“He doesn’t get credit for this.” His voice a low rumble. “I’ll give you what you were too pure to ask for.”
Clayde was born from blood and Clay, by Lilith, his mother. She used him and his siblings for missions she needs done. What the purposes are they’ve no idea. Once he sees Rae, all the actions he’d never thought twice about, now felt dangerous. The aches in this chest feel foreign, and the loneliness he feels when she isn’t around, is almost more than he can stand.
“Oh, God...” I beg into the open, a low groan leaving my throat. “Please.”
Maybe I am being haunted. The thought doesn't scare me as much as it probably should. It should send me running for a priest or a ghost hunter, but all I feel is a strange, lingering warmth. If this is what a haunting feels like, being touched and cherished with a desperate, unseen intensity… then I don't hate it.