“Home.”
My heart leaps as hope fills me, before I realize he means his home, here. Even though I am alive, I am no closer to leaving.
7
Horn
I’m clamping down on the bitterness of losing my eye so hard I might crack my overly sharp teeth. Her teeth lack the points that mine have, so I know mine were once like that. I haven’t looked this closely at a human in a long time. Or held one so close.
I must have crawled out of a puddle, scared and alone.
But I don’t remember that either.
I remember nothing of what must have been a few terrifying days, or how I felt when the first change happened. And I haven’t thought about those things in what feels like a very long time, yet when I look at Prey, or Julie as she wants to be called, her clothing is familiar, like I have seen people wear something similar. The smudges beneath her eyes from her makeup smearing is something else that feels familiar. Like something I should remember. But when I try to grasp the thought, it breaks apart like clouds in a strong breeze.
For the first time, I want to remember.
I want to know who I was so I can mourn him and the life I once had because even if I get her home; I am not going anywhere. I try to imagine what it would be like to walk through her world looking like this. But I have nothing more than the faintest impression of tall buildings, of trees. I should remember exactly what they look like, and smell like, and feel like. I bite back on the snarl, not wanting to ruin this quiet moment.
Maybe if I sit here for long enough, I will be able to hold on to the memory of what it feels like to hold her. I want more than the memories of fighting and killing and blood and pain.
The memory of taking her on her knees is fresh and while she bucked and quivered beneath me, and I enjoyed it, there is something else stirring within me that I am not sure about. Even thinking about her wet heat makes my heart quicken for something else other than battle.
She shifts on my lap, rubbing against my hard cock and stills.
Her skin is scented by fear and sadness, and I can’t help but like it, even though it is wrong. She is upsetting my world, changing my balance, and I don’t know if I should retreat or enjoy the ride—I know where both paths will end. The first will send me back to how I had been living, a rough life that only changes as I slowly lose everything that made me who I am, not that I was bothered by that before making a deal.
Now I am.
The second path leads to a much quicker destruction of myself, but holds some glittering promises of pleasure along the way.
She is mine to protect, to fuck, and to enjoy until we are both are destroyed.
My lips twist, and the smile hurts as it forms. I want to make the most of this opportunity before it is taken from me. So even though keeping her will destroy what I like about her, and what is left of me, I can’t help myself. Letting her go will create the same result, so why shouldn’t I enjoy her?
I was the one near the puddle when she came through.
She fidgets again, and I like the way she rubs against my cock.
“Keep doing that and I will fuck you up here to make up for losing my eye.” I only half mean it, but with one eye missing, I am blind on one side and vulnerable to attack. In that moment, I realize I won’t win the next fight.
I cannot defend her on my own.
The thought is like being run through by a spear. It rips through my guts and catches on my lungs so even breathing hurts. She cannot be mine alone. Not if she wants to live. And I know she does.
More than that, I want her to escape. To go back to her life, even if it costs me mine. If I help her, will it make up for everything I have done? I don’t know what happens to monsters when they die, their bodies are eaten…but their souls? Do they go to hell? Or is this hell?
Shit. I remember hell, and heaven.
But that is all. If any place deserved the designation of hell, it’s this one. There is only suffering and no hope.
Except Prey. She might be my salvation.
I run my hand up her inner thigh, letting my claws trace over her soft skin. Once again, beneath the scent of fear is the much sweeter scent of desire like she wants me to fuck her.
“Do like fucking monsters, Prey?” I refuse to call her Julie; she can’t be that person here. My fingers delve into her sweet, slick folds and I run my knuckle over her clit. She squirms in my lap, grinding against me. “Answer me. I lost my eye protecting you, you owe me something.”
I would give up my other one too, but then I would be useless. The changes aren’t predictable. Next time I might grow a tail or spikes along my back. Or even a new eye. No monster is the same.