers lengthen, the claws curl and become sharper, my feet widen, and my gargoyle bursts free.

I crouch, then launch myself through the water. I break the surface, draping my wings down my back. The air whooshes by my ears, drying me instantly. Just as I lose momentum, I spread my wings, flying as close to the stars as I can get.

I'm angry that I can't steal one and give it to Mickey. The sky can be so selfish. All I want to do is hand her a star to prove I can feel her light anywhere, no matter how near or far I am.

Taking a hard left, I glide through the night in the direction of Mickey's home. I circle the perimeter, checking for any threats.

It's clear.

For now.

The man at the diner is someone I won't forget. As my eyes scan her property, it is his face I am looking for.

My stomach grumbles, reminding me I haven't eaten, so I cut through the nearby forest and land on a tree branch thick enough to hold my weight. My claws sink into the bark. Patience is not my strongest quality. I just want to break into my mate's house and watch her sleep.

Is that too much to ask for?

The sound of leaves rustling to my right makes me turn my head in time to see a deer step into the clearing. My night vision is crystal clear compared to the daytime. I'm able to see the deer's every move. It lifts its head, chewing annoyingly loud, and I decide to make a little noise.

I feel like a chase tonight.

I snarl long and deep, leaning forward. My claws dig into the tree to hold my body up. The deer's tail lifts, signaling danger before bolting through the woods.

"Finally." I leap from the branch, flying over and under other tree branches.

The deer jumps over a fallen log, and I snatch it midair by wrapping my arms around its throat, putting it out of its misery fast and painlessly with a loud snap of its neck. I might be a monster, but pointless suffering isn't necessary unless you're a bad person.

I eat what I can, clutch onto the carcass, then fly over the treetops to Mickey's house. Bringing her food is important. She needs to eat more. I will provide it. She will never go hungry again.

I hover just above the deck and drop the deer with an unpleasant thud. I hurry to the long grass to cover myself, but my foot somehow gets caught on my wings with my panic. I tumble forward, somersaulting twice before landing on my stomach, my face smacking against the ground.

I grumble, fisting the dirt in my claws, and shake my head to get the ringing to stop. There's dirt in my mouth which only adds to my murderous emotions. I spit it out, the tips of my damp hair dragging through the soil.

Now I'm dirty and will have to bathe before I see Mickey tonight.

"Hello?"

Her sweet voice cuts through the annoyance and I spin around, staying crouched so she can't see me. Mickey looks down and screams, covering her mouth with her hands when she sees the deer.

My smile fades and I scratch the side of my head with my claw. This isn't the reaction I was expecting. The deer is a gift. I can't remember food as a human. Is this not sufficient?

"Who did this? Who left this here?"

"What is wrong?"

I bite the air, wishing her brother's throat was close enough to rip out to silence him. What's he still doing here?

"Someone left a dead animal here. What if… What if…"

"No, don't go there. This isn't Ty's style and remember, he's dead."

I flinch being compared to him. He would never give her a fresh kill. I'm already so much better than him.

"An animal probably dropped it off. Think of it as a gift."

That's the smartest thing I've ever heard him say. Maybe I won't kill him after all. The decision is still up in the air.

Mickey sighs, crossing her arms. "I would hate for it to go to waste. Maybe I'll take it to the lake."

"Let me get changed and I'll help."

"No, it's okay, Milo. I can do it. You go to sleep. I'll just tie some rope around its legs, try not to cry, and not look at it in its cute face."

So my mate has a soft spot for animals. That makes my gift-giving a little trickier unless I keep them alive and give them to her as pets.

Yes, yes, that. I bet she would love a bear cub— something soft and cuddly. No, actually. I don't like that idea. It would want her time, invade her space, and take all attention away from me.

Never mind.

I'll be her pet.

"Mickey, let me do this."

"No, Milo. If you weren't here, I'd have to do it. I want to do it."

He backs away and gives a timid nod. "Okay. Let me know if you need me."

That's my cue. I shift into my crocodile and scurry to the lake, gliding into the water before she can see me. I'm not ready for her questions when I barely have answers.

Poking my head above water from a close distance, watching her tie rope around two legs, tie a knot, and begin to pull with her back toward the deer and the rope over her shoulder.

"I'm so sorry," she apologizes to the dead deer. "I don't know what else to do. I feel so bad. I can't leave you here, though. I appreciate your sacrifice. You'll feed plenty of fish, maybe even a crocodile. Don't ask me why a crocodile is in the lake. I have no idea, but you'll feed him, and that's good."

