Mating Monsters (I.S.S.)

by M. Sinclair

We were called The Devourers because each of our magic held one singular element: we consumed others. Ralos consumed blood. Wyre consumed flesh. I consumed memories.

“Good. We are going to be around other nightmares, specifically male nightmares, so I want you covered in my scent.” I blushed. “Why?”

Plus, hadn’t it been nearly an hour since breakfast? Surely she was hungry. I mean, she was so tiny. Maybe I needed to start carrying snacks around with me…

“Have you ever come before, pet?” “No,” I murmured softly. Wyre produced a dangerous noise, but I couldn’t look at his expression. Ralos offered me a heated look. “If you ever feel that way again, you use one of us—always. I don’t want you touching yourself when we aren’t around. We are the only ones to give you pleasure, understand?”

I think one of the most endearing aspects of children was the purity of their emotions. Every single one flashed across their faces, and when they smiled, it was with unreserved, pure joy. And when they expressed love to you, you felt like you were their favorite person in the world.

“Do you know what stops heat, little raven?” Dranos’s voice was soft and dangerously like velvet in the space, his magic creating a physical manifestation of its effect. “What?” I asked as Wyre bit down hard on my breast. “Taking in enough cum to get knocked up, so spread those legs wide and let us do our job, Isla.”