Chapter 15 Esme
Esme
I wake up to the smell of coffee and bacon, the scents drifting up from the kitchen and pulling me from sleep.
For a moment, I forget everything. I forget that I'm dead, that I'm stuck in this weird transition state, that my sister killed me.
I just focus on the warmth surrounding me, the solid presence of Duske in front of me, his arms wrapped around me.
Then reality crashes back in, and I sigh, my eyes opening to find Vesper standing at the foot of the bed, watching us with a soft smile.
"Morning, princess," he muses.
"Morning," I murmur, my voice still thick with sleep.
Duske stirs behind me, his arms tightening around me before he presses a kiss to my shoulder. "How are you feeling?"
I take stock of my body, the lingering warmth from the heat spike leaving way for the exhaustion that still clings to my bones. "Much better."
"Good," Duske says, his voice rumbling against my back. "Because it seems someone made breakfast, and you need to eat."
I smile, warmth spreading through my chest. They made me breakfast. These demons, these men who have seen centuries pass, made me breakfast. It's such a simple thing, but it means everything.
We make our way downstairs, and I'm hit with the smell of bacon, eggs, and fresh coffee. My stomach grumbles, reminding me that I haven't eaten since yesterday afternoon, and I move toward the kitchen, my feet padding softly on the hardwood.
Milo is at the stove, flipping pancakes with an enthusiasm that makes me smile. Vesper heads to the cabinets for plates and cups, Duske heading straight for the coffee maker. It's domestic and sweet, my chest tightening with emotion.
"Sit," Duske says, gesturing to the table. "We'll bring everything over."
I do as he says, watching as they move around the kitchen with ease. They work together like they've done this a thousand times, and maybe they have. I don't really know how long they've been together, how long they've been on Earth. There's so much I still don't know about them.
Milo brings over a plate piled high with pancakes, bacon, and eggs, and sets it down in front of me. "Eat up, dove. You need your strength."
I pick up my fork, digging into the food, and the flavors explode on my tongue. It's perfect, everything I needed, and I can't help the soft moan that escapes my lips.
Vesper grins, sitting down across from me. "Good?"
"So good," I say, my mouth full.
We eat in comfortable silence, the only sounds the clinking of forks against plates and the occasional hum of satisfaction.
Their eyes stay fixed on me, watching me eat with an intensity that makes my chest warm.
They're making sure I'm okay, that I'm really here, and fuck, it feels amazing to be the center of attention.
And then there's a pounding on the door, shattering the peaceful moment. We all freeze. Vesper mutters under his breath as he stands. "Who the fuck is that?"
Duske's expression darkens, storm clouds gathering in his black eyes. He sets his coffee down carefully before moving toward the door. "I'll get it."
My curiosity gets the better of me and I follow, unable to stay seated. Vesper and Milo fall in behind me, their presence a comforting weight at my back.
Duske opens the door to find Liora standing there. Her face is red and tear-streaked, her hair a tangled mess. She looks like she's been crying, or maybe screaming, and the sight of her makes my blood boil with renewed fury.
Duske doesn't waste words. "What the fuck do you want?"
Liora's eyes are wild, darting between Duske and the rest of us like a cornered animal.
"You can't just accuse me of killing my sister!
I didn't do anything!” Liora pushes past him, barging into the house with the audacity of someone who thinks they still have rights here.
That's when she sees me. Her eyes widen, her mouth falling open in shock, and she points at me with a shaking hand.
"See? I didn't even kill her! She's right there! "
Something snaps inside me, a wire pulled too tight finally breaking.
Before rational thought can intervene, my fist is flying toward her face.
My knuckles connect with her nose, and the satisfying crunch of cartilage breaking echoes through the entryway.
Liora screams, stumbling backward, her hands flying to her face as blood pours from her nose in a crimson stream.
Milo shouts my name, grabbing me around the waist and dragging me back before I can land another hit.
Fury courses through me as I struggle against his hold.
"Why the fuck would you kill me?" In my head, it was always some sleeping powder or some bullshit in the donut I ate before I tumbled down the stairs.
However, there was some doubt that maybe I was wrong.
Like 0.0005% but I know now that my hunch was right.
Liora sneers at me through her hands, blood dripping between her fingers and staining her dress. "Because I could have my happy ending! You were always in the way, always taking everything from me! You won't find anything in the goddamn autopsy or whatever. It's foolproof."
Duske steps forward, danger radiating from every line of his body. "What are you talking about?"
Liora's voice rises to something more shrill and frantic, her words tumbling out in a rush. "You were supposed to be mine! All of you! But you only ever looked at her, only ever wanted her! She didn't even have a scent! She was defective! And you still chose her over me!"
Milo's grip tightens around me, and my struggles cease.
My body sags against him, anger still burning hot beneath the surface but now mixed with something else.
Sadness. Pity. My sister killed me because she was jealous, because she couldn't have what she wanted, and that's all it took for her to end my life.
“You're pathetic,” I push out.
Liora's eyes flash with anger as she takes a step toward me, clearly ready to escalate. But Duske moves in front of her, blocking her path.
