Page 43 of Interlude

“They don’t have names. They are me, and I am them.” I know that sounds like a bunch of mystical crap, but it’s true. They are just different aspects of my soul.

“Okay, they are Baby Z One to Nine.” She touches each of them, numbering them one through nine as I watch on with amusement. Each of them have slightly different colors, so it isn’t hard for her to tell them apart.

“What does the Z stand for?” she asks once she gets to the end. All nine of them find a space on the ground and get comfortable. They will return when I want them to, but they’ve been cooped up for a long time, so they deserve a break.

“I am Zeydan,” I tell her, sitting down on my chair, willing my cock to go down. I see her mouth my name, and I am instantly craving to hear it out loud.

“I’m Lila,” she says even though I already know this much.

“Well, now that I’ve shown you mine, are you going to show me yours?” I wave a hand, and she nods.

“I guess it is only fair, but I will be naked when I change forms, and this dress won’t fit me.”

I may be a god, and a benevolent one unless crossed, but I am also a male, and I am not going to complain about seeing my mate naked for the first time, nor am I going to do the right thing and offer her my cloak—at least not straight away.

“Your naked form is not going to upset me in the least,” I tell her calmly, my rumbling tone betraying that I’m not as calm and composed as I seem. She playfully rolls her eyes at me, and I feel her acceptance.

Her form shimmers, covered with a sparkly purple mist, and I see movement within. Her body starts to grow bigger, as do her proportions as her wings, tail, and horns shrink and disappear. When the pretty mist fades, it’s all I can do not to swallow my tongue. Lila is curvy in all the right places, with generous breasts and ample hips built for holding onto when you slide deep into her pussy. Her long, multicolored hair drapes down her back, hiding her pert cheeks from my view, and her pretty pink nipples are peaked. I’m dying to lean forward and take one of the hardened buds into my mouth, but I hold myself back. She is unaware that she is my mate, and despite the attraction mark on her shoulder, I want to earn my place by her side. I will ensure she can rescue her grandma.

I bend down and retrieve my cloak, holding it out for her. She snatches it out of my hand with a relieved, “Thank you.”

She pulls it around herself, and I watch her hold it up to her nose and breathe in deeply. I can’t stop myself from purring my approval, knowing that when I get it back, it’s going to smell like her too.

“How many forms have you mimicked?” I ask her, trying to relieve the small amount of anxiety I still feel coming from her.

“I have Celestian, Barcoa, earth and fire elementals, a necro, Rilaxian, warlock, Aquilian, and Madovian.”

“Madovian? They are a repulsive species. That was one of the last ones Vivax created, pouring all of her jealousy and malice into it. They would not be an easy race to assimilate.”

She wrinkles her nose and shakes her head. “They aren’t, but one of them was being paid by the Syndicate to infiltrate the circus. We are hoping to use that form to return the favor after we rescue Grandma Lily,” she explains, and I run a hand over my smooth chin. I’ve never grown any facial and body hair, none of us gods do.

“That isn’t many forms,” I point out, and she shrugs.

“I also have mates, which have given me more options. I have a kraken shifter mate, which allows me to access their form, a Vilaxian mate, and I drank from the blood goblet which changed me into part Vilaxian, and two lightning cat mates. My other Skarrian power is a whisperer, and I can shift into cat form as well. I have assimilated nanotechnology from my cyborg mate also.” That’s a little better. I would prefer her to have more forms, but we have time to rectify that. Like the Aaz’axian cord I saw joining them, I also saw one linking Lila to the damn dragon who kept circling us today. They think I didn’t see him, but it is hard to miss an object that big in the sky.

A whisperer power—another supposed long-lost power. “Have you tried controlling any other kind of shifter?” I ask her, knowing that lightning cats should not be the only animal she is able to control. I was there when Lilessa created her Skarrian race, and we all added our own input into the kind of powers they may contain.

“No, is that a thing?” she asks, her eyebrows rising in question.

“Yes, Lilessa made it so that a whisperer could help any kind of shifter. That’s what the power was originally meant for—helping them with their emerging shifting powers. Fluxx and Skarr are so closely linked because both were created by the goddess of life.”

“So you’re a god?” she asks, changing the subject from her back to me, and I can see she has questions.

“Yes, I am the earth elemental god. Lilessa was the goddess of life, and Vivax was the goddess of death. Then we had Sanshia, who was the goddess of fire, Tito, the god of water, and Markit, the god of air. I have not seen my co-elementals for many years, and we have no idea what happened to Lilessa or Vivax.”

“And your powers were stolen?” She’s trying to make sense of the story I told her.

“Yes, and one of the two missing goddesses is involved. We’re certain. Which one, I do not know, maybe both of them, and I have no idea how they did it. It should not be possible. All four of us were diminished in power.” I grit my teeth as the anger and betrayal that had grown numb over time rears its head again. I clench my fists in an effort not to take it out on my mate. “When we get to the bottom of it, the perpetrator will pay. We searched high and low for both of them, but their power signatures disappeared just after the war. It was like they both ceased to exist. That’s why I was shocked when I thought I felt a spark of it in you.”

“And you were at the bar, hidden in the corner, concealed by your cloak. You’ve known who I was this whole time?” she asks, sounding dismayed as she comes to that realization.

“Yes, I have, but it was amusing watching and listening to you all scheme.” I try to reassure her, but I don’t think it works if her glare is anything to go by.

“Are you going to help me?” she asks, cutting to the chase, her eyes narrowing with her anger. I like seeing her like this. It is much preferable to her earth elemental form, which was weak.

“Of course I will. All you had to do was ask. Shall we stop this ridiculous charade of harvesting fruit?” I ask her, and she grimaces.

“You already killed Oak. Poor Elm is going to be down three more harvesters,” she argues, and I scoff.

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