My mate is cute trying to reason death to a deer.

Mickey pulls and grunts, exerting herself when she doesn't need to. By the time she gets to the shore, she's exhausted, gasping for breath with her hands on her hips. Even from here, I can see the sheen of sweat glistening on her forehead.

I'd love to taste it.

She unwraps the rope and drops her fingers down into the water, splashing her fingers on the surface. "Here crocodile, crocodile, crocodile," my mate calls, ending with a whistle as if I'm some cat or dog.

I'll let it go because how else do you call a wild animal?

I slither through the water like a snake and when Mickey's bright blue eyes see me, her smile lights up her entire face.

"Hey, so I have a gift for you. I don't know if you want it." She takes a step to the right to show me the deer. "Ta-da." She stretches out her arms, wiggling her fingers happily. "It was on my deck, and I can't eat it, so please, it's all yours."

I come closer, the scent of the deer's blood making my eyes roll, but there's something else. Someone else's blood.

Hers.

My claws drag the sand when I reach shallow waters. Her blood is a beacon to the vampire lurking in my DNA.

I'm suddenly very thirsty and yet, I can't tell where she is bleeding from. I roam my gaze over her, checking for any cuts. She squats, causing her legs to spread, and her aroma hits.

I purr, my cock becoming hard in this form.

"Okay, well, I'll see you later. Enjoy." She gives my snout a pat before standing, giving the deer a wide berth, shivering in disgust.

When she's gone and the door is shut, I snap my jaws around the neck and pull the deer in the water, giving it a few death rolls for the fun of it to subdue my prey— even though it is already dead. I have to get my kicks where I can. I take the deer deep, placing it in a thick brush to hold it there for me to come back to later.

The early night passes and the lights in Mickey's house are off. I crawl out of the water, shifting into my humanoid form seamlessly. Water drips off me, forming muddy puddles at my feet. The grass helps wipe the dirt clean and when I'm close enough, I jump onto her porch, crouching on the rail. I listen for noise, for any type of voice or heartbeat.

Silence.

Milo, her brother, is on a new couch that wasn't there yesterday. I can see him through the glass. I'm careful not to wake him as I slip through the door. One quick smother of a pillow and he'd be dead.

But then Mickey would be sad, and I don't want that.

"You live another day," I mumble, staring at him longer than I intend to.

He's cuddling a pillow, holding it tight like a person would another. Not wanting to waste any more time on him, I yank the blanket from his body, so he is cold and stroll down the hallway.

Her scent causes me to stop in my tracks outside the bathroom. The light is off, and the door is open, so she isn't there. I'm unable to keep my phantom form, the aroma is too strong. I'm not able to focus. Before I can think better of it, my plan changes and I've locked myself in the bathroom. Vibrations tremble my bones and I try to stay quiet, but a growl slips through my lips. The scent of her blood has me sniffing the air, my beasts going berserk. I follow the trail, kneeling on the hardwood floor until I'm staring at a trashcan.

I grip the bin, the plastic creaking in my hold. My muscles tremble as I try to remain calm. I bury my nose in the trash, groaning from the pheromones. My tentacles whip around the base of my cock, stinging the inside of my legs. My dick hardens, the tip leaking precome. A thick drop slides down my shaft and I stop it with my claw. I suck it into my mouth, knowing after tonight, being a ghost by her side won't be enough.

I pick up an item wrapped in toilet paper and unwrap it, my mouth watering when a blood-soaked tampon is revealed. My heavy, erect cock jerks from the sight.

Unable to stop myself, I suck the ruined cotton into my mouth. Her blood soaks my tongue and I whimper, falling onto my back. I bite into the tampon, sucking hard to get every drop out. The red fluid is like the finest liquor, drugging me, changing my fucking DNA all over again.

I'll never want to eat anything else again. Only her. Only her blood.

My tongue wraps around the spread material, licking down the seam. I imagine it's her cunt, bleeding, inviting me to feast and worship the sacrifice her body gives.

"Fuck." I stroke myself faster, my tentacles stinging my stomach. "Fuck, fuck, you taste so good, mate. I want your blood from the source. I want it fresh. This isn't enough." I sound like a madman desperate for more, but more will never be enough.

Even if I bleed her dry, I'll lick the inside of her skin to gather every drop.

