Rage (Her Monsters Book One) - K.A Knight Page 0,5

unashamed even naked and covered in her own blood as she is. Her eyes watch me, not in horror like everyone else, but calm and filled with... lust?

Gracefully, I lower myself into my crossed legged position and tilt my head to watch her. She mirrors my pose, her rose coloured nipples peeking through her curtain of hair. She is pale, paler than the moon's rays shining down on us. Her lips and nipples are the same colour red. Her beauty is timeless, striking and breathtaking. In my early days, they would have wrote songs about her, they would have worshipped her beauty and begged for a taste. Even I am not unaffected, my long since dormant need rises to the surface with a vengeance, screaming at me to take this creature, to make her mine, and fuck her in a way only a divine creature of lust, fertility, animals, and the underworld can. I have been called many things, god, monster, even savior, but I would go by any name this creature in front of me whispers from those red plump lips. I wonder if she sounds as enchanting as she looks. I have the insane urge to converse with her, just to see if it is true, but my voice is rough and my throat does not seem to want to utter words, so long unused that the concept is foreign.

While I have been watching her, she has been watching me, and instead of flinching away from my appearance, she seems curious.

“What are you?”

Three words, I savor them, running her velvety voice through my head as they burrow into me, claiming parts of me I didn’t know existed anymore.

“A monster,” I reply, my raspy, unused voice like the darkness around us, powerful and all-encompassing, my power leaking out like I am a young shifter, not one a thousand years old. What is it about this creature that fascinates me so and causes me to lose my infamous control?

“You are beautiful,” she says softly, running her eyes over me again.

Frowning, I look down at myself. I have been called many things in this form, horrifying, too powerful to behold, a creature of nightmares, but never... beautiful. Her mind must have been warped from the trauma of her mortal body dying. Yes, that must be it. Now if she had seen my human body, I could agree with her, that form is pleasing to the human eye and hides my monstrous side, while allowing me to walk among the humans, even if I can’t blend in. Humans can sense the power. Besides, an almost seven foot man does not fit in well.

I still when she crawls towards me, that body moving in a mesmerising way before she sits close enough to touch, a soft delicate hand flutters over my left arm, my eyes snap to the creature, as I realize she has shifted closer to me, her petal soft hand touching me. I have killed beings for less, but I find myself leaning into her touch, seeing what she will do.

“What are they?” she muses, running her hand along my torcs which I have tied to my arms, tired of holding them. I don't answer, too busy watching her pale fingers against my dark skin. Where I am the shade of wet soil at harvest, she is the color of white sandy beaches. Her hand runs up my shoulder and along my face, trailing a sensual path until she reaches my head and then circles my antlers, making me shiver. More torcs hang from them but she seems more interested in touching my antlers.

“They are like a deer’s,” she murmurs to herself before her fingers run back down my forehead and circle my eye. “So bright, like the moon has been trapped in them, there isn't even any pupil, they’re just... white.”

I sit completely still as she discovers my body, not wanting to break the spell in case she runs screaming, or worse, pulls away. My body likes the feel of her touching me, leaning into her like the flower does to the sun. Her fingers run along the cool metal of my ornate neck ring and down my wide chest, circling the golden markings on my skin. Her fingers stop and she sits back, and I find myself missing the heat of her skin. She touched me so delicately, like I am something precious.

“Is this your form? Like I am human? You must be something else,” she asks, crossing her