Page 78 of Mortis
My thighs settled either side of his furry legs. His hands instinctively found my waist, while I looped my arms around his shoulders, absent-mindedly combing my fingers through the smoky strands at the nape of his neck. A quiet hum escaped him.
“What happened?” I asked.
His body went rigid, and his claws pricked through my shirt just enough for me to feel their sharp tips.
Resting my forehead against his, I lowered my voice. “What scared you, Kael?”
He sucked in a sharp breath. “I—I can’t—”
The words caught in his throat. He choked out a frustrated, wounded sound, as though language itself had abandoned him.
I kissed his cheek.
“Don’t worry,” I murmured. “You don’t have to tell me now.” Then I leaned back just enough to meet his gaze. “But you are going to tell me when we get home.”
Kael’s shoulders slumped. Whether in relief or resignation, I couldn’t tell. Either way, he nodded, and I rewarded him with a quick peck on his soft lips.
Or at least, it was supposed to be a peck.
As I pulled away, Kael chased me for another kiss. Leaning against his warm chest and surrounded by the familiar scent of woodsmoke, I didn’t have the heart to deny him.
Our mouths moved together in a dance we’d spent far too much time practising. Neither of us tried to dominate the other, we just gave as much as we took. And when Kael’s forked tongue brushed my lower lip in silent request, I relented, groaning softly as it tangled with mine. My fingers tightened in his hair, and Kael answered with a pleased rumble, one hand sliding down to cup my arse. I instinctively pushed back into his palm, earning a firm squeeze that sent a shiver racing down my spine.
The slam of a door somewhere else in the building shattered the moment. Reality came crashing back, and so did my headache.
There was a body lying on the embalming table behind us.
A body waiting to be prepared.
A body with a bloody symbol carved into its chest.
I broke the kiss. Kael let out a disappointed whine, but I held firm. Still, it made me smile as I peered at him through crooked glasses. The colour had returned to his face. His cheeks were flushed a delicious shade of pink, his lips swollen from our kisses, and his heavy-lidded eyes looked far calmer than they had moments before.
“I want you to go home.”
He started shaking his head, already preparing to argue. I stopped him by placing a hand over his mouth.
“No,” I said firmly. “You’re going home.”
Whatever protest he’d wanted to make came out as a muffled grumble beneath my palm.
“I need to prepare Mr Simpson, and I can’t do that while worrying about you.” I softened my voice. “Because I am worried about you.”
His pleading eyes never left mine, but I couldn’t let him stay. Not with that symbol sitting a few feet away. Not after what it had done to him.
“I’ll come home as soon as I’ve finished with the embalming fluids,” I promised. “But I can’t leave Mr Simpson for another day. So I need you to go home.” I rested my forehead against his. “Watch Tokyo Ghoul. Have a bath and use every one of Arlo’s bath bombs if you want. Help yourself to whatever snacks he hasn’t squirrelled away in his room.”
A quiet huff of laughter escaped him.
“There we go.” I smiled. “Go home and relax until I can join you, okay?”
After a long, reluctant sigh, Kael finally nodded. I removed my hand and brushed one last kiss across his lips, pulling away before he had the chance to deepen it.
Sliding out of his lap, I steadied myself as he rose with me. Thankfully, the dizziness had started to pass. Without me needing to ask, shadows curled around his body. A heartbeat later they melted away, leaving him back in his human form, clothes restored and his hair neatly tied back. Keeping myself between him and Mr Simpson’s body, I guided him out of the embalming room and towards the front of the funeral home.
Thankfully, Grandad and Arlo were both occupied, so nobody questioned why Kael was leaving early.
At the front door, I pulled him into one final, final kiss before pressing my house key into his palm. “Go straight home, okay?”
