Chapter Fifteen

"And I love you, anyway."

The words echo as I hold her in my arms. She's so small in my embrace. I'm afraid if I move her, I'll hurt her. I am more than two-feet taller than her and even though I've been inside her, in this moment, I've never felt closer.

Her lashes are long and wet, speared from the rain. Her ice-blue eyes are brighter than anything around us. Everything, the grass, the water, the clouds, has darkened, and her eyes are the light.

It's impossible for her to love me. She doesn't know me. If she did, love would be the furthest thing from her mind.

The wind blows her scent to me, and I growl when I smell her attacker all over her. She's only allowed to smell of me.

How long has it been since she's swam in the lake? I've released my musk in there, so every time she swims, she bathes in me.

And I can't smell myself on her at all. It's him. It's fear. It's Death still clinging on to her soul. Death won't win this time. My blood is stronger.

"Rhett," she manages to say my name one last time before closing her eyes.

"Mickey? Mickey!" I shake her but she doesn't respond. In a panic, I rest my ear against her chest, clutch her small ribcage in my hand, and release a breath when I hear her heartbeat.

"You're lucky."

I place Mickey under my body as I curl over her, protecting her like a shield.

A black shadow figure is a few feet away, drifting in and out of skeleton form. He's leaning against a nearby tree, arms crossed, ankles over one another then pushes away. He floats toward me. He disappears and reappears every few seconds until he is in front of me.

"You're one lucky ducky, Mick." He reaches out to touch her and I roar as loud as I can in warning. I place my hand on her side, curling my claws into her body, then push her against me protectively.

"Easy. Down boy." He holds out his shadowed hand. "Lorcan. Pleased to meet you."

I curl a lip, sneering at the gesture.

"Grouchy fella, aren't you? Jeez. It's like—" he lifts his hands and mocks "—Someone tried to kill your mate."

"And I'll kill you if you try to take her from me."

"Eh, I'm not here for her." He waves his hand in disinterest. "I'm here for the guy you just killed. You know, the body floating face down in the lake." He points over to where I left Steven.

"I'd kill him again too."

"I know. He wasn't a very nice guy. Don't worry, where I'm taking his soul, he'll never know peace again."

I grunt with a nod. "Good. No one harms my mate and lives."

"Oh, I know. That's how it is for all paranormals but you're special, huh? All those different DNAs." He boops my nose.

Boops it.

"I'll have to tell Hell's Harvesters about this because it's you, and they are still learning about your… kind."

"They know?"

"You aren't the only DNA experiment here. You think you're the first cute little monster with a fluffy soul for his mate?"

"Creed," I say with realization. "The man at the diner with a feral pet on his shoulder."

Lorcan snickers. "He isn't a pet. That's his son."

I lift a shoulder before scooping Mickey into my arms so I can feel her against my skin.

"If you have questions, you should go to him. He is… crankier than you are though. I suspect it's because of the dragon DNA. Dragons are always ready for violence."

"I'm not angry about what happened to me. I accept who I am now. I like who I am now more than I ever did when I was human. I'm only angry for Mickey."

He tilts his head, tapping his chin. "Why?"

I stroke my claws through her hair, then trace the delicate edge of her jaw. "Because she's had to deal with enough monsters in her life. She doesn't need another."

"Being a monster isn't about how you look but how you act."

"I've done things to her I shouldn't be proud of." I touch the mating mark on her neck, my fangs itching to make a matching set on the other side.

"But you are?"

"Very," I growl, lifting her into my arms. She buries her face in my neck, her breath causing goosebumps to arise on my skin.

"I see." He floats over to the body, plunges his hand into Steven's chest, and rips out his soul. "I am taking him to Hell. Remember that when you think of monsters." His eyes land on Mickey, an envious expression crossing his face for a brief second before it's gone, replaced with a toothy grin. He waves his fingers. "Tootles, Rocky."

"Rocky?"

He blinks at me, then eyes me up and down. "Duh, dude. You're made of stone. What else would I call you?"

"Rhett. My name is Rhett."

