Chapter 9

Cool air over me pulled me out of the endless void where time and space had lost any meaning and in which I’d been roaming. I felt heavy, pinned down to the soft cushion beneath me by an invisible force. Although fairly warm, the wall of flesh around me constricted my sense of freedom in the most disturbing fashion. But its outer layer, that fragile tissue called skin, felt unpleasantly cold.

The silence of my ethereal senses crippled me. I hated not instantly perceiving the presence of others on a wide radius, even through walls. This feeble nose perceived no particular scent of either threat or ally. The only thing clearly tugging at me was the pull of my bride’s brand anchoring me.

I lifted my eyelids only to close them immediately as a blinding light stabbed at my overly sensitive eyes. I batted my eyelashes a few times while those stupid human eyes watered, further blurring the vision I was trying to clear. Eventually, the damn things settled allowing me to see the high, white ceiling of a large room. At first glance, it seemed similar to the one I’d entered the previous day.

Turning my head to the side, a strange sensation exploded in my chest at the sight of my woman, head bowed, reading something on an electronic device. I felt hot and cold all at once, a strange fire awakening in the pit of my stomach. I attempted to lift my head, but the wretched thing weighed a ton. I lay it back down and began to contract the numb muscles of my limbs, getting them to awaken for the first time.

As thrilled as I felt to have my bride nearby, this wasn’t how I had wanted to first present myself to her: weak, pathetic, and uncoordinated. The next time I lifted my head, I heavily leaned on my elbows to push my torso up, then on my palms to get me into a seating position.

“Zain! You’re awake!” Naima exclaimed as I was struggling to turn my body and get my feet down so that I could sit at the edge of the bed.

With a Herculean effort, I eventually succeeded, my hands resting on the bed on each side of me to help me keep my upright, sitting position. I lifted my eyes to look at my woman. She had come to stand by the glass wall that trapped me within this space. I couldn’t resist smirking at the awe in her eyes as she gazed upon the beauty of my human vessel. She had fantasized often about this body, and I had made every effort to reproduce it exactly as she’d envisioned it. She tapped something on the tablet in her hand, and the sound of a fan resounded in the room. I realized she was evacuating the Mist that had lingered in the room to ensure my safe birth.

“How are you feeling?” she asked with a hefty dose of worry in her voice.

I liked that… a lot.

I attempted to answer her through mind-speak as I usually did, but I couldn’t find my psychic voice.

“Okay,” I said in a rough and scratchy voice from lack of use.

Fuck me, even talking demanded effort. What kind of lame ass vessel did I get conned into entering? I swallowed back my frustration and silenced the blossoming anger that threatened to rise to the surface at feeling so helpless.

“You must be feeling extremely awkward and weak right now,” Naima said in a soothing voice. “That’s perfectly normal. But it will only last a few minutes. Flex your arms and legs a few times to help get them going.”

An odd mix of anger and pleasure swept over me. I hated that she had to babysit me because of my current state, but I loved having her care for me. I began contracting my muscles again, but Naima frowned and shook her head.

“No, not like that. Hang on,” she said.

To my utter shock—and complete delight—Naima opened the double reinforced doors that kept me locked inside this space. There was no fear emanating from her as she approached me of her own free will. Even the tension in her eyes didn’t stem out of any worry I might do something to her, but out of concern for me. I loved that, and yet it stung. Did my weakness trigger this absence of fear or had she finally accepted that, as her Darkest Desire, I couldn’t harm her?

She sat next to me—although a little too far for my liking—in a position similar to mine.

“Lift your legs like this,” she said, lifting her knee to her chest before putting her foot back down, then repeating the same process with the other leg.

I tried to imitate her but felt myself on the verge of falling off the bed and onto my face. I immediately lowered my foot back down, gripping the cushion to keep from making a spectacle of myself. Naima’s hand flew to my shoulder to hold me back. It was as if lightning struck me where her hand made contact. An inferno burst to life in my groin and spread like wildfire throughout my body. A strangled moan rose in my throat.

Mistaking my moan of pleasure for one of pain, Naima jumped to her feet and came to crouch in front of me. Her beautiful hazel eyes filled with concern, and she cupped my face in her hands as she examined my features. Another moan escaped me, and my eyes all but rolled to the back of my head from the intense pleasure of her touch. How could such a pathetically weak vessel be so fucking responsive to the feel of my woman’s skin against mine?

My blood rushed to my groin while the fire in my nether region intensified, and a dull throbbing manifested itself.

“Zain! Zain! Stay with me! Focus on me!” Naima said forcefully, trying to hide the fear in her voice.