I toss the tampon to the side and get onto my knees, rummaging through the trash for more. I find another and I could weep with relief while unwrapping it as if it is a present.

I'm a sick fuck.

I run my nose across the tampon, inhaling until my lungs can no longer expand. My entire body shakes. There is no fixing this side of me now.

She is doomed to be consumed by me.

The moment I suck the tampon into my mouth, I stumble backward. The corner of the counter digs into my back. I fuck my fist faster, hissing through my fangs. I rub the tampon over my lips, coating my mouth in her blood. I gasp for breath. Sweat beads at the base of my neck. My wings knock over the insignificant objects on the sink that are in my way.

My cock glows, and the jellyfish head covering my sack pulsates blue. My tentacles strike me harder, adding a bit of pain to my pleasure. I fucking love it.

I slide to the floor, my mind lost to bloodlust.

My reptilian eyes shift to the color red, the sharp tip of my fangs ripping into the cotton.

"Mmm, fuck, Mickey. I can taste your pretty little cunt too. So sweet." I'm not able to taste her blood though. I pull the tampon out and toss it, heading to the trashcan again. I dig through it, hoping for another.

Just one more.

I snarl, wanting to kill someone when I don't see another. I need more. I need her. Snatching the trashcan, I empty all the contents onto the ground.

There's one.

Just one left.

I shred the toilet paper with my claws surrounding my snack. Is this what my life has come to? Hiding away in a dark bathroom, stealing my mate's tampons just to taste her because deep down I know she will never accept me as… this.

A monster.

A deviant beast who wants her to sit on my face while she's on her period so I can taste her and have the warmth of the blood slide down my throat. The image has my orgasm right at the surface. My entire body buzzes, the tentacles dancing faster, stinging me harder, and I bite into the tampon, a gush of blood soaking my taste buds.

Needing my come to be saved, to be on her, so she always smells claimed, I let go of my cock for a second to open the cabinets, uncaring of how loud I am. The door on the left smacks against the wall.

I'm desperate. If Milo walks in here, I will kill him. I'll rip him to pieces for stopping me, for interrupting my process to make Mickey mine.

Something square and in a pink wrapper catches my eye next to the box of tampons. I unfold it, peeling the small piece of tape back to reveal a pad. It soaks blood too.

An idea forms.

A sick, demented idea that only makes me realize it isn't enough.

I unfold six pads, lying them flat and still safe in the wrapper. Kneeling, I fall forward on one hand, chewing the last tampon to gather every single drop of blood while stroking my cock. I peer down under me, the pads in my line of sight, and thrust my hips.

My long, thick, shaft slides effortlessly in the tight squeeze of my palm.

"Mickey. Mickey," I moan, spitting out the tampon as my orgasm ignites my blood.

Stream after stream soaks the pads. I aim in different directions, sending my come over each and every one of them. When she puts them on, she'll have no idea I'll be right there, marking my fucking territory.

My entire body shakes when the last drop of my orgasm falls from my slit. My claws dig into the floor, raking across the new hardwood she just put in as I try to control the burning need to head into her room and fuck her.

My chest rises and falls in unashamed rhythm while I attempt to catch my breath.

I fail.

Because even from here with the door shut, I can smell her in the other room.

I fold the pads and put them where they belong under the sink. They don't seem like they have been tampered with to me.

Smirking, I clean up the mess I made and toss everything I took out of the trash back in the bin, then notice a pair of panties.

I unravel them, simple and light pink, but it's the middle that cups her pussy that makes me hard again.

The small pair of panties are stained red, still wet with blood, and I suck the material into my mouth. I fall forward, catching myself on the wall with one hand.

A knock on the door sounds. "Mickey? You okay? I think I'm hearing groaning." The annoying protective brother with good intentions yawns, knocking softly again.

Not wanting to get rid of the underwear, I tie them around my wrist, the middle seam turned out so I can smell her anytime I want.

I drift into my ghost, unlock the door, and breeze through him.

"Woah, what the fuck?" He touches his chest, then pats his arms and legs. "I feel like I just walked into a spiderweb. I am not awake enough for this." He flips on the light in the bathroom and checks his hair for the eight-legged mini villains. Milo spins in circles, checking every inch of his body for the arachnid.

Well, at least he is occupied.

