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I swallowed hard and tried to keep my focus on the road. The last thing I needed to do now was crash right at the one-yard line.
Chapter 7
Lucian
I could tell Zoewas a bundle of nerves. And frankly, so was I.
I had never meant to reveal my true form to her so quickly. Before today, I wasn’t even sure we’d ever get that far. But one way or another, I had wanted to make sure she was ready for it.
Ready for what a monster I was.
She wasn’t the first human to see my beast form. There had been several fire calls that were perilous enough that I had to shift in order to make my rescues. And every time, the victims would seem more scared of me than the fires that threatened to consume them.
Such a reaction was understandable. In ancient times, when hellhounds first started terrorizing the overworld, most people thought they were seeing the Devil himself. And they weren’t far off; my kind were known to raze cities to ashes, destroy entire armies, and sometimes even devour humans whole.
But that had been a long, long time ago. So long ago, that modern day humans wrote off tales of hellhounds as just a part of mythology, nothing real, nothing to be feared.
And even in the Great Unveiling, humans never went back to reevaluate such tales, at least for my species. They seemed more intrigued by the newfound existence of werewolves, minotaurs, dragons, and other more widely known creatures.
It was a blessing, perhaps. But I knew what monstrous acts my kind committed, and it wasn’t something I would ever keep from a mate.
Not that Zoe and I were anything yet. The beast in me wanted to claim her, but I at least had some temperance. Much more than my predecessors, at least. We could keep exploring things the way we had been, but I wouldn’t let it get too far without her knowing the truth.
The fact that she could see past my monstrous form earned her that courtesy.
Once Zoe parked her food truck in her apartment’s back lot, we both got out and made our way inside. I followed close behind her, not catching any scent of the man from earlier. But I still made sure to do a thorough sweep of the parking area, the apartment hallway, and the lobby, just in case.
Satisfied that he was nowhere to be found, I accompanied Zoe up the stairs to her apartment.
“You really don’t have to do this,” she said, giving me a way out yet again, as if I didn’t want to be here. I wondered what had happened in the past to make her not realize what a wonderful woman she was.
“I don’t mind. Besides, you promised me a mean pour-over.”
She stopped in front of a door and looked up at me.
Zoe’s beauty was breathtaking. Her thick, brown hair flowed over her shoulders like a waterfall, and her deep hazel eyes shone with a sparkle that was unmistakable. She had a round face and a button nose, with lips I wanted to devour. Her body was curvaceous and luscious, and the mere thought of touching it again made my cock stir.
I tried to push my lust down and focus on the task at hand, as difficult as it was.
“Welp, this is me,” she said, her eyes darting nervously around the hall before unlocking the door.
We stepped into the studio apartment. The place was wide open, with rustic brick walls and a vaulted ceiling. It was quaint and cozy and smelled of her intoxicating scent.
“Nice place,” I commented.
“Thanks,” she said, smiling nervously as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Make yourself at home. I’ll get the coffee started.”
“Sounds good.” I watched as she headed into the kitchen, then turned to take in more details.
Her apartment was impeccably clean and organized. It was easy to see her influence in the decor, with the handmade furniture, and the vintage style art adorning the walls.
I made myself comfortable on the sofa and took in the sights, and more importantly, the scents. To a hellhound, scent was something we never forgot, and could even call up as vividly in our mind as an image.
I breathed in all I could, catching hints of citrus, cedar, and rosemary. I could make out exactly what she’d cooked for dinner the night before—a roast and potatoes, seasoned with sage and thyme. I could also make out her preferred cleaning products and the soaps she used, all pleasant choices.
“Hey, so you like yours black?” Zoe called out from the kitchen, pulling me away from my sensory reverie.
“Yes, that’ll be fine. Thank you.”
