Page 65 of Peacock Me Like a Hurricane

For me, Rafe’s constant presence in my life has become an essential part of my existence. Even when I was lost and confused, trying to figure out why I needed him by my side, he never once triggered any alarms or set off any red flags. And now I understand why, because he effortlessly bypassed all of my defenses and burrowed himself deep into my heart without me even realizing it.

This clone has never wanted anything from me. I don’t have to make him whole—that’s her job. Rafe doesn’t need me to fix him or make him better. He doesn’t need me to run after him, pick up for him, or feed him. He doesn’t want me to be anyone but who I am.

Whether I’m a giant snot ball in his arms, playing hide-n-seek, listening to music next to each other, or tying him down to the bed, it doesn’t matter to him. I only need to be there—that’s enough. What he always wants is me. I missed that along the way, and it feels important. It feels like something I’ve screwed up. Hell, maybe Wilde has, too.

Rafe will never admit that I did anything wrong, but at this time of revelation and heat and want, I’m going to set it right. I’m going to fix that slip of the teeth that lead to mating with him ‘by mistake’ and the ensuing fall out afterwards. I’m going to show him what he means to me and give him everything I am.

That will fix everything. Wilde will do the same to fix his mistakes with Victor and Alistair.

Now’s the time. He’s completely unfettered, and we canownhim now. We can have him the way we always wanted to if we take advantage of what’s being offered here.

The cat will follow. It’s perfect.

“Friend of my body,” I whisper as I kiss him softly. He’s noticed a subtle shift, but he doesn't react. “Mirror of my spirit, complement of my mind—I am yours for now and all time.”

His expression doesn’t change, but I feel tension in his frame. Perhaps he’s nervous that I will claim this is an accident or magic induced fancy again. Settling over his hips, I slide over him until we’re joined. That familiar rush hits me and somewhere inside, a voice says ‘hurry, for it’s soon to be gone’. Rocking my hips slowly, it takes everything in me not to out-and-out ride him into oblivion.

I want to say a few things before we tumble. “You’ve never wanted anything other than to be with me and that is truly the greatest gift anyone has ever given me.” I kiss him again because I can’t help it. The howl is building in my toes; I feel it. “While I may have fucked this up in the past, I will always want to make it right.”

“You haven’t?—”

My fingers shush him. His first words since he mentioned Shiva are unnecessary. Fangs firmly in place, I show him that I am sure. I drive my teeth into my mark and the points of my canines slice through like butter. His blood fills my mouth and I revel in the taste.

Everything is blown apart in panting, thumping, grinding, and blood. Whoever I was and whoever I’m going to be are wiped clean by this act. His belief, his trust, and his love will remake me into a better person.

When I am with him, I’m always stronger.

I hear him scream over my growl, but I need more. I pull up, waiting for his fangs to emerge. They don’t come and my growl becomes angrier, needier. I feel the spirit of Kali echo in mind, whispering what I need to do to make Shiva ready to fulfill my desires.

Tearing my fangs out, I gnaw and rip and tear a bit. He snarls, able to hold back until I take a claw and puncture his left nipple. The ripples happen andthereis my mate. His eyes are golden and expression fierce as he tears into my neck. I return the favor with zeal, bathing in the flow of his essence.

My howl vibrates against the skin in my mouth, but I don’t let go. Suckling like our lives depend on it, we buck and pound out our ecstasy. When all is said and done, I lick his wounds closed.

Rafe holds me quietly—his demon gone and fangs retracted—as I come down. He knows I’m going to want to hunt and howl, but breaking the circle would be bad. He kicks up that familiar rumble in his chest to soothe the coyote into staying in place.

Shiva fades from his mind, but Kali stays with me. She whispers plans and prophecies, what will be and what can be, and how I can shape the future of my world. Oh, I was so right in choosing her over everyone’s objections. Kali is making music in my mind and the coyote likes the song. Wilde will be so pleased when he hears what I have learned.

We will take our family back and the world will fall at our feet once more.

I like the words she gives me and I love that she’s planning to hang around. I could use an inner monster like Kali to keep me on track.

The Flower Meets Her Match

LILY

I’ll admit it; I was nervous about this.

For as long as I can remember, I have identified as a neo-pagan. But my knowledge of Deli revealed to me that she is a devout wiccan through and through. That’s a bit too fluffy and whimsical for my liking. Believing in the sun, moon, sky, and nature? That resonates with my scientific soul. But dancing around with a wand and casting spells? Not so much.

Witches have a different way of connecting with deities than someone like me. I cannot fathom speaking to mythological beings as if they hold sacred powers bestowed upon them by the heavens, like a hippie version of the Bible.

I worried that my disbelief would taint her important moment.

To be honest, my concerns began from the start because of her other “helpers”. We had a former Christian of unknown denomination, an ambiguous individual, an Atheist, and a droid programmed to believe in its own magical abilities. I was skeptical because only Deli held true beliefs.

I can’t understand why someone as intelligent as her would even have such faith. Deli is one of the few people who can keep up with me intellectually. She rarely requires emotionalsupport from me. I always ground her when she starts to veer off course—until recently. And yet, this newfound faith healing has nothing to do with me, I know that much. She has always proudly claimed the title of witch and rejected the garish portrayals seen in movies.

It seems a tad hypocritical now, but maybe it’s because what has been hyped as her belief system is absolute garbage. This stuff might seem fluffy and goofy to me, but perfectly in line with tradition to her. Having grown up Irish Catholic, I can empathize with crazy rituals in the name of faith.

---