He crinkles his nose. "I don't like it. It sounds so human. Rocky is better. See ya later, Sidewalk."

I growl at him and debate on ripping his shadows from his damn skeleton, but he snaps his fingers, and he's gone.

Before standing, I grab the knife that got embedded into her back because I wasn't here. I robbed one last bank. I just wanted enough for us to start our lives and not to worry about our future. I'm not sure how I'll ever be able to work again looking the way I do, and it shouldn't be up to Mickey to work all the time because she's stuck with me as a mate.

I don't care how many banks I have to rob. I don't care if it means I have to travel from state to state. I'll do it. I don't care if I'm a criminal or committing a crime. I've busted my ass before when I owned my business and look where it got me.

The blood on the knife is still wet and I can't help myself. Mickey tastes so good. I can't let any go to waste.

I press the flat side of the blade against my tongue, licking the blood from the metal. The moan that escapes me is loud. I flip the knife over, cleaning the other side.

"Fuck, My Brave Little Flower. You taste so good. How will I ever get enough of you?" I lean down and kiss her forehead.

I need to get rid of this knife. She doesn't need to see it when she wakes up. The memory of almost dying will be enough trauma. I rear my arm back, and with all my strength, I throw the knife in the air, and it flies across the lake.

A normal person wouldn't be able to see where it lands, but I can. It's in the deepest part of the lake and when I'm in my crocodile form, I'll bury it under miles of sand.

Mickey whimpers, wiggling in my hold before pressing her nose against my neck and inhaling. It's as if the scent of me calms her.

"You're okay. I'm sorry I wasn't here. That will never happen again." I walk up the steps of the back porch, open the door, then slam and lock it shut behind me.

I take her to her room, bypassing the spare she's been staying in because the primary bedroom is complete.

Milo took care of the dead animal as promised and now it's her dream room. A large king-size bed sits against the left wall so she can have a view of the lake when she goes to sleep and wakes up. The windows are more like a solarium. There is no drywall but thick glass from one end to the other, giving her a massive view of the environment she owns.

The storm continues outside regardless that Mickey almost died. The world doesn't notice moments. It will always continue to spin, whether someone had their worst day or their best. Everything continues as if you never existed.

I stand in the middle of the room, taking in Mickey's existence.

The world doesn't know, but it is a better place with her in it, and if she were to be gone, a darkness would fall over the planet because I would forever be altered.

I hold on to her harder, needing to feel her flesh give under my fingers. I gently place her on the bed, appreciating the dark four-post frame with a sheer white net over it. Every corner is tied to a post. Pillows upon pillows stack up on the bed, taking up too much space.

I bet they don't get used.

Her comforter is an emerald-green, soft and warm.

"I'm starting to think your favorite color is green, Mate." I tuck her hair behind her ear and smirk. "That's good, considering most of my body is that color." I sigh, stroking her arm. "What are we going to do now? I don't know if letting you believe I'm real is a good thing or not. I don't want to play with your mind. I truly don't. Mickey, I haven't felt the emotion of fear since I was kidnapped and tested on. I've lived every day since not being afraid of anything. And then you happened. You've seen me, and my God, Mickey, that scares me so much. You have no idea all the things I want to be for you. Your protector. Your lover. Your provider. Your strength. But your monster? Something you've already been running from? I'm not sure how to give that to you without losing you."

She turns to her side, the ruined blood-stained shirt catches my eye and I snarl, ripping the shirt from her body. I toss it on the dark hardwood floor, forgetting all about the material when I begin to count the scars on her body.

There are so many.

Too many.

I trace every one I see, starting at her lower back and working my way up. There's no scar from the knife wound. My blood took care of that, and our mating faded her scars slightly, but I'm afraid they won't ever be gone.

