Page 4 of Snapdragon

The other is a beautiful wisp of a woman, with glorious translucent wings sprouting from her back. Her skin is tinged a pale blue and she wears a structured white pant suit. She flicks her long blue hair over a shoulder, looking at me with disapproval in her glare.

OK, then.

The photographer introduces himself as Benedict. I’ve heard of his work before and I compliment him on a recent magazine shoot he did.

Benedict bows his head lightly, “I didn’t expect you to be familiar with my work. My humblest gratitude, my dear.”

A low vibration begins behind me, or at least I think that’s what it is. Turning to see what it is, I am greeted with a wide expanse of chest, clad in a loose white shirt. I need to look up to see this person.

It’s him that’s making the noise, almost like a growl of sorts. He doesn’t look impressed, to say the least.

“Flora, my dear,” the growl becomes more intense, “this is your co-star for the day. Please let me introduce Sebastian Orville and his team. Sebastian, this is Florence Augustine.”

I use the time Benedict is speaking to look at Sebastian. He is large. Deep brown skin, shoulder length black hair hanging loose around a face framed with structure. This man did not need the contouring that I did.

His eyes are a bright, glowing green, his pupils slit like a cat. If not for his size, the true giveaway that this is not a Human is the scales. Patches of varying sizes stand out beneath the shirt, almost looking like tears across his skin. They’re black with a sheen of the same green as his eyes, he even has some on those high cheekbones.

A hand gently prods my elbow, and I cringe, realizing I have been staring too long. Benedict is looking at me expectantly.

“Sorry,” I falter over my words, “I think I missed what you said.”

“No worries, I was directing you to move forward here.” He guides me to my marker.

Benedict spends a bit of time figuring out how best to work with the height difference between Sebastian and I.

I’m not a small woman, I am 5’7” and I’m not skinny by any means. But Sebastian dwarfs me. I had a friend in college that was 6’3” and even he would look short compared to Sebastian.

I watch as he is directed by Benedict to stand a good bit behind me.

“I will use forced perspective, I think.” He mutters to himself. I smile and gently giggle at his utter lack of preparation. I glance at Sebastian to share my smile and lighten the mood, also just to look at him more.

He catches my glance and immediately looks away, his strong brows furrowing. He scowls at the gray-skinned man, who seems to sneer in response.

The rest of the shoot goes pretty much the same way. We’re not directed to actively look at one another at any point. Anytime I actually did look his way, he was pointedly not looking at me.

I don’t let my disappointment show on my face, or I at least try not to. Now that I’m here, I’m not sure what I expected from the Monsters. I mean, they seem pretty normal, if a little rude and grumpy. But I’m not exactly getting that once in a million lifetimes excitement level that I was expecting.

That being said, I am not letting my guard down for one second. I’m painfully aware that I have my back to a well-honed killing machine. Sebastian could definitely take me in a fight. I wouldn’t stand a chance. Let’s be real, there wouldn’t even be a fight.

My breath quickens at the thought, and I feel a pulse of heat go straight to my pussy.

Nope. Not now, absolutely not. I’m not letting my guard down, remember?!

I can’t help but look back at Sebastian again. He’s not looking away this time. Our gazes meet for a moment and there is an intensity there that I can’t quite seem to figure out. A muscle ticks in his jaw and I don’t know why that has suddenly become an incredibly attractive thing for a person to do.

“That’s a wrap!” Benedict calls out. “Great work, both of—” He is cut off as Sebastian storms out of the room, no attempt at any kind of subtlety. The two other Monsters follow suit and the door slams loudly behind them.

I’m startled right out of my strange thoughts. Fuck, what is wrong with me?!

“Thank you, my dear. You did lovely.” Benedict pats my shoulder. “I wish this could have been a nicer experience, but we made do.”

Plastering a smile on my face, I shake his hand. “It was a pleasure to work with you, Benedict. Perhaps we will do so again in the future.”

With that, I turn and leave the set quickly. I race back down the hall to my dressing room, my fingers trembling as I open the door.

My wardrobe assistant is inside, ready to take my clothes back and I nearly sob right in her face. I need some time alone right now to process. I don’t get it, it’s not like anything particularly dramatic happened. My body is telling me a different story though, as I try to hold still through my tremors.

I feel wrong. Like a part of me is missing.