Laundry Vampire
—EDEN
Ihave officially lost four tank tops, two cardigans, and my favorite dress so far this week. At first, I thought I was losing my mind. Pregnancy brain, I told myself. But four tank tops? Two cardigans? And my favorite dress?
No. Something is happening to my wardrobe. And I have a sneaking suspicion it has everything to do with the way Sage’s pupils blow wide every time I ask him about it.
“Sage!” I pull open another empty drawer. “Have you seen my green sweatshirt? The soft one?”
“Green sweatshirt? Never seen it,” he calls from the bathroom.
“You told me two days ago how good it looked on me.” I narrow my eyes at the doorway.
“The, ah, details are hazy.”
A second later, he walks into the bedroom. His gorgeous, green wings half-tucked against his back to clear the frame. He looks so majestic—too bad he’s a liar.
“You look very beautiful in many things, luváel,” he murmurs, his voice dropping into a low, raspy register in a blatant attempt to distract me. “Perhaps it’s in the wash?”
“Nothing’s in the wash.” I cross my arms. “Because there’s nothing to wash, since my laundry is apparently being eaten by tiny clothes-eating gnomes.”
His wing gives a sharp twitch, and he clears his throat, a purple flush creeping up his neck.
“A mystery indeed,” he mutters.
He is a terrible liar.
Normally, this is when Ash would chime in and tell Sage to quit lying, or make a filthy comment about my clothes looking better on the floor. But he’s been silent for three days now.
I miss him so much. I can’t help but wonder what this pregnancy will be like if he doesn’t come back.
“Eden.” Sage cups my face in his warm hands, his thumbs tracing over my cheekbones. “He’s going to come back,” he says, as if he can read my mind.
“I know,” I lie.
Sage’s eyes soften, a ripple of sadness and understanding passes through the bond. He presses a long kiss to my forehead, white poppies blooming throughout his hair. “Rest now. Let the gnomes worry about the laundry.”
“I know it’s you!” I yell up the stairs.
“It’s who?” Sage calls down.
“You, Sage! That’s who!”
I stomp up the steps, ignoring the way Nook hums with a guilty vibration. It has been six days—six days of watching my wardrobe vanish into thin air.
When I reach the top landing, the bedroom door is wide open. His lips are sealed over the chest section of my favorite sweater, his cheeks hollowing as he draws on the fabric. My jaw drops as I catch him in the act.
“You,” I breathe, pointing a finger at him.
“You’ve got the wrong idea. I just pulled these out of Droot’s paw.”
Big Bird is a liar. Droot giggles, pulsing a neon shade of yellow.
“Big Bird is a liar,” I agree.
His grip tightens as he buries his long green fingers in the fabric as he tries to subtly shift his giant thigh to block a sprawling structure in the corner of the room.
“What is that?”
It’s a nest. A literal, beautifully woven, five-foot-wide nest made entirely out of my missing clothes, soft blankets, and stolen pillows.
“Eden,” he stammers. “You… should not be walking up the stairs so quickly. It’s bad for the baby.”
“Do not ’bad for the baby’ me, you giant laundry vampire!” I walk closer to the nest, looking at every single detail. “I knew it! I knew there were no clothes-eating gnomes! Look at this! You’ve been hoarding my wardrobe like a dragon!”
“It is… a highly efficient storage method,” he murmurs. The vines on his chest tightly furl into defensive balls. The tips of his pointed ears turn as pink as they can atop his green skin.
“You are literally juice-boxing my sweaters!” I gesture wildly to the crunchy-looking sweater in his hand. “They look like dried-out husks!”
He glances down at the sweater with those giant, mismatched eyes, looking thoroughly embarrassed.
“My body demands it,” he admits sheepishly. “When I smell the níva on your clothes, my instincts take over before my mind can stop them. I need to consume it, Eden.”
My irritation dissolves when I feel him brace for my disgust.
“Sage.” I step inside the nest and trail my fingers over one of the silken blankets. “You could have just come to me.”
His eyes snap to mine. “What?”
“You didn’t need to steal my clothes. If your body needs it… you can take it from me.”
