Her Psycho Beasts, page 11
part #3 of Her Vicious Beasts Series
“Are you ready, Aurelia?” his hoarse rasp wrenches me out of my Lyle daze.
“As I’ll ever be,” I say, my heart suddenly kicking up its rhythm.
I glance at Xander, who has left his shackles off since our collective near-drowning incident, looking in any direction except mine. I’m sure he is far too curious about this to stay away.
Less than a minute later, Damien arrives, reminding me of a vulture, long-necked and bouncy with his excitement. His eyes find and latch on me right away and I can’t help but notice both Scythe and Lyle subtly shift to flank me.
Damien comes to tower above me, compulsively straightening his white suit jacket, golden eyes glowing. “How do you do it, Aurelia? What do you need from me?”
Lyle growls in his chest, presumably from his over eagerness or overfamiliarity with first name use.
I sense all four males listening closely as I clear my throat. “I just need some of your DNA. I…mean, I just need to touch you in your shifted form.”
“That’s it?” he chirps.
I didn’t know it was possible for a grown beast to get quite this excited.
“That’s it,” I confirm.
Damien nods and turns around, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it off one of the coat hangers on the clothes rack the students use to hang their clothes before they go into the jungle gym. His shirt follows, exposing the unmarked, fleshy milky-white skin of his back. He unbuckles his belt and bends over to pull down his pants.
I narrow my eyes at his white ass before Lyle tugs at my elbow.
“Angel,” my lion admonishes, tugging me around to face him.
I let out a nervous laugh, looking up into those powerful amber eyes, currently simmering with disapproval. “Sorry.”
He reaches out to stroke the pad of his thumb against my cheek, and by the Wild Goddess, I am so distracted by him that I forget why I’m even there. Until, that is, a burst of light and heat erupts from behind me, followed by a high-pitched, ethereal cry that reverberates all around us.
Slowly, I turn around.
My breath catches as I take in my first ever sight of a phoenix. If I didn’t hate Damien so much, I’d admit that his shifted form is breathtakingly stunning.
With plumage of a brilliant, out of this world, glittering red-gold and a wingspan twice the size of mine in eagle form, Damien flaps his wings to settle down on golden claws. His neck is long and regal, a proud tuft of red plumage marking his crown above golden eyes that arrogantly regard us. His tail feathers are fluffy and shimmery, so long they drape across the floor like the train of a king’s coronation cloak. He’s bigger than I expected, his crown feathers reaching my shoulder.
Xander sniffs, making sure to let us all know he’s unimpressed.
Damien ignores him, taking a step forward and bobbing his head to give me permission. Or an order, I suppose.
Lyle’s hand never leaves my waist as he follows me while I reach a hand out to touch the most polite place on a bird—the outside of his wing. Fascinated by the brilliance of the red feathers and the way they glitter with gold, I stroke the feathers of Damien’s wing more times than is polite. It’s not until Lyle clears his throat that I shake myself out of my daze and abruptly straighten, staring at my fingers because I half expect golden flecks to coat them.
They don’t, of course, and instead I feel a slight tingling travelling up my fingers and palm. The sensation continues all the way through my shoulder until it hits my head and then I feel a little dizzy.
Any doubt of my ability to turn into a phoenix abruptly leaves me. With new power flooding my veins and a thread of excitement, I step away from Lyle’s grip and whip off my blouse and unbutton my shorts. Turning away from the men, I kick off my shoes…until I realise I’d put on a bright red G-string this morning.
But I’m already here now.
And if Damien Agnis really wants to see my ass that much, he may as well.
So I give myself a little shrug and pull my shorts down.
I actually feel Lyle’s panic behind me. “Angel, wait—”
And then I slip the G-string off too, kicking it behind me.
With my back turned, hopefully none of them can see I’m grinning madly. Perhaps I am mad, because this whole thing is leaving me flushed and giddy, but there is something flooding my veins now and it feels positively sparkly.
