Page 12 of Veradel
“But they still follow your commands?” I ask carefully, curious.
“Yes. They can’t disobey a direct order of mine unless they’re willing to fight me, but I can’t actually dictate their muscles like they’re puppets—not that Vivian would evenwantto disobey any request involving clothes.” He chuckles and gestures at the various items. “Which one do you want to wear?”
“Oh.” I blink at the closet. “I can pick?”
His amber eyes burn into mine. “Of course. You have a choice here, Saskia.”
“Oh,” I say again, blushing at how stupid I sound, even to my own ears. “Okay, well…” I pass over the elaborate dresses with a shudder. I never want to wear something so extravagant again. And the simple pants and shirt remind me too much of living in the city of Xantera, forced to wear the same thing day after day. Instead, my eyes flutter to a simple white slip with thin, lacy straps. It reminds me of my nightgowns, free and flowing.
I’ve always felt most comfortable in the night, anyway.
“That one,” I say confidently, nodding at it.
Lucan doesn’t need to be told twice. He maneuvers himself back on top of me, slipping the silk fabric over my head. Then he carefully pulls my arms through, and before he pulls it down over my hips, he bites my glute gently, sending a flurry of butterfly wings through me.
He bends down, the front of his body flush with my back, and brushes my hair away from my neck.
“Okay?” he asks after he kisses me below my ear.
I nod into the mattress. “Okay.”
“Good. So now that you have clothes—” He flips me over, runs his hands down my waist, and scrunches his nose in disappointment. “—what else do you choose?”
My desire blooms from the deepest part of my heart, desperate to fill in the blanks, settle the internal debate of my imagination.
“I choose you. And I want to see you…” I trail off, running the tips of my fingers underneath his own clothes to get a taste.
Lucan pulls his shirt off the rest of the way, and my mouth can’t keep up with my brain. If I had known thatthiswas on the receiving end of the necklace all along, I probably would have been too busy salivating and stumbling over my words to even get to know him. So I’m glad I didn’t. I’m glad we got to know each other mind-to-mind before we finally get to explore each other body-to-body.
Now, I want him in every possible way I can have him. My heart thrums. My greedy hands explore everywhere. But a seed of doubt still lingers in the back of my mind, as if the male before me can’t possibly be the same one who helped me through the catacombs or listened to me talk about my mother or helped me through my last nightmare.
So before I have him this way, I want one more thing.
“I want to see you in your other form. As the Monster,” I amend.
For a moment, Lucan goes rigid, staring at me as if I’ve just uttered some kind of curse—or prayer. I wish I could read the thoughts racing through his mind right now, but I won’t be able to. We won’t be connected in that way again unless he shifts.
In a flash, Lucan grabs both of my wrists and pins them above my head. His nose hovers inches from mine.
“Are you sure?” he asks, voice dangerously low.
“Of course.” The synapses of my brain snap insatiably as I press my lips to his, then trail across his jaw and down the corded muscles of his neck. I stop over his pulse and nibble his hot skin. “The monster in you is the same monster in me.”
And I need to finally face the beast we were always taught to fear.
Lucan nods, then drags me off the bed. “Outside.”
“Why?” I protest helplessly around a laugh, even as a bolt of exhilarated fear shoots through me when he tucks me into his chest with that strength I can’t comprehend.
“You’ll see,” he warns.
Once he deposits me barefoot on the soft ground somewhere on the outskirts of the ghost town, the nip of fresh, chilled air shocks me to my core. It’s so much more… free here. A soft breeze invigorates my senses, waking up every nerve in my body that isn’t already ignited as it whistles through tree branches.
Lucan backs up, and my excitement simmers within me. I wrap a tight fist around the vial of my necklace. Waiting.
He stares as if testing me. Like he’s waiting for me to change my mind.
But after a few long ticks, Lucan’s shoulders jerk. Every part of him elongates right in front of my eyes: his spine, his arms, his legs. Coarse, dark fur sprouts all along his body, intercepted with streaks of golden brown, just like his hair, and his ears rise until they’re two sharp spikes on top of his head, just like horns. His mouth widens, more canines ripping from his gums, his nose melting into a snout. Even more muscles swell, bulging from arms that hit the ground like anchors, massive claws tearing into the ground at our feet.