His pupils swallow the lavender and gold of his irises until there’s nothing left but black. The vines on his chest bloom open in a violent rush of color.
“Eden, you are carrying our vúsha. Your body is already giving her everything. I will not take from you too—”
I take his hand and press it over my heart. “It’s not taking if I’m offering. Nothing of ours goes to waste, remember?”
A growl escapes his throat as he hoists me off the floor, his wings sweeping forward to guide us both down into the massive, laundry-filled nest he’s spent the last week building. He braces over me, lavásia floating through the air, his eyes fixated on the top button of my dress.
“Luváel,” he groans as he drops his head to my chest. “You smell so sweet. Like wild honey. It’s been so hard to keep my hands off of you the last week.”
My body responds to him, a tingling sensation builds in my chest until drops of nectar begin to leak, soaking through my white dress.
He seals his mouth over the wet fabric, sucking the golden liquid straight through the cloth.
My dress clings to my breast as his tongue presses hard, drawing more nectar out of me.
“You feed me with something no other body could ever make.”
His hips grind against me, the hard length of his cock rubbing back and forth over my thigh. He’s so heavy, and all I can think about is how I want the weight of him to crush me.
“More,” he growls. “I need more, Eden.”
He tears my dress open. My buttons scatter across the nest as he dips his head, taking my bare nipple into his mouth. A guttural sound fills the bedroom, and his wings snap open behind him.
“Vresh, Eden,” he gasps against my skin.
My fingers wrap around the edge of his wings as they arch over us. “I want you,” I moan. “I need you.”
Another shudder rips through him. He switches to my other breast, his tongue swirling hungrily over the leaking nectar before his lips seal over my nipple.
Every greedy pull sends a tremor through his muscles.
His cock throbs against me, leaking steadily as he grinds harder.
A whimper vibrates against my breast as he drinks deeper, his hips bucking in short, frantic bursts.
The vines around his torso twist, sliding down to coil around my waist, pinning me beneath him while others stroke restlessly over my hips.
“Eden.” His hands hook under my thighs, hoisting me up until I’m aligned perfectly with him. The broad head of his cock catches on my clit with every roll of his hips. “You taste so good. You’re driving me insane.”
My fingers claw helplessly at his shoulders as he teases my nipple with his teeth.
“Please—inside, Sage,” I moan. “Now.”
The heat inside his wings is suffocating, a thick haze of gold surrounding us.
My mind feels like it’s starting to melt.
His wings lower, and I catch a single curl of black smoke bleeding from his back in the mirror across the bedroom.
The shadow writhes, pressing flat against his spine, quivering with a starving hunger.
Ashán.
“Sage—wait,” I gasp as his hips drive forward again.
He lets out a frustrated groan against my neck, his hands tightening on my thighs as he fights the urge to slide into me. His eyes are completely glazed over. “Eden… please… no more waiting.”
“Sage, look!”
I cup his jaw, using every ounce of my strength to lift his heavy, sweat-sheened face away from my chest. “The mirror! Look in the mirror. He’s there!”
He freezes, his chest heaving against mine, eyes snapping toward the glass.
“There’s nothing there, ílyara,” he rasps, pressing his forehead against mine. “He’s still gone.”
“What? No, he’s not.” I push against his chest, and Sage’s hands flex against my thighs, eyes flashing with a possessive glint as he struggles to let me go. After a moment, his grip loosens, and I slide out from under him.
“He was right here. I know what I saw.”
I blink past tears, staring blankly at my own reflection. I know what I saw… it was real. Silence stretches between us, broken only by the soft, wet tap of níva hitting the floorboards. The heat of Sage’s body bleeds into my back as his hands settle on my hips.
“Eden, look at me.”
I can’t tear my eyes away from the glass, begging the shadow to reappear.
“I felt him, Sage,” I whisper. “He was reaching for me. He was right there.”
His thumbs stroke over my hipbone.
“I believe you,” he murmurs, pressing tiny kisses along the curve of my neck. His wings wrap around my body. “I want him back too, ílyen. We will find him. I swear to you, we will bring him home.”