Gloam (Monstrous, #4)

by Lily Mayne

Was it wrong of me to be staring at a monster’s ass? I was pretty sure the answer to that, if I asked anyone in this camp, would be a resounding yes. Maybe a hell yes. Probably a what the fuck is wrong with you, dude?

This beastie had a biteable ass.

Take your pants off, I projected down at him, staring at that weird cage. Show me your dick. I haven’t seen a dick except my own in so long, man. No one has to know. He didn’t react.

Lmfao

Lilac practically embraced awkward moments. Like it was a game to see how uncomfortable he could make people with his silent presence.

I sat up immediately and practically flung myself out of bed to get away. Nope. No, thank you. I would have lived a very happy life without knowing what my best friend sounded like in the throes of monster-induced passion, but it was too late for that now. That knowledge had already burned itself into my brain, and I had to find a way to live with it.

Ghost wasn’t perverted. Aury wasn’t a freak or a thing. Neither was the beastie chained to Mary’s RV. They were just different. And different was good, in my opinion. Different was great.

Adam, Gloam scribbled immediately. I am telling you how I feel about you in the only way I can. Please don’t take that away from me by dismissing my words.

A tiny part of me wanted to ask him to put the boots back on, but… maybe another time.

O Lanyr nor Faie Aedonimus ag ni Boetna elt Lonor no nirith om Wome.

“There you are,” I said, reaching up to cup the side of his face, tracing the tip of my finger around the base of his horn. “I knew you weren’t ugly. I told you.”

“You’re perfect,” I croaked, fresh tears welling. I blinked fast to suck them back, trying to get a grip.

“I love you,” I told him, before I carefully enclosed his head back in the cage.

“My Adam.” He brought his hands around to cup my face, big thumbs smoothing over my cheekbones. “I love you.”

“Don’t make me get a boner while I’m kneeling in blood. Who knows what kind of kink could spawn from that.”

“I love you,” he told me, and my insides turned to goo. “This will take a while. I will have to take each of them quite far from the house. Why don’t you go and rest?” He gestured at the blood. “I will do this.” I shook my head stubbornly. “I’m nearly done. I don’t mind. I want to help.” As he reluctantly stood back up, I quickly added, “I love you too.”

“You are my Androcles.” I grinned shakily even as I asked, “Who?” He chuckled. “The slave who pulled the thorn from the lion’s paw.” “Oh.” I had only vague recollections of the story, but I still flushed with pleasure. “And like the lion,”—Gloam reached out and cupped my chin—“I will be loyal to you always, my Adam. I will never leave your side.”

“I will protect you from all harm, my love.”

“Finding you has made everything worth it,” he murmured, making my breath catch in my throat. “I would go through it all a thousand times again to have you, Adam.”

“I am your lion,” he said, his deep voice low, his words just for me. “Loyal to you until the end.”

“I would die for you, do you know that?” His eyes glimmered with emotion, those long pupils flickering. “I hate what you have gone through for me. I hate that you walked away from everything you knew for me. But I am weak, because I cannot bring myself to regret any of it.” He kissed me once, gently. “You are my greatest weakness—not my true name, or any compulsion I can be put under. But you are the one I gladly carry. I would do anything for you, just as you have done everything for me.”

He was more, but he didn’t make me feel lesser. His words and actions made me feel the biggest I ever had. Like I could do anything.

I cast one final look at it over his shoulder and raised my weak arm to give it an actual middle finger, as a final nail in her coffin.

I had already told Lilac he’d be coming with us to make a new camp if sentiment changed among the other raiders. He’d simply quirked a brow, which I took to mean a big, fat yes in Lilac speak. I was pretty sure, anyway. I liked to go for the more positive outlook.

“Blood isn’t everything,” he’d said. “You have found your own people now.”

“There are people approaching the camp,” he said in his flat voice, green eyes calm but alert. “One of them is big. And purple.”