"Get out. Get out, and don't come back."
Liora stares at him, her chest heaving with emotion, before she runs out the door, Duske on her heels.
The house falls silent for a long moment, tension hanging thick in the air.
Milo's arms loosen around me, and I pull away from him, my hands shaking with residual adrenaline as I stalk toward the stairs.
Vesper calls after me, but I don't stop.
My feet pound heavy on the hardwood as I climb, needing to get somewhere that feels safe. Milo follows right behind me, his presence comforting even as I push into my room and slam the door with more force than necessary.
Pissed off doesn't begin to cover what courses through me. Beyond pissed off. Furious. All this anger has nowhere to go, no outlet, and it's consuming me from the inside. My hands move frantically, pulling things out of my closet, a mixture of old blankets, pillows, and clothes before I drag them into the corner. It takes me too long to realize what I’m doing, my very first nest built out of anger and helplessness that I couldn’t do more to show Liora how I felt.
But that doesn’t matter now. I just need to surround myself with comfort.
The pile grows as I build it, stacking and arranging with increasing desperation.
Then the shift happens. One second my hands grip solid fabric, and the next they're slipping through the air.
My form disappears, becoming fully ghost again, translucent and insubstantial.
Frustration mixes with anger as I grimace.
"Fuck," I mutter, staring at my translucent hands.
The worst part isn’t that my nest is unfinished.
It’s that in this state, I can’t feel it.
The comfort I wanted is out of reach, tears gathering in my eyes as I wonder why fate had to fuck with me a second time.
At first, while I was alive, I thought I was defective.
And now? I still can’t even be a real Omega and do all the little Omega things I want to because I’m not even human.
The door jiggles, the faulty lock only keeps him out for a moment as Milo pushes it open, the way his slitted orange eyes meet mine telling me he can see me even in this state. Milo steps into the room and closes the door behind him with a soft click. "Tell me where it all goes."
Tears prick my eyes as I look at him. "I just want to be held, Milo. Fuck the pillows. I can’t even touch them like this."
His expression softens immediately, every sharp edge melting away.
He starts to transform, the change slow as the air seems to ripple in front of him.
His tail comes back into view, swishing behind him, his body shifting next, muscles becoming more defined as his clothing falls away. Then my eyes meet his.
Except he doesn't have eyes. Not human ones, anyway.
A pumpkin head stares back at me.
The carved face is intricate— a jagged mouth and hollow eyes that somehow still convey emotion despite being empty sockets. Hope radiates from him, vulnerability evident in the way he holds himself. He's waiting for my reaction, braced for fear or rejection.
But fear is the last thing coursing through me. Mesmerization takes over.
This demon with the pumpkin head and strong, muscular body is oddly sexy. Something about him is raw and real, and the way he holds himself—uncertain, waiting for my verdict—makes my heart clench.
I step forward and curl into his chest, my translucent form pressing against his solid one. The steady beat of his heart thumps beneath my cheek, and it's enough. "You're perfect, Milo."
His sigh comes out deep and relieved as his arms wrap around me. "I was worried you'd be scared."
I shake my head, burying my face deeper into his chest. "Never.
" I stay like that for several seconds, drinking in his warmth and his sandalwood scent. There’s even a hint of pumpkin that is wholly him, though, something occurs to me, and I pull back slightly to look at him.
"Your love of pumpkin—is that more like cannibalism? "
Milo laughs, the sound bellowing through my room.
The carved mouth moves with the sound in a way that should be unsettling but isn't. "No, I can do anything, but I really like pumpkins.
I don't really have a head, not like the other two, so I can be anything.
I could put on a face, but that's boring. "
A giggle escapes me and I sag back into his hold, letting him support my weight.
His purr starts up, a mixture of his demonic energy and the Beta class he fit best into when he came to Earth.
It’s softer than Vesper and Duske’s but stronger than any Alpha I’ve ever met, the sound vibrating through his chest. He walks me backward before slowly lowering me into the nest. In this form, nothing is tangible except Milo, but it's enough. He's enough.
"I've always loved this form. I get to tag along with Vesper and Duske, create havoc when needed.
And I've always loved playing a scarecrow on Halloween, terrifying people and hearing them scream.
" He pauses, his energy shifting to something a little more mischievous as his tail moves to slide up my thigh. "But I like your other screams better."
I frown, tilting my head up to look at him. "What? I don't scream."
Milo grins, the carved lips of his pumpkin head extending up and outward in a way that's almost terrifying. The mouth stretches wider than it should, like a dark cartoon come to life, but I love it. "Yes, you do. When Vesper is inside you, you scream such delicious sounds."
Heat floods my cheeks, and I swat at his chest. "Oh really? Should we call him up here to help me make those sounds for you?"
The carved mouth turns down in a frown. "I don't need his help, Esme. I can do it."
I gasp as he grins again, the pumpkin's carved lips extending even further. There's something darkly playful in the gesture, almost terrifying to watch, like a nightmare manifesting in reality. But I love it. I love him.
Fuck.
I love him.