Chapter Twelve
I step out from the silhouette of the trees, confused as to what I’m seeing. The snow crunches with every step, my deep, rushed breaths causing my shoulders to rise and fall.
Anger spreads through my chest like a hot blaze, my green skin darkening from the flush.
Lula isn’t supposed to see this. She isn’t supposed to be here!
No one was supposed to see into the most shadowed corners of my mind.
I have locked these memories deep within my mind.
I don’t even dare to go where they can be opened.
They sadden me.
“What are you doing here?” I growl at her, staring at the small, weak version of myself clutching my mother. “You aren’t supposed to see this!” The memory fades away, leaving us standing in the backyard of what used to be my home.
My parents’ blood stains the snow. The broken glass still lies there, reminding me of the fear on my mother’s face when my father pushed her through the sliding door.
I hate this memory. It is the one that shaped me into who I am.
Into what I am.
“I don’t know.” Lula stands, holding snow where my teenage hand used to be. “I saw so much of your childhood.” She lifts her eyes from the bloodied ground, filled with tears.
“Don’t waste your tears on me, Little Dream. I am not worthy of them.”
Lula runs to me, his hair dancing over her shoulders with her movements, snow sticking to the strands.
Lost memories.
“Not worthy?” She stands in front of me, stretching her arm to touch my face, but she can’t reach—not even when she tries to stand on her tiptoes.
I bend down when I realize I crave her touch—even if it is due to pity.
Her fingers skim the rough hide of my green flesh, tracing the edge of my jaw. Lula’s eyes soften as her gaze darts all over my face, lost in contemplation.
I grunt in response, finding the rage and violence drifting away from me as her fingers explore me.
“Mmmm,” I hum, a peace settling over me for the first time in ages.
I lean into her palm, pushing my cheek closer into her hand. I want more of the sweetness that doesn’t deserve to touch me.
It’s been so long since I’ve experienced a touch that was filled with care. I forgot what it felt like—what peace feels like.
“You deserve good things, Shade. You’ve been punishing yourself all these years?”
I close my eyes, knowing I had to do what I had to do to survive, but the entire point of survival was saving my mother—and I failed at that.
“You did what you had to do. You were just a boy.”
I fall to my knees in front of her, still slightly taller, and she has to stretch to reach me.
“A boy who loved his mother, who wanted to save her, and she wanted to save you too. She always wanted to save you. I noticed that. In all these memories, that was the common denominator.”
My hands fall to Lula’s hips, her small frame appearing so fragile in my embrace. I’m so much bigger than her; it’s astonishing she’s able to take me and survive.
“If there ever came a time where I couldn’t save you, death would be my only answer at peace,” I say, relaxing when her hands glide down my neck to my chest.
“Death isn’t the answer for everything, Shade.”
“It is when it comes to you,” I state, a guttural purr vibrating from me as she caresses my abdomen.
My stomach clenches from how sensitive I am. My muscles tremble, my cock awakening from the delicate touch. I can’t believe how good she feels. Her touch is the only peace I’ve ever felt—I’ve ever known.
And if anything, that terrifies me the most.
What if someone tried to take my peace away from me? Tried to take her away from me?
I would go on a mission to kill everyone in the world. Death would fear me for the destruction I’d bring to the world. The idea of peace would no longer exist. I would pull the world into a dystopian nightmare. The rivers would run with blood, and the oceans would be red from my madness.
“You are beautiful,” she breathes in wonderment, continuing to explore the body that belongs to her.
“I am a monsterrr,” The nightmare possesses my voice, the vulnerability shaking the words.
I’ve never felt more exposed.
“No.” She steps closer, sliding her soft fingers across my collarbone, then up the thick muscle of my neck. “You are mine.”
My skin reacts to her words, to being claimed by a woman who deserves a better fate than me.
There isn’t hope for me. I can’t change.
I am violence. I am murder.
I am the bringer of sorrow and pain.
I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Except for when it comes to Lula. She is the exception. I want to be more for her. I don’t know if it’s possible.
Even right now, with her hands on my body, exploring with awe and fascination, I want to have her bleed for me.
How can an animal like me overcome the catastrophic urge to bring her pain?
“You’re so massive,” she compliments, dragging her palm down my bicep.
I watch her face, completely enamored by her own will, her own want, to touch me and get to know me.
“It’s the rhino,” I explain, wishing my dream would take us anywhere else but here.
