Chapter Five

She has no idea it was me holding her in the water, my arms wrapped around her tight while she floated on her back. She has no idea it was me who guided her hand between her legs, needing her to feel the pleasure she ignites in me.

The ability to be invisible truly has its perks.

My mate is so beautiful, but scarred, physically and mentally. I sense so much, I can taste her fear even when she's still and relaxed.

Don't get me wrong, it tastes delicious.

I couldn't wait any longer to call her to me. Now that I've finally found her after flying around for months, living off the land like a beast. My abilities were hard to understand and learn. I flew west for weeks thinking I was following her scent, when really, I got further away. I made myself land in the middle of nowhere for months to learn my new self.

My beasts were becoming impatient while I learned them, educating myself on following different scents. Time ticked by— weeks and then months passed in frustration until finally, I had perfected controlling my beasts and took off again.

I landed in the lake outside of her house, shifting into my crocodile form, and watched her.

Now that I'm here, I can't control myself. I thought I'd watch her for a while, learn her habits, but no, fuck that stupid human-like idea.

She's mine. She needs to be claimed. She needs to understand that I'll protect her in life, in death, and everything in between. Fear? I'll consume it for her to sate my violence, so she never has to experience the bitterness. Nightmares? I'll invade them and give her dreams that make her scream my name. Weakness? I'll show her how strong she is while she has me on my back.

She'll see in time that I'm the best thing for her.

I'll convince her that there isn't one single part of me that is human. Why choose a man when she can have a beast? The scars she has all over her body that I saw when I was underwater, vibrating, staring up at her back, only a man would harm such perfection.

But me?

I'll scar the man who put them on her and then I'll give her one.

Just the one.

My bite, claiming her as mine.

The thought has my cock hardening in my crocodile form, the jellyfish shaft glowing under the water.

I can't wait any longer. I need something more.

There are only a few hours of darkness left before sunrise. Once the sun touches me, I'll turn to stone, charging my body for what comes at night. My only hope is that it is cloudy. If it is, I can walk amongst the humans, catching curious glances, but then I'll be able to keep an eye on my mate.

Maybe even speak to her.

Until then, there's something I need that only she can give me.

She tempted me by the lakeside, under the stars, where her body was a hunting ground, and I was starved for her taste.

I'll be damned if anything stops me from getting it.

My tail slices through the murky water, propelling me to the shore. I shift into my humanoid form where I stand on two legs and have two arms, but that is where the similarities end. My stone skin replaces my crocodile scales in certain areas of my body. The one thing that has actually stayed true to form is my blonde hair. It's long, past my shoulders and a few pieces glow the same neon blue as my cock.

I glance down at the water, my reflection staring back at me.

My pupils are slits, and my irises are a mossy green. My fangs seem to stay unsheathed. My ears are pointed, the skin cracked like stone that creates the most of me.

The sound of the shower turning on in the house has me spinning around and staring at the back door. Without a second thought, without thinking how wrong it is, I growl, stomping forward.

Her grass needs cutting, the deck needs to be replaced, and there's a hole in the roof. I don't like that my mate— whatever that means— is living in such an unsafe house. I know she plans on renovating, but she won't be doing it alone.

I blur up the steps and call upon the phantom living secretly in my blood, turning invisible so I can easily enter her house without disturbing the locks. Not that it would be difficult to break into this place. One firm tug and I could rip the door from its place.

The tingling sensation travels through my body as I slip through the glass door. I stop just inside, glancing around my new home for the first time. The walls are filthy. There are holes in the floor and a giant one in the roof that allows the moonlight in.

A memory has my hands twitching to begin work, to fix everything, to make this house our home.

I can do that for her, but first, I need to claim her, bind her to me for all eternity, and breed her.

We will have our kids here. All the children she wants. I'll teach them how to swim, how to shift, and how to be in this form. We will be a family.

Fuck.

I inhale her scent, my tentacles around my cock stretching and swaying to touch her. My blood burns for hers, and the ache in my fangs is nearly painful from the need to be fed by her.

Taking a step forward, I follow her scent trail, my nostrils flaring as I get closer to her door. My arms turn out toward the wall and my claws lengthen, scratching five deep grooves in my wake.