"I'm going to bring you his head, Mickey. Even if you only ever love the ghost of me, I will always love you in any form. And you deserve to mount his skull on the fucking wall. I'm going to make it happen. I'd go the core of the earth for you, Beloved. I'd walk through the fires of Hell and kill every demon who stopped me from getting back to you. I'd gather all the stars in the night sky just to prove to you your light shines brighter to me than they ever will. Is that what you want, Mickey? Do you want someone to give you the stars? I could gather them all, leaving the night a dark void, and wouldn't regret leaving the world in an abyss if it meant you were happy. Yet—" I sigh, tracing another scar given to her from hate.

The only scars I want to give her are out of love and obsession.

"—There would not be enough stars in the sky to amount to the love I have for you. The world would dim and still, I would be angry I didn't bring you enough light. I could steal the sun and it wouldn't compare to your soul. Nothing, no one, equates to you, Mickey. "

I curl over her body, the body that's endured too much in one lifetime, the body I vow to protect because it is mine now, and I press our lips together. I just need to feel them, the give, the softness, the way they make me hold my breath. I squeeze my eyes shut, cupping her face, my hand engulfing her jaw. I break away when I have to breathe and press our foreheads together.

Drifting my hand down her chest, I stop at the button of her jeans, flicking it from the hole. "Let's get you in more comfortable clothes." Tugging her pants off, she's left in a simple black bra and gray panties, nothing fancy, but the vibrations build in my chest again. My cock hardens just from getting the privilege of looking at her.

Thunder claps outside, followed by a strike of lightning. I dig my claws into the bed, breathing deeply to control the urge to mate. Every time it storms, all I want to do is knot her pretty cunt.

I push myself away from the bed, taking one last look at Mickey, her body calling to me to claim it. Spinning sharply on my heel, I stomp my way into the attached bathroom. My wings scrape the ceiling and dust falls all around me.

"Oops." I wipe the dust from my shoulder, my brows rising when it hits me how big this bathroom is.

The shower is huge with black tiles, and no curtain. There are two shower heads and a long bench.

A bench I am going to fuck her on. I'm going to fuck her on every fucking surface of this house. I reach for my cock to give it a stroke, then drop my hand, remembering I need to focus on Mickey.

The long vanity nearly takes up an entire wall, with a mirror to match lined by LED lights around it. Two sinks.

My heart skips wondering if she put in an extra sink for me or hoping she'd have a partner in the future. Me, obviously. No one else is coming into my house, sleeping next to my mate, or fucking the pussy I've claimed.

I'm the monster of this house and anyone who dares to enter is as good as dead.

An emerald bathtub captures my eye, the anger of another man in the house dwindling when a mental picture of me and Mickey in this tub together infiltrates my mind.

It isn't the color of an emerald, it is an emerald. My mate must have splurged for this. It's beautiful with different shades of green, glittering against the faint amount of light peeking in from the window overlooking the forest. The faucet is gold and there's enough room for me and her with some to spare.

I stroke the edge of the tub, surprised by how smooth it is, and grin like a fool. I know when she had this house renovated, she probably didn't have me in mind, but everything is three times the size it needs to be. It makes me happy thinking that maybe I'm in her subconscious.

Tapping my claws against the tub, I open all the cabinet doors, including a linen closet, where I find a cloth. I dampen it with warm water and hurriedly walk back to Mickey, my wings scraping against the ceiling again.

"Fucking, son of a bitch—" I mutter in annoyance, flicking the annoying flakes of dust off my shoulder again. If they were only a half of an inch higher, this wouldn't be an issue.

When I get to the bed, Mickey is still on her back. I bite my lip as my eyes roam her body, focusing on the way her panties cup her lips. I can see the indentations and they are fucking begging me to slip the material aside to feast.

I inhale, wondering if she's still on her period, and when I smell it, I almost fall over. I wrap a hand around my cock, squeezing it so hard it hurts to stop the orgasm threatening, but one stream shoots free and lands on her bedding.

Reaching to wipe it off, I stop just before the rag hits the rope of electric white.

I'm going to keep it there so her bed smells of me.

With every breath, my growls and vibrations become louder, my need almost taking over. All I want is to do right by her.

I wipe her feet, then the dried blood from her side, and then the corner of her mouth where Steven must have slapped her. No bruises. No sign of assault. All because she's ingested my blood.