An eagle might have been my favourite form because I’d never considered a phoenix being an actual lifetime option of mine.
I get to be a real life phoenix. The stuff of dreams.
It takes a second of a thought of me shifting into the powerful, mythical bird for it to happen. Maybe I find it easy because it’s so similar to my eagle form, but my face morphs into the familiar beak, my arms sprouting feathers, my height shrinking only a little, my feet forming golden claws. I’m light and airy, hollow-boned and…powerful.
I want to cry. Instead, I look down and angle my newly formed wing so I can see it.
It’s something I’ve never seen before, in books or otherwise: my feathers are brilliant crimson-gold, tipped with an electric blue.
Chapter 21
Xander
Trying to ignore the fact that Aurelia just showed every male in the warehouse her bare naked be-thonged ass, and kicked her fire-engine red thong at Scythe, who caught it on pure reflex, then pocketed it, I turn a critical eye to her shift.
I’ve seen her shift multiple times, into different creatures, but never into a mythic beast. The myth of the Boneweavers is well known to me. It was one of the bedtime stories my mother and uncles used to tell my sister and me as hatchlings. All a Boneweaver had to do was touch a creature, and they’d have the power to turn into it.
And here it was, legend turned into reality before my very eyes. She shifts like she enjoys it. Like the snap of bones and sprouting of feathers feels good to her. That Boneweaver heart beats faster, and there is no fear in her scent. Only…joy. Olive skin morphs into blue-tipped crimson feathers, long raven black hair disappears into a crown of blue.
I restrain a shudder as my dragon salivates at the sight of her, spreading magnificent wings, tilting a delicate head back and letting out a sound of pure delight. I was expecting her to mimic Damien’s form and emulate his colouring and physique.
But I realise this is something much worse.
This is her version of a phoenix.
I half expect her eyes to be that of a serpent’s—slitted and yellow. Instead, they are the same bright blue that marks her for what she is. It’s looking at them now that makes me realise how stupid we all were for not seeing it in the first place. The difference. The otherness.
Damien shifts back into his human form with a swift crunch of cartilage. He gapes at her, stepping forward, apparently at a loss for words. For once.
The Boneweaver girl potters back and forth on her claws, twisting the ends of her wing this way and that as if amazed by the feel of herself.
Next to me, Scythe is not breathing and Lyle’s heart is hammering like some kind of war drum, no doubt fighting his animalistic urge to grab and mount her.
A whisper of bending limbs is all the warning I get before she launches into the sky on a powerful downward thrust. It’s swift but unusually graceful.
Lyle would probably say she looks angelic, with those colourful wings stretched out, sweeping down to propel herself towards the highest treetops. But it’s not until the sunlight catches her body that her plumage turns into living fire. She wheels around the perimeter of the gym, and even when we lose sight of her between the branches, a red-gold light reflects off opposing branches, making it look like she’s setting them on fire.
Damien laughs. It’s a shrill, hacking sort of sound that grates along my ear drums like nails on a chalkboard.
In fact, this entire thing grates along my being like nails on a chalkboard. This feels like something that shouldn’t be allowed. This feels like a power no one should have. On what merit does the spawn of a serpent deserve to have this ability? On what merit does the spawn of a serpent deserve to have such power given to her on a platter?
I glance at Scythe and snarl in disgust as his upturned face stares unblinking at her. My bond-brother’s aura is usually locked tight, a skin of black and white and nothing much more. But now something new flickers at the edges of his impressive body.
He glances at me, seemingly remembering himself.
“That’s enough, Aurelia,” he projects to her mind.
It’s only due to their new agreement that she obeys, immediately banking and wheeling down in wide circles as if delaying her inevitable touch-down. The muscles of my own shoulders bunch in some kind of disturbing solidarity and I command them to stop.
She stretches out her wings as she comes down, backflapping to gentle her landing. I’m so disgusted by all of this that I choose to look at Damien instead—so shocked that he’s forgotten to put his clothes back on.