My brows pinch together when the decrepit scent of death swarms my chest. I look to the left, staring at a shut door with a crack down the middle. Curiosity beguiles me but I stop myself from entering, sliding my gaze down the hall to the bathroom door.

The hiss of the shower is still spraying and a small hum from my mate has a purr trilling in my chest.

I love her voice.

And instead of turning the doorknob to the spare room, I put the rancid scent of something decaying behind me. Her magical voice is a rope, and it wraps around me, pulling me effortlessly.

Stopping just before I step through the wood, I notice it is new unlike everything else in the house. This door is wide and instead of having a square top, it arches. My heart pounds as my body sinks into the barrier and I come out on the other side.

The air is hot, seeping into my lungs with every inhale and exhale. Steam is a dense fog. I can't see her in the shower through the cloud formation, but I do scent her shampoo and it has me reaching for my cock.

I drift forward, needing a closer look at my mate.

The shower stall is old. The door slides and is made of frosted thick plastic instead of glass, it's trimmed with more plastic dipped in gold paint. The inside of this bathroom is old, but it's clean and in working condition.

For now, that's all that matters.

The stall is big enough for both of us and I stand with my back against the wall, watching the water drip down her body. Her body is perfection, a bit too thin, which I will fix. I'll have to hunt for her and bring her fresh kills. She needs meat.

With my new view, I lean forward, narrowing my eyes as they drag down her body. I want to be able to focus on her tits, how they are the perfect handful. I want to be able to flick my tongue out to tug her cherry-colored nipple into my mouth to see if it's as sweet as it looks. I want to focus on her pretty pussy. I want to fall to my knees and bury my face in the thick, yet trimmed, hair she keeps there.

But it's the brand on her arm that has me growling, promising violence and murder.

Ty, it states in puffy, pink skin.

"Hello?" she yelps, wiping the water and soap from her face.

Mickey, the name her brother called her while insulting my gargoyle form outside, slides the stall door open.

I might kill him for that.

I haven't decided.

Mickey.

I really love that name. I've never met anyone who had it.

"Hello? Is someone there?"

I roll my lips together, keeping them pressed tight so another growl doesn't slip free. My chest feels like it will burst if I don't roar to let the entire town know I'm with my mate.

"No one is there," Mickey whispers to herself, her shoulders falling in relief, and she slides the door shut again.

My Timid Little Bloom.

Someone is here, but you do not need to be afraid of me.

You only need to fear how much I'm going to love you.

"You're safe. He isn't here. He isn't here." Her breathing changes, her eyes welling with tears. "He isn't here," she chants, the putrid scent of fear beating down my desire.

I swallow my anger, hating to see her so afraid of a man who clearly abused her, and harmed her in ways I would never do.

She presses the palms of her hands against her eyes. "You're safe. You are okay. He isn't here. He is gone. He can't hurt you anymore."

Every sentence sounds rehearsed. Like they have been said a million times.

He won't ever touch her again but everywhere she goes, I'm going to be by her side.

My mate begins to sob, the tears washing away with the water, but I know they are there. I smell the salt and all I want to do is lick them away before they fall so I can take her pain away, bathing my insides with her agony so she no longer has to feel.

Unable to stop myself, I press my hand against her chest, right where her heart beats hard and fast. She's still in panic mode.

I'll be her ghost and bring her comfort she can't see.

I rub my thumb back and forth over the scars on her chest, hoping she can feel my need to protect her, to love her, letting her know that monster will never touch her again. The scars litter her body. Some are singular, others crisscross as if he decided to play ticktacktoe.

They travel down her stomach, her legs, and even the tops of her feet.

My beasts demand vengeance.

She gasps, her breathing finally slows, and her heart rate calms. Her electric blue eyes are wide in wonderment, one last single tear breaks free from her lower lash line. Her onyx velvet hair is drenched down her shoulders and her cheeks are red from the hot water. I'm seeing her in her barest, most vulnerable moment.

And I've never seen a woman more stunning.

She tries to rest her hand on mine. Instead, her palm slips through my form, a small part of our bodies becoming one.

I lick my lips, staring at where we touch. My cock throbs to life, the tentacles dying to touch her skin.