That fear, born out of concern for me, smelled delicious. I inhaled deeply, savoring her distressed energy. My ethereal self, which I had felt disconnected from upon waking, stirred to the front to feed on her emotions. They coursed through me, giving my foreign limbs the jolt of power they had needed. I opened my eyes, my gaze boring into hers, then I covered her hands with mine. I exhaled before taking in another deep breath to fill myself with her.

“Yes, Zain. That’s good, breathe in and out, and focus on me. You’re going to be fine,” Naima said encouragingly. “The dizzy spell will pass. Don’t push yourself too hard.”

“It’s you, Naima, not my awakening,” I said in a rumbling voice that had goosebumps erupt all over my woman’s deliciously dark skin.

“What?” she asked, confused.

Letting go of her hand on my right cheek, I wrapped my palm around her neck and drew her face a hair’s breadth from mine.

“You’re the one making me dizzy, my love,” I said in a purring tone. “Your touch is like liquid ecstasy.”

Shock, disbelief, and outrage crossed her beautiful features in quick succession before she pulled away from my touch and straightened. Naima glared at me, looking like she was fighting the urge to slap me. I would have preferred for her to bite me or rake her nails all over me…

“You sick fuck!” she hissed. “You had me worried something had gone wrong with your birth, and you were busy playing mind games?!”

I smiled and tilted my head to the side. “I wasn’t playing any game, Naima. Your touch genuinely made my head spin. It set my entire body on fire. This vessel may be awkward and fragile compared to my ethereal form, but it fucking loves your touch.”

Naima gaped at me, speechless, while I held her gaze unwaveringly. I recognized the moment she realized I wasn’t lying. The rollercoaster of emotions that flashed across her face would have been hilarious under different circumstances, but I was too fascinated by her beauty and the lovely expression of embarrassment that settled on her face. My mate was troubled to be flattered by my response. The poor woman had no idea how crazy I would make her for me.

“Right,” Naima said, looking a little flustered. “Well, you need to go slow and flex your legs to—”

Before she could finish her sentence, I pushed myself up and stood on my feet. My female’s eyes all but popped out of her head. Then the suspicious expression returned on her features.

“I couldn’t stand earlier,” I said preemptively, in a taunting voice. “Your sensuous touch and those tender emotions of concern you feel towards your mate have given me the strength I needed.”

She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, looking for an appropriate reply. “I’m not your mate,” Naima mumbled before giving me a furtive once over.

I nearly burst out laughing when her gaze slipped over my crotch only for her to do a double take. She stared in disbelief laced with another emotion I couldn’t define. Suddenly catching herself, she abruptly averted her eyes and jerked her face left. Although her darker complexion hid it, I knew beyond any doubt that my woman was blushing.

“We need to get you dressed,” she said a little too loudly.

Turning on her heels, she made a beeline for a set of doors on the left wall of the room. It opened on a wardrobe with a number of black and grey outfits dangling on hangers. On the left side, folded clothes filled a series of shelves, with a few pairs of shoes at the bottom.

“Why?” I asked, watching Naima with amusement while she busied herself picking out my clothes. “Don’t you want to admire your greatest fantasy in the flesh?”

I spread my arms wide, relieved not to feel myself waver on my feet, and glanced down at the gladiator body my woman had wished. It had drained a ridiculous amount of my energy to create, but the effect it was having on my woman made it all worthwhile.

“You’re such an ass!” Naima said in a clipped tone. “Cut it out.”

“I am what you made me. And, right now, I want to do all kinds of unspeakable things to you,” I said, letting my gaze roam over her in a suggestive fashion. “Touch me, Naima.”

She clenched her teeth and glared at me.

“Why are you upset?” I asked, genuinely confused as to why she would deny herself the pleasure of enjoying what was hers, created for her, and according to her wishes. “Do you not like what you see?”

“It’s inappropriate,” my woman said, extending a pile of clothes towards me while keeping her eyes averted.

“Inappropriate?” I asked. “Inappropriate would be you drooling over another male. But I am yours. Created for you, by you. No other female but you gets to see and touch this,” I said, taking a couple of steps towards her, while sliding my right hand down my muscular chest and chiseled abs.

The soft feel of my own hand on my skin reignited that pleasant flame in the pit of my stomach, further fanned by the sweet aroma of my woman’s arousal, dampened though it was by my limited human nose.

“Did I get it right, my mate?” I asked, in a purring tone. “Tall, muscular, tanned skin, with firm and round butt cheeks, and a massive cock small enough to fit, but big enough to make you feel like you’re on the verge of getting split open with each thrust.”

“ZAIN!”

