Page 74 of Nightshades

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 herbefore. 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.”