The feel of Mickey is pure electricity and bolts dance down my shaft. If I ever had any question as to why I was created to be this monster, my answer is standing right in front of me.

"What is this?" she asks, staring at me as if she can see me.

She can't and there's a small part of me that dies because what if this is all I will ever be? What if I'll always only ever be her ghost?

A small smile tugs on the right side of her face while her fingers wiggle against mine. Maybe deep down she can feel me. She can sense that something— that I— am here.

Mickey's hand falls so she can turn around, wetting the front of her body. I hold in another snarl when I see her back. Whoever did this treated her like a fucking animal. I'm so angry for her. The need to hunt possesses me, to kill something, someone.

Him, for starters.

I let a small, quiet growl slip out on accident, and Mickey pauses, gathering her hair over her shoulder to turn her head. Her lashes are wet and long, nearly reaching the bottom of her eyebrows.

"You are losing your mind, Mickey," she mutters to herself, snagging the face wash from the built-in shelf.

If I make her lose her mind enough, having her be with me will be much simpler.

I lean back against the wall, sliding my hand down my stomach as my attention locks on to the round, plump ass she has. It's free of scars and a sick twisted urge inside me wants to change that.

Tightening my fist and imagining it's her pussy, I stroke myself. I bite my tongue to hold in a groan as I watch the water sensually drip down her body. I can see the smallest peek of her pussy from the back. I imagine myself sinking into her right now, pressing her against the wall, smashing her face against it, and slamming into her while biting the curve of her neck.

I use my other hand and wrap it around the base while the other works the top half. In tandem, I twist and tighten, fucking myself harder. With every move she makes it causes the water to slip differently down her body, and I picture that those rivers are my tongue licking every crevice.

The ribbon-like sides on my shaft are extra sensitive with every glide of my fingers bringing me closer to orgasm.

I drop my phantom form, remaining quiet on the other side of the large stall as I watch her. Staying invisible takes so much energy.

She has no idea I'm right here, I'm behind her, and I'm hers for the taking if she'd just look. Mickey remains clueless.

My gaze locks on her neck, my enhanced vision zeroing in on her pulse. A silent hiss has me flashing my fangs and my cock begins to glow that familiar neon blue it becomes when I'm about to come. Just as I'm about to launch myself at her, I call onto my ghost and shift in time for her to turn around, giving me a view of those tits.

One day, they will be full of milk, and I'll feed myself, tasting the sweet food that she gives our children.

I can't hold back— I can't— Fuck— I'm going to come.

Her eyes are still shut, and I risk snagging her body wash. I have to release my cock to unscrew the top as silently as I can, but once I have enough space, I wrap my palm around myself again, fucking my hand at a blurring rate, my vampire needing this orgasm more than blood.

Aiming my jellyfish tip into the container, I watch the vein in my cock glow blue as my orgasm inches to my slit. I sink my fangs into my arm, holding in the urge to shout Mickey's name as I pour my electrified come into her body wash.

So many thick streams settle within the greenish body wash, that I lose count. I sag against the wall in disappointment, wishing every drop could have gone inside her, bringing me one step closer to getting her pregnant.

I screw the top on and give it a good shake before setting it back on the shelf.

At least now she'll be bathing in me again.

Between the lake and this body wash, she'll reek of me.

Mickey reaches for her loofah, then presses down on the handle, small bolts are still firing in the soap from my orgasm. I watch intently, holding my breath to see if she's really about to wash her body when a drip down my arm catches my attention.

The skin is healed from my bite but the blood is still there, waiting to drip to the floor. I wipe it with my finger and dare to get closer to my mate. The soap suds across her chest and a sweet melon scent carries to my nose but it's my musk that lies just underneath. I grin knowing my plan is working.

Needing more because still what has happened is not enough, I wipe the simple drop of blood on her bottom lip and she flinches, licking her lips.

"What the hell?" She reaches for her mouth. "Maybe I bit my lip."

Yes, perhaps you did, My Timid Little Bloom.

I seep through the stall until I'm on the other side, missing the sight of her body already, and write a note in the condensation on the mirror for her to see. Touching solid material uses more energy than I'm used to, but I'll do it for her.

"I'm yours, and you, are mine. Forever, Mickey."