Page 25 of An Inheritance of Monsters

I slowly turned around, facing the monster from my closet.

I saw nothing, of course. The darkness was complete.

But, like a match being struck, two pale fires kindled to life in the dark.

Shadows twined around my legs, creeping up my thighs. I let my backpack slip off my shoulders and fall to the floor, and carefully dropped my flashlight next to it.

“Do not fear. I won’t let you be lost,” the monster whispered to me, those white fires sparking. “You don’t need light when I am here.”

I nodded, and held up a hand, imploring him.

His palm met mine. He was as warm as Rask, his skin silky. I ran my fingertips over the unlined palms, then upwards.

And found his claws, each sharp as a razor.

The monster held very still as I touched his hand, but when I moved on to his wrist and arm, my other hand rising to find him, the presence of his shadows tightened around me.

“I’m trusting you,” I whispered back. “So trust me. I am not afraid.”

A breath later, the shadows relaxed, resuming their careful exploration of my body.

I ran my hands up his arms, feeling the hard planes of muscle. Unlike Rask, he was completely smooth-skinned, but he had the same powerful build.

I soon ran into his broad shoulders, my heart pounding so hard I was sure he could hear it.

Those fiery eyes gazed at me, and then I felt his arms move. His hands touched my shoulders, ran down my arms.

Claws delicately stroked over the tendons in my wrist, and back up. One trailed across the line of my clavicle, and stopped.

It was my turn… my hands explored a broad expanse of chest, then I slid both hands up towards his neck.

He breathed quietly as I stepped closer, having to reach high.

I felt the defined ridge of his jaw, and finally…

I wasn’t sure what I was feeling. One moment, my hand seemed to be entering nothing at all.

The next moment, I felt full lips, the proud, straight ridge of a nose, sharp cheekbones…

And finally the smooth expanse of his skull, crowned with horns.

My fingertips moved over them, following the curve of hard bone. They swept back over his head, slightly ridged.

I paused, and he stiffened, as though waiting for me to run screaming.

But I only rested my hands on his shoulders. And waited for him.

He reached up. Claws lined my lips, thumbs grazed my cheeks, and finally his fingers ran through my hair.

He twisted his hands, making a low noise when the strands slid out of his grasp.

We were standing so close together that I felt his breath hitch.

He let out a low growl as my hands began to move again—this time, downwards.

I only went so far, trailing to the hard ridges of his stomach, before stopping myself.

But there was a breath-taking thrill that went through me so intensely, the intimacy of touching a monster in the dark, that made me want to keep going.

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