She shakes her head. “No, it’s you. You must have been a big guy before the experiments happened.”
I nod in agreement. “I was, but I wasn’t like this. I can’t remember what I looked like before,” I say with a shoulder shrug.
She reaches for the horn, pausing as her eyes meet mine. “May I?”
I lower my head for her to reach the horns in the middle of my head. “I’ll never say no to your touch, Little Dream.”
Her eyes soften, filled with care and love. Probably not the type of love I feel for her already—being my mate—whatever that means. I know it’s significant. I feel that in my soul. There’s no other for me.
I love her more than the fear I taste when I kill someone in their dreams. I’m not sure she could ever feel for me the way I feel for her.
Her lithe fingers drag from the base of the horn, skimming up to the point. Lula wraps her hand around it, studying it with more enthusiasm than I ever felt for my new features.
I moan, my eyes closing from how good her hand feels. I had no idea my horns were sensitive.
“Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t know—” She pulls her hand away, and I snag her wrist before opening my eyes, staring into her light brown irises that remind me of a darkening sunset.
“Don’t stop. I love your hands on me.” I lift her hand to my horns again, wrapping my arms around her waist to lift her up so she no longer has to stretch. “Explore all you want. I am yours,” I state with no room for argument.
Her hands skim over the top of my head, tracing the veins and roots that are part of me now.
“Do they hurt?” Lula’s fingers are back to rubbing the horns.
I shiver, the sensations traveling down my spine to my cock. If she keeps touching me like this, I’ll be taking her in the dream too. We’re locked together in reality. My teeth have sunk into her body, keeping me against her with nowhere to go, so she drains me of every drop.
“No, especially right now,” I say, lowering her back to the ground. Her body dragging down mine, and I’m able to feel every soft curve of her. “You’re cold,” I notice, wishing I had a jacket to give her.
Our frozen breaths mingle as we stare at one another. Her eyes fall to my lips, and I become nervous. I’ve kissed her before. I’ve taken from her. I’ve done things no man should be proud of—to her.
It’s a good thing I’m no man.
“You’re gentler here,” she whispers, tapping my temple. “When I’m in your mind. Why?”
“It’s the only place where a part of who I used to be lives,” I answer honestly. “I wasn’t a good man though, Lula. I killed then just as I kill now. I was part of a motorcycle club. I was the enforcer. I did things that you would have arrested me for—that you could still arrest me for.”
“I don’t think my cuffs will fit,” she giggles, using both of her hands to lift one of mine into the air because I’m so big. “It doesn’t bother me—what you do. I notice your pattern. You kill people who do bad things, I don’t disagree with that.”
I lift my pierced brow. “Most cops would.”
“I’m not most cops.” She raises her hand again, touching my piercings along my brow and nose.
“I’ve noticed.”
“I love your rage. It thrills me.”
“I’ve seen your tattoo,” I growl, wanting to see it again.
Lula blushes, breaking our gaze in embarrassment. “I got that when I was nineteen. I thought I was so clever, but it still fits.” She nibbles her bottom lip, grinning.
My fingers slide under her chin, forcing her to look at me again.
“It does. I can smell when you’re scared and underneath that delicious scent that feeds me—” My voice deepens at the thought “—there’s the delectable aroma of lust. Like when you were in the alley that night looking to save someone, I could smell how aroused you were. ”
She inhales a sharp breath, eyes wide, her scent shifting to embarrassment that has a strong sharpness to it. It almost hurts to breathe in.
“That was you? You’ve been following me since that day?”
“I discovered you that night,” I answer, tugging her against me. “The moment I scented you from the woods, I knew I’d follow you to the ends of the earth.”
To my surprise, she wraps her arms around my neck, her eyes once again falling to my lips. “You broke into my house?” she asks.
“I broke into your house,” I growl in satisfaction.
“I’ve climbed into your bed. I’ve fucked you with my roots.
I’ve studied the cases you’re working on and took care of them for you.
I’ve filled your fridge.” I wrap a hand around her throat, bringing her face closer to mine.
“And I’ll continue to kill the people from your case files.
I need to feed, Lula. My nightmare demands fear. ”
“What if I helped you?”
To my surprise, her lips find my neck in a bold move I wasn’t expecting. My eyes roll to the back of my head when she places a gentle kiss on my jugular.
“Help me?” I rasp, tilting my head back to give her more access to my throat.