Blood & Cinders- Choose your Own Adventure Story

21. B

 She heard the crunch of bone snapping as he let out another growl through clenched teeth. His two long fangs that jutted from his upper lip retracting before her eyes.

Isabelle moved toward him, but he held up a hand. "No." His eyes shifted to the privy. "A robe. In the dresser... There is-" another strangled groan tore from his lips.

Isabelle rose in understanding, darting to the privy, hands shaking as she pulled open drawers and sifted through clothes. She was unfamiliar with men's garments, but she found the dark blue robe he had mentioned along with a shirt that seemed smaller than the ones he'd worn and a pair of britches.

Isabelle ran back with shaky hands. Nervousness and excitement all coiled in her gut. What would he look like? Would he treat her the same in this form as well?

"Dear god," Isabelle dropped the clothes on the floor, hands running up to her mouth in horror. He was writhing on the floor a deluge of fur and skin shifting before her eyes and black fur waved onto flesh. The horns once curled round the side of his head now retracting into his skull. He roared out in pain and Isabelle stood frozen watching the shift as the large beats head shrunk shaking. "Don't look," he rasped through pained breaths.

But Isabelle couldn't look away. Only when she saw the form of a naked man, slick with sweat, his bare ass visible and face panting into the stone floor, did she blush and walk back into the privy. She had only seen a glimpse of his body but it was enough to stoke the dancing flames in her body once more.

The image of leaned toned muscles and short wavy locks played in her head. She had yet to see his face, but she feared she had already glimpsed far too much then was proper of a lady, and yet she wanted to see more. To explore this foreign anatomy, and the curious and strange feelings it gave her.

"Isabelle?" His voice called tentatively from the other room. It was still just saw deep but missing the usually gravelly, rough undertone.

She peered her head into the room, the warm glow of the fire still casting tones of yellow across the walls.

A man stood before her in a rich blue robe. His frame was slightly smaller than the creature she had come to know. He was taller than John, not as broad shouldered, but lanky. Isabelle had already caught a glimpse of just what kind of muscles were hiding under there.

His skin, a rich olive with a mess of dark short waves, sat matted with sweat atop his head, giving a rough exotic look. Perhaps, from his mother. A sharp jawline framed his striking features. He was not handsome. He was -"beautiful." The words slipped past her lips. Her eyes widened, immediately clamping her treacherous mouth shut.

A boyish grin broke across his face. The first time she had seen a smile so breathtaking.

"I was apprehensive for a moment," he strode toward her with long easy strides, looking far more comfortable in this skin. "Glad to know that this form pleases you." He stopped just inches from her. Head dipping low to meet her gaze.

A shiver crawled up her spine.

Hazel. His eyes were hazel. A beautiful warm honey color, that glowed like the embers of the fire themselves, a mossy green tinging the edges.

"Though," His head tipped further, voicing crawling across her flesh in a rough whisper. "I fear this form is far more dangerous."

"Why?" She asked, coming closer to his gravitating gaze, her lips parting involuntarily.

"Because, now, I no longer fear to be near you, to touch you," her brown eyes widened as his thumb traced gently down the curve of her cheek. "How long I have yearned to do this," his voice barely a whisper.