Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Atlas was… irritated.
The sensation was a constant itch under his skin—under his scales—just as it had been for the past week.
He couldn’t seem to get comfortable. Not in his satiny bed or on his velvety couch. Not in his spotless kitchen, or out on the street, or even at the gym.
And for once, there was no obvious appeal in calling over some random, beautiful human to amuse him like he usually would.
The thing was, Atlas had expected to see more of his little mouse after that night.
He hadn’t thought the timid human would be able to resist, actually. Not when Benjamin had been panting after Atlas’s bare chest like some starved creature, all bright-eyed and openmouthed and practically salivating.
He’d wanted Atlas to kiss him. Atlas knew that for a fact.
He hadn’t exactly expected Benjamin to show up at his door—his little neighbor wasn’t quite that intrepid—but perhaps there would have been a purposeful lingering in the building’s entryway or a new habit of checking his mail more than strictly necessary.
But there’d been nothing. Not a peep. Not a squeak.
It was beyond disappointing. Benjamin wanted him. Even if Atlas hadn’t trusted his other senses, the lust in the air that night had been thick as sin, dampened though it might have been by the fog of Benjamin’s confusion.
Poor mouse. Atlas hadn’t meant to use his gift that night—he never wasted the powers of his species on stray humans, even deliciously embarrassed ones.
So he hadn’t intended to freeze poor Benjamin there on the couch, or paralyze him in his gaze, or coil around his legs like some ridiculous pet snake.
But Benjamin had looked so much like prey.
He hadn’t just smelled like it this time, but looked it, with his glassy eyes and flushed cheeks and a tendency to take in too much air too fast. He’d looked like someone Atlas should snap up and devour.
Slowly. Leisurely. With ample time to lick and nip every inch.
There was another word for it, maybe, if Atlas felt like admitting it.
A title above prey. One that lingered at the back of Atlas’s hindbrain, as ancient and primal as his true form.
It whispered to him at night, when he was trying and failing to fall into the easy sort of slumber to which he was accustomed.
Mate.
Certainly a mate much more tender and fragile than Atlas would have chosen for himself, given the opportunity. But sometimes a creature didn’t get a choice. Instinct couldn’t be denied, not when it came to something like this.
And Benjamin had to be stronger than he looked, didn’t he, if he’d shaken off Atlas’s paralysis like that? And then had the audacity to blame his reaction on nonexistent alcohol, defiant and defensive when Atlas had dared to question him.
Atlas’s lips twitched at the thought. He was tempted to break into a grin despite his grumpy mood.
Cute. That was what Benjamin was. A cute little morsel.
Atlas didn’t know how he’d missed it before, come to think of it. He’d been too distracted by easy, shiny temptations, the ones that were all surface with no substance. And too quick to overlook Benjamin’s tasteless scent of boredom and despair.
Still, the oversight had been rectified. Atlas knew what he was missing now, and he’d never been one to let himself go hungry when something delicious was just out of reach.
So the question was… how to lure Benjamin back to his lair?
It was only a few days until Christmas, and Atlas knew with a strange sort of certainty that Benjamin wouldn’t be leaving his apartment on Christmas Day. He’d hide in his little mouse den instead, wrapped in blankets and loneliness, and lick his emotional wounds all on his own.
Well, too bad for Benjamin. Best laid plans and all that.
Atlas was here to do the licking now.
And he had just the perfect gift to make it happen.