His golden eyes glimmer, and I can practically see the wheels of his mind turning as his eyes rake across her body. The guy is certifiably cooked.
Lyle stalks, picking up his regina’s strewn clothes and covering her from view. He stands with his arms crossed like her personal bodyguard. She breathes hard and grunts as she shifts back into her human form, the cadence of her heart and lungs deepening as her body grows and elongates. Scythe turns his back to her, presumably to give her privacy.
“We will be leaving this evening,” Scythe says, his hand noticeably in his pocket.
Damien’s head turns towards Scythe, but his eyes take longer to follow. “Very well, very well,” he says absently.
“Put your clothes back on,” I say with heavy disapproval.
Damien’s face twists and he opens his mouth to admonish me, but I’m already walking out of the jungle gym, reaching into my pocket for a joint. I’ll need a couple if I’m supposed to cope with the ordeal tonight.
The evening air is almost chilly as I present myself on the roof of the animus dorm where everyone is waiting.
“Took your time,” Lyle growls, zipping up his black hoodie.
I survey them all to the sound of the Backstreet Boys in my ears. Scythe is wearing his usual business shirt and slacks, because he’s never aware of the cold. The snake spawn is tucking her expanse of dark hair into a purple beanie. It makes her shining mating mark clear for me to see and I hate her anew.
Marduk is inspecting the luggage, dressed in a woollen black trench coat, the gold rings on his fingers sparkling under the moon.
Next to him is what looks like a ball of pink cotton wool with ski goggles.
“What on earth are you wearing?” I ask Minnie.
“What, this?” Minnie points to the pink unicorn patterned fleece-hoodie-blanket thing she’s wearing. She’s tied the hood part around her neck so tightly all I can see is a little brown nose and mouth. “Or this?” she adjusts the pink ski goggles that take up the top half of her face.
“She doesn’t like the cold,” Yeti says defensively, pulling her to his side.
“And I suggested the goggles,” Marduk says, putting his own goggles on. “I don’t want her getting dry eyeballs during the flight.”
“Lia might be able to grow a clear protective eyelid, but I can’t, and I want to see the view!” She bobs up and down just like a nimpin. She’s so excited it almost makes up for the other unmentionables of the night. Eugene, Gertie and Henry had to be left with the others for safekeeping. Dragon-back is no place for tiny fluffballs and poultry.
I sigh, turning around to check the sky. The expanse of eternity waits for me, a void shot through with the fingerprints of the dragons that came before me. My dragon huffs impatiently. Excitedly.
He wants the snake spawn to put her legs around him. To feel her warmth against our monstrous body.
I can’t fucking imagine anything worse.
With a snarl, I explode into my dragon form. Growing huge, being the biggest thing in the night, the most terrifying thing is incredibly satisfying. It’s showing the world the glory of what I truly am. And yet there is always the searing pain in my skull, behind my orbital bones and the stretching of the old, scarred flesh. That is a pain like no other, and it always remains with me. A charred stain upon my soul.
Minnie and the snake spawn shriek as my feet land heavily upon the dragon stone. Marduk laughs and claps, and honestly, I don’t know why the rest aren’t.
I can feel her eyes on me, feel her awe at my beauty. My power. The hue of my scales, the enormity of my blue-tinged black wings.
I don’t like this. I fucking hate this.
“Such a pretty boy,” Yeti coos.
I turn around and huff at him, hot smoke from my nostrils becoming steam. He bats it away with a grin.
Scythe instructs them how to get on by climbing up the steel ladder he’s brought up for the animas. Marduk heads up first, his feet and hands as sure as any great cat’s, and assumes the end position. Minnie is practically carried up by Yeti, settling her between the two males. She giggles the entire way, fussing over my scales.
“Ooh, they’re warm!” she laughs. “I don’t know why I thought they’d be cool.”
I envelop the three of them in a radiant warming energy as Lyle clambers up with the snake spawn and I almost snort imagining Yeti being forced to cosy up behind Lyle, and then that means the spawn has to be cozied up to Scythe, and he’s probably going to enjoy that too much.