I leave him to his own peril, following the delicious scent of my Beloved's blood. I lick my lips, the taste of her dancing tangos on my tongue. I want more. My hunger has turned into starvation since the first taste. My stomach is an everlasting abyss for her blood, my veins flowing with her precious nectar, and my soul is being fed by her unknowingly.

Milo grumbles behind me, dragging his feet by the sound of it to head back to the couch, finally leaving me alone. I stop just outside her door, inhaling deeply and allowing her scent to stick to my lungs so it never fades.

"Oh, you smell so good," I groan, unable to hold myself back any longer.

I push forward, vanishing through the door until I'm in her room. My night vision allows me to see everything or everything she doesn't have as of yet. This room is not big enough for the two of us, but that's an issue for another time. My Beloved is currently on a small bed. There's no frame. It's just a mattress on the floor and calling it a bed is generous.

She deserves more.

I'm going to give her everything and she's going to wonder who would provide such luxuries for her. She'll be so confused but I'll watch the weight of the world lift from her shoulders as she experiences peace.

"No," she mumbles. "No!" Her arms lift in a defensive gesture, blocking someone. "Get off me. No. No." She begins to cry. "Stop. Stop!" Her voice becomes louder. "Snapdragons. Snapdragons!" She screams the codeword her brother spoke about earlier.

I crawl over her body, my invisible knuckles grazing her face. "You're okay, Mickey. You aren't with him anymore. You're safe with me." My jaw becomes tight when a tear breaks free from her distressed face.

I hate that he makes her cry when he isn't even alive to haunt her.

Good because that position is filled.

Her face relaxes when she feels me, a small smile playing on her dollish lips. Her lashes flutter shadows over her cheeks. She tugs the blanket to her chin and a long relaxing breath has her sinking further into the pillow.

"Such a good girl," I praise, clutching the blanket in my hand. "But you don't need this right now." I tug the blanket free, hoping it will expose her beautiful body. I tsk when I see she's wearing matching pajamas. The top buttons up and is long sleeve and instead of shorts, there are pants.

I growl from the unpleasant sight. "This will not work for me." With my index claws, I start at her waistband and cut down, the material ripping a small whisper in the room.

Her pants are in ruins, and I'm stunned by the view of a lifetime, a sight men wish and dream to see before they die. No man will ever have this view again, not as long as I am alive and breathing.

"This body—" I place my right hand on her ankle "This art of survival—" I lay my left hand on her left thigh "Belongs to me." I glide my palms up and down the smooth flesh, the bumps of the scars slide against the crocodile scales that make my hands.

Just for a few minutes, I allow my ghost form to fall so I can see what my skin looks like against hers. My claws glide down her legs, the skin dipping from the slight pressure.

The ugly crocodile scales against her beautiful human form leaves me unsettled.

"It's such a shame a beautiful woman like you has to be meant for a monster like me." I spread her legs with my knee, my tail slithering up her thigh. My tail looks like stone, but it is smooth like the crocodile scales so I can't hurt her, not that I'd ever want to.

I'd rather spend all my remaining eternities in stone than ever make her cry a single tear.

The tip of my tail slips under her panties and my entire core vibrates as a new thunderstorm flashes in the sky outside her window.

"I can't wait anymore, Mickey. You'll understand one day. You'll understand my need for you." I slide my tail up and down the seam of her cunt, teasing her and myself.

I want to know what I can get away with before having to be invisible.

With one claw, I slash her panties until they are nothing but shredded cotton on the bed. Her trimmed pubic hair feels good against my tail. Every stroke against the soft bush causes my cock to slowly drip precome from an orgasm that seems to be stuck mid-shaft.

It feels so good like fire is burning me from the inside out. Desire is its own animal right now, forcing the tip to slide across my stomach. Sticky residue is left behind and a soft buzz of electricity tickles my abdomen where the come is.

"Mmm," she whimpers the quicker I stroke her pussy.

My tail shines with her pleasure, the wet sounds becoming louder with every passing caress. She spreads her legs unknowingly, allowing me more access, and giving me a view of the pretty pink lips I can't wait to kiss. She's glistening with need.

"Look at you," I purr, biting my bottom lip as I roll over her clit.

She gasps, moaning in her sleep.

How long before I wake her up? How long before she realizes I'm not a dream?

I bring my tail to my mouth and lick her juice from it. I pierce my own lips, sucking the appendage clean. As I stroke it with my tongue, I wrap my hand around my cock, my eyes hooding from how good it feels.

