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“I want to eat him!”
“And you will. You will consume him once he has been properly cooked, and not a moment before.”
The thought of cooked flesh makes my stomach turn. I don’t want to eat meat the way I used to, the juicy, soft fibers turned to tough bits I’ll have to chew. I want to drink and swallow in easy chunks.
“It’s not fair!”
“Don’t be petulant,” Emrys lectures me. “Behave yourself and thank Atlas for not only providing your first proper meal, but for solving the problem of the Sheriff.”
I tear my gaze away from the pieces of person and look at Atlas. The last time we saw one another, I was a sweet little thing in a frilly gown. Now I am a half-naked wretch in a blood frenzy.
The scythkin stands in his most monstrous form before me, while behind me a beast of pure evil holds me still, but I am perhaps the worst creature left alive in this space. I am hunger incarnate. I am nothing but need. My appetite is even more intense now, both for flesh and for… flesh. That’s all I want now. It feels like it is the only thing I am capable of wanting.
“Say thank you,” Emrys prompts me again.
My muscles bunch and gather for a swift moment before I throw myself off the bed and into the arms of the scythkin who saved me. Fortunately for me, Atlas’s reflexes are faster than I am. He manages to retract the many blades that would have skewered me and catch me in powerful, hard arms, holding me close.
“You ran away, naughty girl,” he lectures me gently as I lap the blood of my father from his chest, licking the smooth carapace clean with eagerness. “I was worried about you.”
“No need to worry about me,” I say. “I always land on my feet.”
“Is this what you call landing on your feet? Look at you. Look what has happened to you, my sweet little human.”
“Hardly human anymore. She is a little monster,” Emrys chuckles. “She’s changed.”
“Into your kind? That’s not possible,” Atlas replies, eminently reasonable.
“No,” Emrys says. “It’s not. It’s more accurate to say that she has been infected. She has new appetites. She will be ravenous, I’m afraid, prone to outbursts and uncontrollable behavior.”
“So, much as she was before?”
“Well, to a certain degree.”
I am hungry. I have been hungry. But now that I feel the powerful body of the scythkin against me, the hard lines of his chest and abdomen rippling against me I am aroused. Intensely, deeply so.
The scythkin is my savior. He has eliminated the creature who raised me to hunt. He is also fucking hot. I look into his merciless, ultra-alien gaze, seeing nothing remotely human in it. I am glad for that. I do not want to see any tenderness in a mate’s eyes. I want to see what I see: complete alien possession.
“I have very much missed you,” he says.
“Even though I’m not the same as I was the last time you saw me?”
“You are exactly the same,” he says, gripping my rear with big, strong hands. “You are the human I bought, the human I tried to protect. You are the human I have followed across the universe to claim. And you are mine.”
He nuzzles me with his alien features, and I feel the angular lines of his powerful jaw against mine. His fingers flex against my cheeks, squeezing and flexing, grinding me against his crotch. I feel a swelling against my sex. I am barely clad, and he is not wearing anything at all. His cock is kept away behind some kind of alien plating, but I do not think it will stay there for long. He wants me, and I want him.
Emrys is still here, but he does not seem to mind. I glance over my shoulder for a brief moment to see what he is doing. He looks at me with a slight smirk on his lips, just a hint of fang showing. I don’t think he minds at all. I think he likes seeing me like this, wanton, wayward, losing control.
“Take me.”
I murmur the words against Atlas’ cheek, grinding myself against him in wanton desperation. He’s freed me. I know he wants to keep me captive, but he has done me a greater service than any other living creature on this planet or off it.
Atlas does not ask Emrys for permission to have me. Atlas does not say another word at all. He rumbles deeply and a part of him that has remained hidden from me and from most of the universe emerges at the apex of his thighs.
He is broad and thick, he is shaped like a rod, but not like a cock. A cock is too simple an appendage to be compared to his mating appendage. I feel it flex and move against me, seeking my entrance. Was there fabric between him and me? It is not there for long. It disintegrates under the pressure of his little myriad of spikes.
He could hurt me. He probably will hurt me.
Gone is the gentleman who called me young lady, and who tucked me up in a sweet, feminine bed. The monster is here, and he wants me. Even Emrys has the sense not to come between us.