More smoke streams into the night.
“If anyone falls off, it’s not my fault,” I say into the group chat.
“If anyone falls off, I’ll just go after them,” Snake Spawn snaps back. “You’re not the only one with wings around here.”
No doubt she thinks the most of herself now she’s added phoenix to her repertoire. I huff irritably as they all wiggle into position, six caterpillars tickling my back.
“Ready?” Scythe calls, checking the luggage secured at the front.
“Ready!” cheers Minnie, waving her hands in the air like she’s at a school excursion.
I launch into the sky, thoroughly pleased with the multiple screams that sound in my wake.
Chapter 22
Aurelia
Whatever I thought flying on dragon-back would be like, it wasn’t in a Lyle and Scythe sandwich. I’ve been all up in Lyle’s business for the last couple of weeks and having him pressed up against my ass is now known as my happy place.
But the moment Scythe climbed up Xander’s foreleg with the grace and ease like he’d been doing it all his life and then having all six foot six of him settle in front of me was like something out of a dream.
I don’t know where to put my hands. I don’t know where to put my tits. Hell, I don’t know how to breathe.
Lyle has his arms around me, but because my newly healed stomach is still tender, he can’t grip onto me like he wants to.
And then Scythe orders over his shoulder, “Put your arms around me, Aurelia.”
My heart gives a little jolt, and I tentatively raise my hands. My instincts have always screamed that Scythe does not like to be touched. I’ve known that since the first day I met him in Halfeather’s dungeon. The memory-dreams I’ve had of him confirm this instinct. He’s been touched without his permission his entire life. I did not want to number amongst those people who did something to him against his will. The very thought makes me sick.
He’s given me permission now, but he has no choice.
“Aurelia,” Scythe rasps in my mind.
I’m so startled by the admonishment in his tone that I whip my arms around him so quickly that I crush my lungs against him and start coughing awkwardly.
He’s warm and hard and there is definitely a six-pack under my clenched hands. My cheek rests against the muscled plane of his left shoulder blade, and it feels more intimate than I deserve. Yet my anima coos and preens at the feel of him, wanting to snuggle in further. Wanting to remove his business shirt and rub my nose into his inked skin.
I’ve left no space between me and Scythe’s back, so Lyle runs his hand down the length of my thighs to grip me just above my knees.
I’m flushed, breathless, and very happy with my position in life right this second.
Xander had launched into the sky like the complete asshole he is, and the feel of being on a flying creature and at its mercy, rather than being the flying creature itself, is completely alien. I hate the feeling of not being in control, and the wind is so much harsher on my human skin than my feathers. It feels like ages being at an incline until he gets to the height he wants, but once we level out, I let myself take a look around.
It’s a sea of darkness, on this clear night, empty air stretching out in every direction with the twinkly stars above. In my heart, I feel the call of sweet freedom like a soothing balm to my tumultuous insides. I’ve not spent too much time flying at night for safety reasons, but it really is a special thing to be this far above the troubles of the world, in a space barred admission to so many others. It’s no wonder dragons think so much of themselves. Being a bird is brilliant enough, but to be this beastly of a creature and yet so graceful in the sky?
Magical.
The dark countryside is awash in silver-blue by the bright moon. I’m tingly right down to my fingertips, positively giddy, and not at all cold like Minnie and I expected. It’s like my blood is heating up by the second, and my budding excitement has me wanting to see everything.
“That take-off was an asshole move,” Lyle says into the group chat.
“I’d watch my mouth right now if I were everyone,” Xander growls back.
“Really, Xan?” Lyle says.
“How long will the flight be?” I interject.
“Two hours,” Scythe replies. “So settle in. And I want silence from everyone.”
“Lia?” Minnie screams at that opportune moment. “Are you alright?”
“Yes!” I call back, tuning slightly to avoid yelling in Scythe’s ear. “Are you alright?”
