Chapter 7 Ezra
Ezra
I linger outside the bar, a predator in the dark, the shadows wrapping around me like sinew to bone. She was always going to leave after I pulled her too close.
And now, something ancient stirs.
I want her scent in my lungs. Her heartbeat in my teeth.
The need pulses through me, savage and unrelenting, louder with every step.
I was built for this. For her.
Being close to the little goddess was … strange. Every living thing gives off an energy vibration. Humans call it an aura. And human energy? It all feels the same. Even the so-called “sensitive” ones barely register a difference.
But Aurora’s energy? It’s too human. Too fucking perfect. So solid, it almost feels rehearsed, like something wearing humanity like I wear a face.
Something isn’t right.
My instincts are never wrong. Human energy means human. So why the hell am I questioning what I felt when I was near her?
The memory of her freckled skin against my shadow makes me shiver. But I force the reaction down. I must remain focused. Be vigilant. I must make sure the human gets home without incident.
A few moments later, Aurora stumbles out of the bar, looking shaken, flushed, and grumbling softly to herself. I follow her home, slipping through the shadows, the predator in me locked onto her. Her scent winds through my lungs, thick with warmth and something untamed.
Something I need.
The more I breathe her in, the more my restraint unravels.
When she stops to look around, I melt deeper into the shadows. This woman—this human—has almost made me reveal myself more than once. All because of the way her body calls to mine.
While I sit in the shadows, I scan the area.
No one, man or monster, lurks in the darkness tonight.
Good. I can turn my focus back to her.
She grumbles about a new kink, and I chuckle in the shadows, proud to be her monster.
Of course I can read her. Perfectly.
Although I suppose the scene in her book helped a little.
If she thinks anyone would turn down a request from her, she’s delusional. Aurora has no bloody clue how powerful she is. Men and women would fall to their knees, begging for the chance to please her.
Me included.
What I wouldn’t give to indulge every single one of her fantasies. My red handprint on her perfect, round ass. Her body tied up, writhing, begging me to let her come. Maybe the little human would be interested in voyeurism.
Would she like to watch?
Or would she like to be watched?
Mine.
The word carves itself onto my mind, bloody and absolute.
It doesn’t matter if I worship her like a god, fuck her into madness, or consume her like a monster—she belongs to me.
No one else deserves to touch her.
No one else is fucking allowed.
If I caught anyone laying their hands on her flawless skin or running their hands through that shiny, coppery hair, I wouldn’t hesitate. I’d rip them limb from limb, burn their remains on an ancient pyre, and let the wind carry their ashes to places forgotten by time.
But if she wanted to suck my cock in front of a crowd?
I’d gladly let her. A goddess like her should wield her power at every opportunity.
And what’s more powerful than a woman on her knees, a man at her mercy, his climax resting in the palm of her hand?
Or, in this case, resting deep in her tight throat?
Shit, I’m hard again.
Touching myself does nothing; it only makes it worse.
I shift into my Umbraeth, hoping the shadow will dull the ache.
The hunger settles, but it doesn’t fade.
A few minutes later, we arrive at Aurora’s house. I pause in the driveway while she unlocks her front door and steps inside, her windows blinking alive with warm light while she busies herself around the house.
As I near the little cottage, Aurora’s whiskey-warm voice drifts through me, and a sudden pang of jealousy squeezes my shadow.
Who the fuck is she talking to in such an endearing tone?
Does she have some shitty human boyfriend?
Fine. I’ll just kill him.
But then the clink of kibble in a metal bowl, along with a soft woof, floats through the kitchen window.
Fantastic. She has a dog.
This … could be a problem.
Dogs are perceptive little shits, and by the sound of Aurora’s one-sided conversation, hers is already on to me.
Fuck.
I could kill the dog.
Problem solved.
But … that would upset her.
And the thought of making her sad? It curdles something black and violent inside me.
No, I have a better plan.
I’ll wait in the forest, shift into my Tesem, and charm the beast. We could become familiar, maybe even friendly. That way, I can come and go as I please.
Patience is easy. I’ve had billions of years to perfect it. So, I settle into the dark, hidden beneath trees and shadows, and wait for Aurora to let her dog out.
When the door creaks open, my heart slams against my ribs like a goddamn kick drum. Aurora looks stunning in her baggy pajamas. I’ve never seen a more beautiful creature. I just know her body is perfection under those loose clothes.
