Chapter Fourteen-Conrad
The woods were black velvet and silver moonlight, every branch and shadow a familiar part of my body.
I moved through them without a sound, without a single leaf or twig betraying my presence.
In this skin, my scales drank the night.
The cold air slid along my length as I wound silently between the trees, the rhythm of my muscles a steady, patient pulse.
Her scent was everywhere—sugar and sweet vanilla blended with hints of citrus, and that soft, unmistakable thread of magic that made my instincts sharpen and soften all at once.
I could hear her before I saw her, though not in the usual way.
She didn’t know it, but her magic sang, a quiet hum through the ground and air.
Each note was a breadcrumb leading me closer.
And there she was.
Bella.
Standing just outside the clearing now, robe loose around her, hair mussed from the wind, skin still glowing from the ritual fire.
She was laughing with her friends, but it wasn’t the same laugh she gave when no one else was watching.
That laugh—her real laugh—was for the rare moments when she let herself be unguarded.
I wanted that.
I wanted all of her.
I curled tighter into the shadows, unseen.
Her hearing might be sharp, but I was sharper.
Scales didn’t rustle.
My Python’s body barely displaced the air.
She could have been surrounded by a dozen creatures, and I still would’ve been the only one to slip past her notice.
I stayed just inside the tree line, where the flicker of the moon caught on my pattern.
Watching her hips sway when she shifted her weight.
Watching her tug her robe a little tighter, like she could guard herself against the night—and me.
She thought she could keep me at a distance, keep me locked out of whatever walls she’d built.
But I’d been waiting my whole life for her, and I had the kind of patience only a predator knew.
I could wait another night.
Another week.
But not forever.
I let my tongue taste the air—warm skin, baked sugar, and a trace of lemon from whatever she’d been working on before the ritual.
Goddess, she smelled good enough to swallow whole.
Soon.
I could picture it already. Standing close enough to feel her breath hitch, close enough to tuck that stray hair behind her ear, close enough to cup her jaw and make her look at me—really look at me—and see that I wasn’t letting go.
Please, Bella. Let me in.
My coils shifted over the moss, silent as breath, and I followed her retreat down the road from the clearing, never more than a few paces back.
Guarding.
Worshipping.
Counting down the minutes until I could do it up close, my hands on her instead of just my eyes.
For now, I’d take this—shadow and distance and the privilege of watching her move through the world like she didn’t have a man in the dark who would burn it all down for her.
Even though she did.
See, I was that man. Her man. The only one created specifically for the purpose of loving her.
And one day soon, she was going to know it.
Yesssss. Mine.