Naima’s outraged shout barely registered. My brain had tilted the second my hand had closed around my partially erect cock to flaunt it to my mate. Fuck, it was sensitive! I gave it a couple of strokes, and my knees nearly buckled from the intense pleasure it gave me.

“Zain, cut that out immediately,” Naima hissed.

Closing the distance between us, she grabbed my wrist and forced my hand away from my cock. I opened my mouth to argue, but the words died in my throat. While my body undeniably attracted her, and despite the lingering scent of her arousal, the anger Naima felt right this instant exceeded the pleasure its sight gave her. I didn’t like the slimy feel that specific emotion of hers gave me one bit.

Confused, I took the clothes from her. She appeared relieved and pushed me towards the other door left of the closet.

“Go in the bathroom to get dressed,” she said before casting a nervous look at the top left corner in the front of the room. “And don’t come back before you’re presentable.”

Intrigued, I glanced at the same area, and saw the small surveillance camera I hadn’t previously noticed. My head jerked back towards my woman, my eyes widening with understanding.

A pleasant, warm, and fuzzy feeling spread over my chest. “You’re upset because others are watching what’s yours!” I said, with a blossoming grin. “Apologies, my mate. I had not been trying to make you jealous. I will rectify this situation at once.”

“Oh God! Help me with this one,” Naima whispered to herself, while covering her face with her palm.

She was cute and confusing. But no matter. I loved her being possessive of me. After glaring at the camera for their shameless voyeurism, I walked into the bathroom and placed the clothes on the counter while closing the door behind me. I didn’t like this small, confined space. It made me feel trapped. I didn’t much like the room I’d been born in, but at least, the glass wall gave the illusion that the room was far more spacious, less claustrophobic.

I made quick work of donning the dark grey shirt with a silver-colored, stylized logo of the letters M, D, and S. I didn’t know what it stood for, but presumed M was for Mist. It was a very snug fit. Thankfully, the stretchy fabric didn’t make it uncomfortable. A quick look in the mirror actually pleased me. While I didn’t care much for clothes, the way this one hugged every curve of my chiseled abs, strong chest, and the bulging muscles of my arms were bound to make my female drool while hiding my nudity from others.

I eyeballed the long, black, stretchy pants she had given me and then the dark-grey, form-fitting shorts she had also included. While the long pants would give my dangling parts more room, the tight shorts would hold them more snuggly, on top of hugging the curves of the fantastic ass my mate had wished upon me. Wanting to seize every opportunity to break down the silly barriers Naima might erect between us, and eager to see her mad with lust for me, I chose the shorts that fit me like a second skin. I certainly didn’t complain about the way the fabric outlined the thick shaft of my cock.

Pleased with my appearance, I opened the door to the bathroom. Instead of the appreciative expression I expected, Naima rolled her eyes, and her shoulders sagged in discouragement.

“Where are your pants?” Naima asked, as if addressing a particularly difficult and slow child.

“You gave me a choice between shorts and pants,” I said, somewhat offended. “I chose the shorts.”

She sighed and shook her head as if I was a hopeless case. “Okay, my bad. I guess I should have been more explicit,” she conceded. “I’m realizing now that certain things I take for granted may be foreign to you. These are not pants but underwear. You’re supposed to wear the pants on top of them. As you can see, these shorts are too… revealing of your private parts.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I muttered with a sliver of annoyance. “Clothes on clothes? That has to be incredibly uncomfortable.”

“Stop whining and go put your pants on,” Naima responded without an ounce of sympathy. “Anyone who doesn’t need to wear a bra has absolutely no ground to complain about layers of clothes and, more specifically, underwear. Now, go, chop-chop. We have a lot of things to do today.”

Scrunching my face in displeasure, I went back inside the bathroom but didn’t close the door as I slipped on the garment. At least, the appreciative glance my woman stole at me soothed some of my aggravation.

“Much better,” Naima said in an approving tone when I finished putting on the wretched garment.

This time, she wasn’t so skittish in admiring the view. I instinctively puffed out my chest, basking in her attention. She gave me the ‘you’re so hopeless’ look, but her emotions only broadcast amusement and an undeniable attraction.

To my shock, Naima then gave me a shameless once over, pursing her lips in a critical fashion. “Yeah, you’re not bad,” she said in a nonchalant way. “I’ve got good taste.”

I snorted, a smug smile stretching my lips as I opened my arms wide.

“No, I’m not touching you, and you’re not getting a hug,” Naima said in a tone that brooked no argument. “Here’s a pair of socks and shoes. Put them on so that we can go feed you.”

