Page 26 of Dead & Dating
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 likepumpkins. 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.
Chapter 16
Milo
