Page 21 of Mortis

“Delicious,” the Beast rumbled.

The word emerged unbidden from our lips, and the mortal trembled. Yet strangely, he didn’t scream. He didn’t fight. In fact, he barely made a sound at all. There was only the frantic rhythm of his heartbeat.

Slowly, the Beast lifted our head, and blue eyes met ours once more. Wide and afraid. But not entirely. There was something else there.

Something like . . . curiosity.

The mortal’s gaze moved over us piece by piece. Our eyes. Our hair. Our chest. Our horns. It was analytical, as though he were attempting to solve a puzzle. It didn’t seem to matter that a monster had him pinned against a wall. Or that he was one poor decision away from becoming prey.

He wasn’t looking at us the way mortals usually did.

He wasn’t searching for an escape or praying for mercy.

He was studying us.

Studying me.

The realisation sent an unfamiliar warmth through my chest.

For decades, I had been feared. Hunted. Whispered about in stories. I had seen every variation of terror imaginable. No one had ever spent their final moments trying to look beyond the monster.

Yet this small mortal did.

He looked at me as though I were something fascinating rather than horrifying. Something worthy of understanding. The feeling made me want to straighten my back and puff out my chest.

To present myself properly.

It was a ridiculous impulse, and yet I had to fight to suppress it.

For this mortal to behave so differently from every other prey I’d encountered . . .

I found that I liked it.

The Beast grinned, revealing two rows of razor-sharp teeth, and I felt the mortal’s throat bob beneath my palm as he swallowed.

“Your plump flesh will undoubtedly be satisfying.”

“Plump?!” the mortal squawked.

The Beast ignored him entirely. He lowered our head, preparing to close our jaws around the mortal’s throat. Ready to snuff out yet another innocent life. The life of the only being who had looked at me with something other than horror.

I couldn’t allow that.

With every ounce of strength I possessed, I seized hold of the Beast’s consciousness. A trick I had learned from Him.

What do you think you are doing? He demanded.

A snarl tore from our chest and the mortal flinched. But still, he didn’t scream.

You gave me until dawn, I snapped back, tightening my grip. We had a deal.

I pulled hard, trying to drag myself back to the forefront. Naturally, He refused to relinquish control without a fight, and the struggle made our head jerk sharply to one side. For the briefest of moments, I managed to break His hold. My fingers loosened around the mortal’s throat, and my claws released his shirt. The human dropped to the floor with a startled grunt.

I wanted to apologise.

Instead, the Beast surged forward once more, attempting to drag me back beneath the surface.

“Are you okay?”