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“Wait,” I blurt. “If you absorb Mr. Roberts, will you look like yourself or like him?”
“I will take on his form while digesting him. After that, I’m free to change my shape back to one you find pleasing.”
Pressing a palm to my chest, I exhale the longest breath of relief. “This might work.”
“Then step away.”
I take several backward steps toward the door and lean against its hard surface. My mate spreads out his arms, the way he did when he first entered my bedroom, and tentacles stretch out from his middle.
There are so many that I lose count after twelve as they twist and tangle across the room. When the appendages reach Mr. Roberts’s unmoving form, I stiffen.
“Do you want to close your eyes?” my mate asks.
“No,” I reply. “We’re in this together, and I accept every part of you.”
The tentacles form a cocoon around Mr. Roberts’s body, and drag him across the floor. When they reach my mate, the bundle of appendages rises to his torso.
Every fine hair on my body stands on end as I remember that octopuses keep their mouths in the center of their tentacles.
If the tentacles came from his torso, then does it mean his mouth was always in his stomach? I try casting my mind back to all the times I noticed him eat, but it’s impossible to remember what he did in the dark.
“Are you alright?” I ask.
“This prey is larger than expected,” my mate replies, sounding like his belly hurts. “I will need to rest for some time to ease the digestion.”
“I’ll tell everyone not to disturb Mr. Roberts.”
“Thank you,” he murmurs, sounding sleepy.
I step out of the office, into the locker room and close the door. Ryan hovers by the cleaning cupboard and turns to me with his brows raised.
“What happened with Mr. Roberts?” he asks.
I shake my head. “He had a dizzy spell while telling me off about being late, and I helped him on the sofa. Then he asked me to turn off the light so he could have a rest.”
Ryan shakes his head. “I’d like to take a power nap during the middle of the day.”
I raise a shoulder and walk through the locker room and out to the shop floor.
For his sake, Ryan had better not go into that office.
ChapterFourteen
Mr. Roberts’s accomplice still sits at her table, scrolling through her computer tablet while sipping an espresso. A lock of blonde hair falls loose from her chignon and she sweeps it behind her ear with a manicured finger.
I walk past the counter, my heart pounding even harder than it did two nights ago when I first found my mate standing at the foot of my bed. If what Mr. Roberts said was true, then she either sold my paintings knowing they were stolen, or I’m on the cusp of becoming a paid artist.
In a way, that’s more terrifying than a nightmare because selling my work to people who appreciate it is beyond my wildest dreams.
Jessika clears tables on my far left. As soon as our eyes meet, she jogs up to me with a frown. “Are you alright?”
“Not really.” I give my head a shake.
“Come here.” She pulls me to the corner, but I try to shrug her off. Then she grips my arm, forcing me to look into her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Shouldn’t you be telling me?” She gives me a meaningful stare.
