Page 31 of Mortis

The shadows making up his hair seemed to lengthen and spread, flowing across his skin like living smoke. They swallowed his horns, his chest, his fur-covered legs. Just as I was about to ask what the hell was happening, the darkness dissolved. A human man stood where the monster had been.

A very muscular, very naked, human man.

“Fucking hell!”

The clinical waste bag slipped from my hand and hit the floor with a dull thud. My hands flew over my eyes. And because I was only human—a very gay human—I separated my fingers and peeked through the gap.

Gone were the horns, the claws. Gone were the black sclera and drifting smoke. Thick black hair now hung past his shoulders. His eyes looked almost normal, save for the faint reddish tint lingering in the irises. His legs were entirely human too. No fur, no hooves. Just powerful thighs, toned calves, and feet that looked capable of crushing mine by accident.

And between those legs, nestled in a thatch of curly black hair, was a cock. An extremely large cock. Uncut, veiny, and perfectly in proportion to the rest of his body.

“Where were you hiding that weapon?” I blurted.

Kael frowned. “I do not have a weapon.”

“That thing between your legs should absolutely be classified as dangerous.”

He glanced down, then back up, still confused. “Why would my penis be dangerous?”

I could physically feel my face overheating. At this point I was probably the exact shade of a fire engine.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“It seems to matter to you.”

“It doesn’t.”

“It clearly does.”

I shook my head aggressively. “Where were you hiding it before?”

Kael straightened and placed his hands on his hips. Unfortunately, that somehow made the situation worse. “It’s concealed within a pouch beneath my pelt.”

“Right.” I nodded. Then kept nodding. “Yep.” Another nod. “Every day’s a school day.”

Kael waited patiently. I pointed at him, then towards the door, then back at him.

“I need to get you some clothes.”

“Why?”

I stared. “Because you’re naked.”

“Is it wrong to be naked?”

“Kael,” I barked.

He visibly perked up at the sound of his name. “Yes, Teddy?”

“Please stop making this harder than it already is.”

I glanced at Kael for what had to be the hundredth time in the last few minutes and cringed. Not because of who, or rather what he was.

Because of what he was wearing.

We kept a box of unclaimed belongings in the storeroom. Clothes, shoes, and random personal effects left behind by the deceased and never collected by their families.

Looking at Kael’s outfit, I could understand why.