"I just—" I moan, dropping to my knees while spreading hers. "I just want to smell you. I need it. Fuck, My Brave Little Flower, watching you fight like you did made me want you even more. Nothing about you is timid." Dragging my nails up her legs, I pause at the apex of her thighs, staring at the gray material, a red dot appears.

She's leaking.

I groan, burying my face in her cunt, clutching her hips, and I yank her to me until my ability to breathe is fucking gone. All I smell is her. All I want is her. All I fucking crave is her.

"Mmm," I moan too loudly, my tongue flicking out. "I don't have control of myself. Just… just one little taste." I suck the material into my mouth, soaking it with my spit. My fangs tear the material and that's when I realize I've bitten her underwear, ripping them from her body.

"Look at you. A sight for monstrous eyes." Her pubic hair tickles my nose as I inhale her again, and my control falters, licking down her cunt until I get to the string. "You're full, Mate. This must be so uncomfortable." I suck the string into my mouth and groan when her blood hits my taste buds.

My control snaps.

Her blood belongs in my veins.

It's meant to pump through my heart.

She's meant to keep me alive.

What else am I to do but devour her in order to keep my breath?

I lightly tug on the string, watching, waiting to see if she wakes up. She scratches her nose and turns her head to the opposite side. Her eyes are still closed, in a deep sound sleep, and I pull harder, the tampon easily slipping free from how weighted it is.

My mouth waters.

I sink my fangs into the cotton, sucking the blood free, and at the same time, I orgasm when her blood coats my tongue. The iron seeps into my taste buds and a fucking whimper escapes. Come shoots from my cock, the tentacles stinging my thighs and lower abdomen.

My eyes bleed red, my vampire taking over, and when the blood runs dry, I toss the useless tampon over my shoulder.

And dive into the source.

My tongue plummets the warmth of her cunt and she moans, fisting the sheets once more. I slide one hand up her body, rip the bra down, and knead her breast. I rock my hips, my dick rubbing against the side of the bed with needed friction.

She whimpers, tossing her head to the left, then right, her mouth parting with pleasure. I wonder if she thinks she's having a dirty dream.

My other hand reaches around, pinching and rolling her clit.

Her moans and whines fuel me. I growl into her, licking her depths to get every fucking drop of the blood that feeds me.

Mickey's thighs begin to shake, and she lifts her head from the mattress, a sleepy mewl signaling her orgasm.

"Such a good girl for letting me eat," I whisper, kissing the inside of her thigh. The rush of blood in her artery casts a spell on me and I drag my lips across her inner thigh, peeking up at her to see if she's still asleep.

After her orgasm, she isn't moving.

This bite will wake her.

I shift into my ghost, unable to deny the need to bite her and sink my fangs into her flesh.

Mickey screams in pleasure, my bite causing her to orgasm and sweeten her blood.

"What… what? Oh God, yes." She arches her back, fists the sheets, and tilts her head to the mattress. "Rhett. Rhett. Rhett!" She chants my name as I drink, doing my best to remain quiet.

Removing my fangs, I lick the marks to heal them.

Her eyes hood again with sleep, but it doesn't stop her from staring right at me as if she can see me.

"Rhett?"

I remain quiet, letting the doubt creep into her mind that I'm not truly here. It's better for her.

"Rhett," she whispers before falling asleep again.

I stand, reeling in my anger, the storm outside gaining wicked fury, and the need to mate hits me again. I trash her drawers looking for underwear. I snag a pair, grab a pad that has my come soaked into it, place it in the middle, and dress Mickey again.

Crawling onto the bed, I stay invisible, and I don't sleep. I can't sleep.

My anxiety is too uncomfortable and the only thing that makes it better is looking at Mickey.

I watch her. I memorize her. I obsess over her every beautiful fucking detail.

She doesn't love me like I love her.

Mickey probably loves the idea of me, but my love for her?

It's more than an idea. It's reality. It's action.

It's a catastrophe.