Page 7 of Ghouls and Girth (The Knottiverse: Halloween Monsters #4)

Khalid

Her floral, sultry scent invades my nostrils and hijacks my control. My human eyes roll to the back of my head while unblinking ghoul eyes snap to the tiny female.

Mine.

My brother’s seed belongs on her. It is right.

But not enough.

Ours.

She needs my scent dripping from every pore.

With supernatural power, my ghoul strips away every ounce of my control. I watch through glazed human orbs as he shucks off his robes and glides across the room. Despite my reluctance, I unbuckle my belt and open my trousers with steady hands as we approach the tiny female.

Wordless, primal recognition flows through me. I sense the connection between the curvy country bumpkin and Umar but have no way to describe it other than that it’s different than the bond between brothers but no less intense.

I need him. He needs us.

We need her.

Now.

Pearly white fluid drips from my cock and splatters onto the floor. The low, animalistic growl emerging from my chest lifts my hackles.

My brother tilts her head toward me.

Fury rips through me. We don’t want her mouth. We want her sopping pussy.

I slash his chest as I shove him away and toss her onto the ritual table. Her shocked cry ends as she lands flat on her back. Too deep into feral need, I slice her shorts off her, nicking her thighs and hips in my haste, and tug her across the table by her waist.

I pin her knees to her ears and fit the head of my cock to her entrance.

White-hot pain blasts through my skull.

I snarl, swing, and grow more furious when I catch only air. Agony flares up from my wrist as cruel digits pop and burst the boils of my curse.

Teeth close around my fingers. My vision clears and reveals bewildered honeyed eyes piercing straight into my soul as her tongue flicks over the tip of my middle finger. Despite the hunger glazing her eyes, she bites harder and tries to turn away.

I knock Umar’s hand off my wrist, grab my partially inflated knot, and press the tip of my cock to her lips. Sticky warmth smears over my flesh. Her breath washes over my length. Chills race up and down my spine.

I slide my grip along my veiny shaft. Viscous fluid spurts from my tip. A few drops sneak past her lips, but most dribbles down my shaft. I use my precum as lube and find my first bout of pleasure as she watches with wide-eyed horror.

My seed floods her mouth and splashes onto her face, coating her tongue, cheeks, nose, and eyes. I snarl in debauched amusement as pearly white drops cling to her lashes.

It isn’t enough. I hook my fingers behind her bottom teeth and force her jaw open. Crimson seeps from my digits from her bite.

Our souls merge with a sickening snap. My head spins as her wants, needs, and fears invade my chest.

Her hunger matches my ghoul’s.

I cram my cock into her mouth and die a million glorious deaths as I drain my balls into her tight, wet heat.

More. We need more.

My blood joins the crimson smears already in her hair when I close my fist in her locks.

The other masculine scent no longer belongs. She is mine. I will not share. She marked me.

I will rut, knot, and complete our bond. All other males are competition. It no longer matters how much history lies between my brother and me or the promises we made to each other.

Even as I mentally scream in denial at my ghoul’s betrayal, he jabs his talons through my brother’s stomach and gives a vicious twist of his wrist.

Black sludge and crimson blood erupt from the puncture wounds. The stench of alpha aggression overrides all else as we descend into madness.

Words cease to exist. Humanity cannot reach me here. The world consists only of the need to kill and claim. My ghoul’s instincts become all-encompassing until pale flesh flashes along our periphery.

We chase the naked omega and snatch her off her feet as she grabs the handle of the ornate stone door.

Her scream bounces off the walls and echoes down the stairs into the crypt.

We press her against the stained-glass window and wrap a human hand around her delicate throat.

She bucks and writhes, rubbing her breasts and pussy against us.

It isn’t enough.

Gripping the back of her thighs with gnarled white digits and fitting the head of our dick to her entrance with ruthless human hands, we tighten our grip on her throat and tease a talon over her nipple.

Her pussy flutters around the very tip of our cock. We hiss and tilt our hips, burying another centimeter between her sopping wet folds.

The tight ring of her opening squeezes us to the point of blissful agony. Liquid fire surges from the base of our spine, bypassing our balls and knot, and spurts into her clenching hole.

Unable to resist the sweat glistening on her brow as the sconces dance through the stained-glass window, I lean down and lick her temple.

Fireworks explode along my tastebuds. Masculine and feminine pheromones invade my senses, the mixture so potent and perfect I sink into a deeper state of instincts.

I thrust my hips. Pain and pleasure roar through me as tight, wet heat envelopes the top half of my shaft. Slick and seed coat my thighs. My knot pulses. I tilt my omega’s head to the side and lean down to bite the well of her shoulder.

She jerks her leg and jackknifes against the window.

Her soul splits again as a new bond forms.

I snarl and swing my gaze to the floor.

Umar sits with his shoulder propped against the wall and his teeth in her calf muscle.

Clarity smacks me into the present.

My brother.

Shame dulls my lust as I realize how deeply I betrayed him.

I threatened to take my life if he touched the human female with The Sight only to attack him after I had my first taste of her.

My knot deflates. Slick and seed grate like coarse sand as I yank my cock out of her pussy. Her wounded sounds pique my alpha instincts, but I drop her like carrion and step away.

Umar grunts when her leg slips out of his weak grasp. He lifts unfocused eyes.

Fuck. Both his human and his ghoul lack their normal alertness. His entrails remain within his torso, but dark red liquid stains his entire lower half, and a slice on his upper arm gushes blood.

Exhaustion unlike any I’ve ever known hits me. I sway on my feet before dropping to my ass. My legs tangle with my brother’s.

Unnatural darkness creeps along the edges of my vision. I grunt and wrap my hands around whatever part of Umar is closest as my body falls limp.

A mouse scurries along the floor. Stone scrapes against stone. Cats meow and crickets chirp.

“Khalid, we must get up and claim our omega,” my brother says.

For several heartbeats, I know I must be dreaming. Umar has not spoken a full sentence in six hundred years. For over half a millennium, his responses have been limited to one-word answers and grunts.

But the quality of the words changes as I replay them in my head.

Adrenaline surges through me. I lift my lashes and blink the haze from my eyes until I confirm the truth.

On death’s doorstep after I attacked him because he filled our omega’s belly with his seed, smug satisfaction glimmers from Umar’s darkened orbs.

“Bring our omega back, brother. We must both knot and mark her for her to be ours for eternity,” he demands.

Although roughened from misuse, his voice is exactly as I remember. Unbidden tears drip from my long, dark lashes. If my ghoul could cry, he would, but instead he swings unblinking eyes to the floor under the stained-glass window.

The empty floor. No omega lies in a ruined heap on the stones.

The open doorway mocks me.

Our omega ran away. A trail of seed, slick, and blood leads out into the night.

My brother’s words replay in my mind.

I must bring the curvy country bumpkin back.

She is ours. We need her.

Now.