I lower myself between her legs, gliding my tail under her shirt. The very tip plays with her nipple and her lips part, a sleepy erotic exhale falling from that pouty mouth.

My eyes shut as I press my nose against her cunt, inhaling her natural scent mixed with blood. My tongue slides out and I lick down the middle of her pussy while flicking her nipple. Her hands fist the sheets as she gets lost in her dream.

There's so much I want to do to her tonight, so much I want to say, and I already know where I want to start.

The strength of my tail rips the buttons from her shirt forcing the material to part enough for me to see her breasts. With every stroke of my tail against her tightened nipples, she moans, her chest rising and falling to catch her breath.

I morph into my ghost, not wanting to chance being seen. My tail caresses down her body, wraps around her thigh, and helps me spread her legs wider. Her body arches, her hands clasping at the sheets, she's moaning, and I haven't really touched her yet.

"You have something I want, Mickey." I slip my finger over her lips before circling her clit.

"Oh," she moans, turning her head to bury her cheek against the pillow.

"That's right," I croon. "I'm going to make you feel so fucking good that you'll always call upon the voice in your head to come fuck you." I slip my finger inside her, unable to get far when I notice a barrier in my way.

It's soft like silicone and I tug the skinny end, slowly removing the item. I'm careful, doing my best not to wake her, but I know that will be hard considering what I'm doing.

To my shock, it isn't a tampon, but a small cup, and when I have it free, she rubs her legs together, her eyes opening to see what's going on. Mickey can't see in the dark.

"Hmm," she hums before easily falling back asleep.

The cup is full of blood. My fingers are tinted with red. This is even better. It saves the blood. I'll have to always convince her to wear this for me so I can have a fix anytime I want. I shoot the blood back as if it's alcohol, licking the inside of the cup to get every drop.

When it's clean, I toss it over my shoulder, and it lands with a soft thud against the wall.

I'm feral now.

With a loud, fierce growl, I yank her legs apart again and dive between her thighs, plunging my tongue into her cunt.

Blood flows over my tongue.

And I fucking feast.

I snarl into her pussy, digging my claws into her body to keep a firm grip on her. I slide a hand up her stomach, the growl in my chest never fading and the vibrations become as loud as the lightning outside.

Cupping her left breast, I palm it softly, kneading it, loving how perfectly she fits. Pinching her nipple, I roll it between my fingers, giving it a soft tug before adding more pressure.

Her heavy breaths turn to pants. She tries to close her legs, but her attempt is for the weak. I keep them parted, fucking her cunt with my tongue and gathering every drop of blood I can get.

My night vision fades to red, my vampire coming out in full force.

Her hands run up her body, grasping the pillow on either side of her head before burying her mouth in it.

"Mmm, fuck, you taste so good," I murmur before licking up to her clit.

"Ohhh." She turns her head, rolling her lips together before squeezing her eyes shut in her sleep. "Ahh. Oh, oh," she exhales, her breaths becoming shorter.

My hand glides across her chest to her other tit, pinching the bead tightly which has her arching her back and rolling her hips against my face. She licks her dry lips, her tits slightly bouncing from her movements.

I suck her clit into my mouth, my fangs scraping the sensitive bundle at the same time I slip two fingers inside her and begin a punishing pace.

And that finally wakes her up.

Her body slides up the bed with every forceful fuck of my fingers.

"What? What—" she tries to ask, confused. "Oh God," she moans, her hand fumbling on the small nightstand.

The light flips on, illuminating the truth.

No one is here.

No one who she can see, anyway.

I grab her by the hips and yank her back down the bed, plunging my tongue into her tight channel, drinking all the blood that willingly feeds me.

Her hands grasp the sheets, twisting and yanking on them while she tosses her head back and comes.

"Oh, what is happening? What is—" She cries louder, more blood and come flowing down my throat. "What is this?"

"You're dreaming, Mickey." I leave bloody kiss marks on her inner thigh. "And the next time you come, you better say my name."

Her eyes become heavy again, the cruel twist of exhaustion and confusion of not knowing if this is real or not pulls her under.

"I don't know your name," she whispers.

I suck the blood from my fingers and moan in approval, cleaning her from me when the light hits the makeshift bracelet I made with her blood-stained panties.

Curling over her, I whisper into her ear. "My name is Rhett Royals, My Timid Little Bloom. And I'll be back tomorrow. Be ready for me."