Walking up to me, she shoved the items at me. I took them reluctantly, annoyed by the way she so easily shut down her desires to switch into full business mode. I’d need to cure her of that bad trait.

My feet also didn’t appreciate this double confinement. However, the sole of my feet appreciated the pleasant cushion of the running shoes.

“Before we leave, this is your bathroom,” Naima said in a factual tone. “The human body needs maintenance that your ethereal form doesn’t. This is your bath and the separate shower. Baths take longer but are great to relax. Showers are faster. You will do either one or the other, once a day. Some people prefer to shower in the morning, I prefer to do it at night so that I don’t carry to bed the filth from the day that just ended.”

I stared, feeling somewhat bewildered as she showed me how to operate the shower and the bath.

“The towels, washcloths, soap, shampoo can be found here. Careful not to get soap or shampoo in your eyes. It’s not a pleasant feeling. Rinse until it stops stinging,” Naima continued, visibly amused by my dismay. “Once you’re done drying yourself, you will want to use this. It’s antiperspirant. Roll it under your armpits like this. Otherwise, you’re going to stink like a mofo. That’s the best way to make sure everyone will flee you like the plague, especially the ladies. As a matter of fact, you should put some on now since I’m going to have you sweating like a pig in not too long.”

Naima spoke in a taunting, and slightly suggestive way that made me itch with the urge to put her across my knees and spank her.

Begrudgingly taking the bottle from her, I brought it to my armpit only to have her immediately stop me.

“No, silly goose. Not on your clothes! Directly on your skin,” Naima exclaimed. “You don’t have to take off your shirt, you can just lift the hem.”

I ground my teeth but complied. As I was switching hands to apply some of the wet, but clear gel under my other armpit, I caught the way my woman was eyeballing my exposed torso. Instead of expediting the process as I’d previously been doing, I slowed down and contracted my abdominal muscles to give her even more of an eyeful. She bit her bottom lip, her hazel eyes darkening, while the scent of her arousal tickled my nose.

Suddenly realizing I had stopped applying the antiperspirant and was just staring at her drooling over me, Naima looked up at me, embarrassed to have been caught red-handed. However, she lifted her chin defiantly at the sight of my smug grin.

“I wouldn’t be human if I didn’t enjoy the eye candy,” she said dismissively. “Close the bottle, and fix your shirt.”

My smile broadened. I was going to enjoy playing this little game with my mate. She indicated for me to put it on the corner of the counter. The domestic feel of it all amused me. Naima then opened a drawer to pull out some device with a tiny comb at the tip.

“That’s an electric razor,” my mate explained with a shit-eating grin that told me I wouldn’t enjoy what followed. “This is to shave the hair that will grow on your face.”

My jaw dropped. “I don’t have facial hair,” I argued. “You didn’t want facial hair.”

“That’s correct,” Naima said with a nod. “But the fact that you don’t have any now doesn’t mean it won’t grow. In fact, your beard and mustache are quite likely growing as we speak, but it won’t show for a number of hours. Make sure your skin and the shaver are perfectly dry before you do it. When you’re done, you’ll need some aftershave to keep your skin from developing a bunch of bumps. And don’t forget to clean the shaver before the next use.”

“Are you shitting me?” I growled.

“Nope, not in the least,” Naima said in a sing-song tone. “Speaking of which, the toilet is going to become your new BFF,” she added, playfully pointing at it with her index finger. “You will visit it at least once a day, but probably more like three or four times to evacuate waste from the food you eat and beverages you drink.”

She walked over to the toilet and lifted the seat.

“Very important lesson: men pee standing up. When you do, you lift the seat, grab your little birdy, and aim in the center. Not on the edge, not on the floor, not on the walls. In. The. Center. Capice?”

“It’s not little,” I grumbled, to which she waved a dismissive hand. “What does capice mean?”

“Understood, in Italian,” she replied. “And when you’re done, put themotherfuckingseatdown.”

The aggravation with which she said that sentence made me believe there was some sort of story there. But she didn’t give me a chance to question her about it.

“For a number two—meaning the solid wastes—you will sit on the toilet, do your business, then wipe with this,” she continued. “In either case, when you’re done, flush like this, then go wash your hands with soap. Any questions?”

“I’m not doing any of that nonsense,” I snarled.

“Oh, you will,” Naima said with conviction. “Otherwise, you’ll be walking around swimming in your own filth. And believe me, that stench by far exceeds that of a sweaty armpit.”

“If you’re trying to discourage me from pursuing a human life, you’re doing an excellent job,” I grumbled.

“Are you saying that the Mighty Zain is unable to handle basic hygiene functions that even the weakest human performs without blinking?” she asked, her eyes wide with fake disbelief.