Christ, every time I’m near this little human, my mind wanders. I must take care of the dog first, then I can focus on Aurora.
Her mutt hesitates.
I wouldn’t step outside either if I knew something like me was out here. But Aurora convinces the beast, coaxing her into the night.
What did she call that overgrown furball? Louie?
Fine. Whatever. Now the mutt has a name—a truly fucking stupid one.
As Louie lopes into the woods, I allow myself a moment to study the goddess.
Her hair is piled in a messy bun on top of her head, and her eyes are wide as she surveys the forest.
Is she looking for me?
I rip a branch from the nearest tree and snap it in my hands to gauge her reaction.
Aurora’s heated gaze instantly lands on me in my Umbraeth.
She’s responsive. Oh, the fucking beautiful possibilities.
Once she’s back inside, I reluctantly return to my task of convincing the massive mutt that I’m not a threat.
Shifting into the Tesem, I rush off into the woods to intercept Louie.
I’ve charmed dogs before—just to slip into their owner’s bed—but it’s cumbersome. It’s too much effort when there are plenty of humans without mutts guarding their doors.
But this isn’t about convenience.
Aurora is different. She belongs to me.
And that means I have to charm the fur off this overgrown, drooling bastard.
I track Louie as she sniffs along the road, nose to the ground.
She’s onto me.
I creep closer, my shadows curling toward her, but … pause.
The energy. It’s wrong. Off.
Not the usual warmth of a dog—no gentle pulse, no steady rhythm of a mortal heart. I felt this once before. And I swore if I ever crossed paths with it again, I would cut and run.
Shame I’m too stubborn for that.
A normal dog’s energy is simple. Warm. Steady.
Louie’s? Hellfire. Wrath. And death, buried deep.
What the void-loving fuck? How did Aurora end up with a hellhound?
A few thousand years ago, I crossed paths with a hellhound amid the thunder of chariots on the killing fields of Kadesh. If I hadn’t shifted into my Umbraeth, the colossal beast would’ve torn me in half.
That was enough of a lesson to steer clear of hell-beasts.
Hellhounds drag lost souls back to Hell. But they’re also protectors. The ultimate “touch her and die screaming” companions.
I’ll need to approach this creature with a steady hand and a gentler touch than usual.
My typical don’t-give-a-fuck tactic might get me eviscerated.
I could stay a dog. Try to charm her. But hellhounds are smarter than that. And I’d rather not get disemboweled for the attempt.
So, I shift back into my L?kkda and clear my throat to get Louie’s attention.
The hellhound’s head whips toward me so fast I swear I hear her spine crack.
I flash the hell-beast my biggest, brightest smile, hoping I strike the perfect balance between deadly and friendly.
“Well, hello. It’s Louie, right? I thought I was aware of all the underborne in this area, but it appears I’ve not had the pleasure of meeting you yet. My name is Ezra Aster. I own the bookshop in town.”
She’s either going to speak … or go straight for my throat.
When the hellhound relaxes enough to sit, she cuts me with an intense glare. A soft “woof” jumps from her throat, which makes me chuckle.
Oh, she thinks I’m an idiot. How quaint.
“Now, now, Louie. I think we’re past that, don’t you?
Shall we stop playing this ridiculous game?
I see you, hellhound. Been tracking me since your mistress got home, haven’t you?
I’m trying to be civil here, which is an entirely foreign concept to me, by the way.
I am willing to be patient, but only to a point.
I wish to speak with you about passage into your home. ”
Maybe if I act humble, she’ll play nice.
What? I can do humble when I feel like it.
Which is almost never.
Still, I’d prefer to keep all my flesh intact today.
Aurora, for reasons I’ve yet to understand, adores this creature.
That’s reason enough to hold my hand.
It doesn’t mean I won’t offer violence. Only that I won’t act on it.
“Shall we talk, or shall we bleed?”
A grin splits my face, razor-edge teeth gleaming as I step forward.
Louie quickly calculates her chances—she is rather small for a hellhound—and snorts before responding in a strong Cockney accent.
“Alright, asshole. What d’ya want with Aurora?”
Well. That’s new.
I’ve never spoken to a hellhound before. I figured they just growled and ripped out throats.
This night keeps getting stranger.
And I find myself … delighted.