My unwanted Lycan mate.
Club.
**
His touch both consoles and devastates me. I feel my heart pulse, then wither, naked as a stone on the roaring mattress while the lovely full moon night slides through the window to dapple the flanks of this innocent who makes cages to keep the sweet birds in. Eat me, drink me; thirsty, cankered. I go back and back to him to have his fingers strip the tattered skin away and clothe me in his dress of water. This garment that drenches me, its slithering odor, its capacity for drowning.
HER
I sat in the kitchen eating.
“Good morning,” someone greeted me.
I looked up into the eyes of beta Scott.
I replied, “Good morning.”
“Sorry for disturbing you,” he said. A very charming smile crossed his lips.
“ No, it’s okay, I am done eating already,” I told him
