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I frown as I flap my wings faster, speeding us toward our destination.
Not that she’d be much of a meal. She barely weighs anything in my arms. Her illness has kept her small and scrawny. Now she’d be worth little more than the toothpicks I could use her tiny bones for.
Barely a mouthful of meat on her entire frame.
I can certainly work on fattening her up, now, though.
A smile curves my wicked face at the thought.
She might be tiny, but she is still female. What meat she does have is distributed in the right places. Tiny little hips. Sweet breasts that swing from her chest, strapped to her body by some devilish contraption the female mortals like to wear here.
And now, for the first time in ages, I feel that male organ which so often lies dormant for me come to life at the feel of the woman in my arms.
She consented to be my consort.
Forever.
Tonight will be the first of many nights. And tomorrow, the first of endless days. For now there is a female to receive my—
I swell and harden.
And at the same time, I swoop low, for we have finally arrived, thank the Sword I struck through the Creator’s foul heart.
Her screeching starts up again. We are not going slow. Not now that I have my destination in my sights. And my consort’s warm, squirming little ass right over my hard maleness.
I will fuck her first thing, I think.
We speed toward the ground, white with snow. It is still dark out, and I have flown far.
Morning will greet us shortly. I can smell it on the air.
I head toward the snow that glimmers below.
My consort’s screams escalate to a fever pitch. My hearing is far more sensitive than any mortals, but I am too focused on the ground and our landing zone to tell her to stop. I squeeze her to me more tightly, hoping that will send a message.
It does not, apparently, or it sends the wrong one, because she screeches louder. I would not have thought it possible.
I heft her higher in my arms as we come in for a smooth landing.
I hop a few times on my large feet.
Her squalling does not stop.
I shake my consort. “We are on the ground,” I growl. “Stop with your noise.”
“Let go of me!” she screams. “Put me down!”
I roll my eyes but acquiesce, letting the heap in my arms roll onto the soft snow.
She immediately scrambles away from me. “My crutches,” she says, looking around. “Where are my crutches?”
“You are healed.”
Behind us, the sun crests the rim of the earth.
And with those first rays of light, my consort takes her first look not up at me, but down at her own legs.
I see the hope in her eyes, and as one familiar with hope and its disappointment, I watch it seep from her face.
Only then do her eyes fly to me, and they are full of accusation. “You didn’t heal me!”
She impresses me, because even though she is now looking at my full monster’s face—though perhaps I am still in shadow because the sun is behind me? still I am massive compared to her—she does not shy away in fear.
She is only fury and accusation.
She sits up, and in her fury, hops to her feet to come point her tiny finger in my huge face. “You said you’d heal me! We made a deal.”
I smile down at her, and she only moves back a small bit at my mouthful of sharp teeth.
Hmm, I’m not sure if it is bravado or stupidity that drives her now. Most creatures naturally seem to have more survival instincts than this one. I am obviously a predator, but she is not predictable prey.
“Yet you are standing,” I growl through my teeth. “And where is your pain?”
She opens her mouth, obviously with a retort ready on her lips. But at my words, she freezes and looks down at herself.
“But— But—” She looks up at me, then down at herself again, as confused as a child. “I don’t understand. I look the same.”
When her eyes come back to me, I smile with all my teeth again. “Did I misunderstand your request? I thought you asked to be healed. Not to be made beautiful in appearance to others’ eyes.”
Her mouth drops open and she sputters. “But how can you— They’re all tied together! The bones and—”
“Says who?” I growl, bending down so I am close to her.
She jerks back, but judging by her expression, and way she grabs for her nose, I am not sure it is self-preservation or simply my overwhelming… stink.
“Stay here,” I order harshly. “Don’t move.”
“What?” she starts. “Where are you—”
I rise into the air before she can finish her inane question. I don’t go far. I’m still within her field of vision, and her eyesight should be perfect now, along with the rest of her that I have healed from within.