I bared my teeth at her, and she burst out laughing, completely unfazed.

“This is me giving you a heads up so that you won’t be caught with your pants down… literally,” Naima said in a teasing voice before sobering. “Kidding aside though, do pay attention to what your body tells you. There will always be a sign. Heed it before it’s too late. That is true not just of your bladder and bowel, but also hunger versus overeating, the good pain from training versus the one from an injury in the making. The human body constantly speaks to us. You will need to learn to recognize what it’s trying to tell you.”

I nodded, feeling slightly overwhelmed by how much more complex that transition was turning out to be. No wonder so many of the Transients who crossed over on their own didn’t make it past a few days, in some cases not even a few hours.

“Come, I’ve traumatized you enough with this,” Naima said, this time with something akin to compassion. “You must be starving. Let’s go feed you.”

I wasn’t starving but knew of hunger and the weakness that accompanied it. My stomach was hollow from having never received food before. My ethereal energy was enough to sustain me right now, but I didn’t want to unnecessarily waste it. Human food would be welcomed to continue fueling my vessel.

I followed in her wake as she escorted me out of the room and into the long hallway I hadn’t been able to enter the first time around. It was wide with a few doors on each side. A couple of agents conveniently happened to be standing a few meters away from us, ‘lost’ in an intense discussion. I smirked in a provocative fashion as my woman and I walked past them. Although they did a remarkable job of keeping a neutral expression on their faces while holding my gaze unwaveringly, the delicious scent of their fear wafted to me. Countless violent images flashed through my mind of all the ways I could dismember them, smash their heads against the wall, painting it and the hallway with blood and gore. If only my female would allow it…

“Behave,” Naima hissed, drawing my attention back to her.

Her frown, and the disappointment laced with worry emanating from her wiped away my predatory smile. Although it didn’t go away, my bloodthirst dampened, doused by my female’s disapproval.

We entered the cafeteria at the end of the hallway. Once again, a couple of armed agents conveniently happened to be there. Their emotions clearly broadcast they’d been expecting our arrival.

“They’re not fooling me,” I muttered.

“Nor are they trying to,” Naima said matter-of-factly, while gesturing for me to take a seat at an isolated table surrounded by a few carts laden with food. “They are here to ensure my safety and that of the other people in the facility. While we believe you will behave, we can’t be too cautious with human lives. Unlike you, death is permanent for us. There is no going back to the Mist to rebuild our energy.”

Although her bluntness took me aback, I appreciated the honesty. The only games I liked to play were those that involved hunting down prey or seducing my mate.

We settled at the table and spent the next eternity with my woman shoving all kinds of food at me, from sweet to savory, mild to spicy, sour to bitter, and everything else in between. She took an almost malicious pleasure at my dismay whenever I tasted something I considered foul. Naima’s sadistic streak was fucking sexy, despite it being aimed at me. It would have been an even bigger turn on if the rancid flavor of some of the repulsive dishes didn’t still linger on my taste buds.

My woman didn’t just sit there watching me eat, but shared my meal, often finishing the things I’d taken a single bite out of before cringing. Naima had a healthy appetite. While our tastes completely differed on certain things, her pleasure as she enjoyed our meal not only soothed me, it also fed my ethereal energy. No wonder my kind were so eager to connect with their creator in this Plane. Their mere presence was an energy battery constantly fueling us. It was strange to enjoy simply eating in my mate’s company. I never thought I could find pleasure in anything that didn’t involve stalking and killing a prey, or consoling my mate after ‘punishing’ her.

It turned out that I enjoyed food with strong tastes; sweet, spicy, and acidic. Crunchy food gave me an odd sense of power. I loved the sound of them shattering beneath my teeth. And meat… I loved meat, bloody… or rare, as my female called it.

“You have expensive tastes that you might not be able to afford,” Naima said as I chowed down on a nearly raw piece of meat.

I smirked with shameless arrogance. “They’ll give me the meat I want to keep spanking their runaway Nightmares.”

She shook her head at me but didn’t challenge my statement. My gut said she also believed it.

I stopped eating long before my mate. Those signs she’d mentioned about my body talking to me manifested themselves with a sensation of fullness in my stomach that threatened to become uncomfortable if I didn’t stop. For a moment, I feared that this vessel’s limitations would also impede my ability to gorge on ethereal energy. But to my relief, my full belly didn’t block me from continuing to feed from the emotions my mate projected.

By the time we got up to leave, I’d almost forgotten the presence of the other agents. That was reckless, especially for a predator. The minute you let your guard down, your enemies would get the jump on you.

That would not happen again.