Page 34 of Prince with a Chance of Darkness

The guy was hung.

Weirdest sex dream ever.

Not that I was complaining. Sex was something I craved all the time since Romania. Just one more thing on my list of strange urges I’d woken with. I tried my best to channel it all into pummeling supernaturals with my fists, not my hips, but even I had limits. Willa thought I was reckless and boy crazy. She might be right, but it was that or go mad.

“Lumini?a mea.”

Dream Guy’s voice filtered over me. Whatever he’d said left me going toward him, but not in an aggressive way. Everything was jumbled, and when it cleared enough for me to focus, I found myself being held by the man, my mouth pressed to hisneck. As I opened my mouth to bite him, I jerked away fully, my heart racing.

My hand flew to my mouth, where I found my fangs—a lovely gift from Romania—were out.

Panic filled me, and I hurried from the bed, out of the room and to the bathroom. Thankfully, it was unoccupied. I rushed in and opened my mouth, looking in the mirror.

Yep.

My fangs were out.

They weren’t as big as the vampires I ran into and slayed, but they were fangs all the same. And I’d just dreamed I’d used them to bite a guy.

My eyes widened.

Nope.

Never in a million years would I do that.

There was a knock on the bathroom door, and I nearly jumped out of my skin.

“One second!” I said, my voice shaky as I stared in the mirror again, trying to will my fangs to go away. They didn’t.

“I’m going to pee my pants!” shouted my sister.

Relieved it was her and not one of our other roommates, I tossed the door open.

She shot by me and ran for the toilet.

I closed the door and faced her. She proceeded to sit on the toilet and peed, because nothing was sacred between us. She glanced up at me, adjusted her glasses (that she didn’t need in wolf form, thankfully) and narrowed her gaze on me.

“Are you fangy?” she asked.

I groaned. “Can we call it something else?”

“Dental erections?” she offered.

I flipped her off and spun to face the mirror again. I touched my right fang. “It won’t go down.”

“Why are they even out?” she questioned, finishing up on the toilet.

I thought about lying to her, but gave in and told her the truth. “I was dreaming, and when I woke up they were out.”

She flushed and then pushed by me to wash her hands. “What kind of dreaming? Tell me you weren’t going on a murder rampage or something. We have enough issues with me once a month.”

I tapped the end of my fang and blushed. “Uh, nope. Not a murder rampage.”

She watched my expression by way of our reflection in the mirror as she dried her hands on the towel near the sink. “I’ll ask again. What kind of dreaming?”

“The semi-erotic kind,” I confessed.

Her eyes widened. “Holy crap, dental erections are right!”

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