“Are you sure—”

“I’m fine. Please continue.”

I’m about to stop when suddenly, another idea sparks like a firework inside of me. Reassuring myself that Zhuliya is an adult and has many tats, I chase my vision in earnest.

My hands swoop and arc, as if I’m really painting on canvas. The faster I work, the more I pour myself into the ink.

Every second brings me closer to my creation. I’ve never felt so alive, every part of me consumed by the urge to gift this woman with something amazing.

Beneath my touch, Zhuliya’s whimpers turn into moans. A forgotten part of my brain reminds me to check on her, to make sure that she’s alright, but I ignore it.

Instinctively, I know she’s fine. Never in a million years would—could—I hurt this precious creature.

Faster and faster I go, closer and closer until I finish the last swirl. The needle kisses Zhuliya’s skin for the last time, completing my masterpiece.

Just then, an ember of light flashes before my eyes, and I swear a piece of me detaches from my consciousness, embedding itself in the dark chaos of the inked flesh below me.

The tiny female screams, her entire body contorting as I pull away in horror. Her back ripples, showcasing the artwork I’m only now recognizing.

It’s the symbol of Aisyth, the fertility Goddess of my people, who blesses each and every mating bond with a unique branding.

Usually this is etched into the male Ithaqua’s horns by an Ithaquan priestess of Aisyth, but it would seem the Goddess decided to give me the vision instead.

All but the last part of the mating bond is complete, and panic crushes the air from my lungs until I remind myself that I won’t cross that last line.

Never.

Except…

I sniff, a heady scent clogging my nostrils, making me aware of my surroundings, of the human before me.

Zhuliya shakes like a leaf trying to ward off the coming winter. Sweat dots the back of her neck, and my own body quivers in answer.

“Are…are you…” I trail off, unable to finish the inane question.

Of course, she’s not fine—neither of us are. I just mated with a woman without her consent, and she just came from it. In doing so, she completed the bond.

Her pleasure ensured that she accepted the bond when I imprinted myself upon her, through her freshly drying ink.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

The situation has escalated from bad to worse case scenario. I have no idea what to do—what to think.

If anyone finds out, I’m in deep shit. What just happened is beyond illegal—as it should be. It’s one thing to keep humans and monsters apart, but another for a monster to take a mate without consent.

Humans don’t understand the concept of ‘fated’. It doesn’t matter that everything that happened was unintentional and unconscious.

It still happened.

I inhale, and instantly regret it, as Zhuliya’s arousal filters back into my senses and clouds my thinking.

Almost mechanically, I start spouting off my aftercare lecture, rubbing a thin layer of antibiotic ointment over her back.

She still hasn’t said anything, and my stomach bubbles in distress. Imprinting upon her literally means I’m physically attached to Zhuliya.

Where she goes, I must.

An Ithaqua can never leave their mate. An invisible tether binds the two together for all eternity. To not be near her would be a fate worse than death—an agony beyond comprehension.

The thought is almost as terrible as the one of me following her around. Humans might like my art, but I doubt it’s good enough to make stalking an acceptable practice.

But I’m fairly certain that mating bonds are irreversible. It’s impossible to get back the piece of me embedded into Zhuliya, not to mention supremely offensive to the Goddess.

If, in her infinite wisdom, she sanctioned our bonding, who am I to question this union?

Except, I doubt Aisyth concerns herself with earthly affairs and knows anything about human laws—or cares.

Which makes me…utterly screwed.

I clear my throat after my speech and quickly step away from the tiny woman. She pulls away from the chair, turning towards me, a dazed expression on her face.

So dazed, Zhuliya doesn’t even seem to realize she’s showing me a whole lot of tit—glorious, ample, and tipped with dusky nipples the same shade as her cheeks.

My mouth drops open, and I stumble back with all the finesse of a newborn reindeer. We both stare at one another in shock.

Fuck, does she know what happened—what I did?

“Let me—”

“I should—”

We both speak at the same time, and I freeze, allowing her to finish. “I should go.”

The thought of her leaving guts me. “No!”

Zhuliya’s eyes widen at my growled refusal, and I know I sound like a crazy man. Shit, I can’t think straight.

Everything around me blurs as need slams into me, a reminder to seal the mating bond with the union of our bodies.

“Will…you…excuse me?” I spit the words out between pants, skirting around the lovely female until I’m at the door.

Not once does Zhuliya try to cover herself, clearly still too shocked at what’s transpired, and I slip out of the room and dash back down to my office.

For a second time tonight, I fist my stoyuk and jerk myself into a dissatisfying orgasm until another fountain of cum erupts onto the floor.

Only Zhuliya can give me what I crave, but if I don’t take the edge off, I’m afraid of what I might do.

My heart races as I clean the mess and wonder what the hell I’m going to say to Zhuliya this time, but when I return, she’s gone.