Page 178 of Pareidolia

I pull him from the building as the man in the corner starts to stand, and his dazed expression promises exactly what I thought it would. He won’t remember me, but he’ll remember wings—wings and the promise that if he touches Aspen again, he’ll go to the grave with maggots in his eyes and feel it as they devour him.

I bypass Aspen’s house and drag him straight into Duskfen Forest, making it as far as his fire tower before I realize I can’t wait any longer. I half carry him up the steps and throw him into the empty room.

I’d come here once to kill him, and a part of me wants to try again. He falls back against the bed as I prowl forward, forcing my way between his legs and dropping to my knees in front of him.

“Nox, what are you… mmf…” A groan escapes his chest as I dive forward, dragging my face along his arm, the side of his waist. I run my skin along every inch that the human touched him until Aspen’s fingers dip into my hair and he yanks hard enough to pull me away, to pull me up so he can look at me.

“It’s fine,” he says, and when I growl, he just laughs. “Also, that sounds weird coming from this face.”

This face.

I hadn’t changed forms. Aspen drops one hand to run his thumb carefully along the curve of my jaw, my lips, my brow. It’s slow and methodical, like he’s trying to memorize these new lines I’ve given him.

“What the fuck, Nox. You didn’t tell me you had a hot human form hidden under all those muscles.”

I snarl, clenching my fingers and feeling the odd sensation when no claws bite into my palm. “Do you prefer me like this, in a human skin suit?”

Aspen sits back and looks at me, really looks at me, before leaning forward. His hands are rough when they wipe along the edge of my jaw, down along my neck. He streaks them across my arm like he’s wiping away paint to reveal a masterpiece beneath, and the pressure of his fingers and their demand make my body shift beneath him.

Where he touches me, the human visage fades away. Aspen’s fingers leave behind streaks of black, of red, of white…

“I want my monster back,” he whispers. “Neither of us needs to pretend we’re something we aren’t, Nox.”

Honest.

He’s honest.

Aspen could have that human I’d left dazed on the floor of the library—at least, he could try before I tore them both apart and dragged his pieces back to Duskfen with me—but he chooses me.

Not a human face.

Not a mask.

Aspen doesn’t want the illusion, the image I can shape myself to be that’s almost human; he wants the horror.

The truth.

Me.

My wings spring from my back, ripping away skin and flesh that dissolves into the shadows before it hits the ground. It’s easy to scoop him from the bed and flip our positions, easier still to dig hands into his hips, which slowly turn into claws at the pressure of his skin.

“If you want a monster, show me.” My demand runs straight through me and sparks into him, dragging out the moonlight in his eyes.

Aspen shifts up onto his knees to strip away his clothing, throwing it haphazardly to the floor until he’s nude above me. He’s gorgeous like that—the red, blossoming glow beneath his skin, his tattoo twitching on his chest. He’s covered in my marks, and I realize…

I want to feel his on my skin.

I drag him down until he straddles my lap, arms and tendrils holding him close. There’s a moment where he looks at me—where he raises a hand and wipes away the last of the human mask that I wear—then lifts his palm up to me.

“Spit,” he murmurs in soft demand, and I’m happy to comply. I lower my head and open my mouth, slicking his fingers. Aspen drops his hand between our bodies, and the low, dragging groan that rips from his chest as he fingers himself open arrows straight to the center of me. My cock spills from between my legs of its own volition, and he’s eager enough for it that he’s barely had time to work my saliva inside him when he lowers himself onto the slick length.

Everything about my body is made to help him take the damage I give him—the liquid, the slickness, the shadows—it all keeps him held together when he should tear apart… and he takes advantage of that as he sinks onto my cock and his head drops back.

Aspen’s beautiful like this, with the moonlight spilling from outside pale next to the soft glow in his eyes.

His muscular thighs clench around me when he starts to ride me. He fucks himself hard on my cock, impaling himself on the feel of me working so deep. The taste of his heartbeat slowly thundering louder and louder at the back of my throat is enough to make me ache and burn.

I drop one hand and press it to the flat of his toned stomach, and I can feel the way I bulge inside him, impossibly filling, and yet not nearly enough.