Page 66

Yoichi smirked. “He may disagree.”

I swallowed. “So. . .each form has a different. . ?”

He quirked his brows.

“Different. . .you know. . .sexual tool?”

A loud laugh rumbled from him.

“Yoichi don’t laugh at me. I’m asking a real question.”

He chuckled some more. “Perhaps, you should see for yourself. Surely, each form would love to show you what they have.”

I blinked. “Okay. Hold up. We don’t need a genital fashion show. You can simply answer the question.”

“Can I now?” He stared at me for one long moment.

It was something about how he looked at me that made my whole body set on fire.

“Let’s get this out of the way so I can. . .get to more important things.” Yoichi rose off the bed and stepped back.

Curious, I sat up.

Suddenly, his skin moved like water disturbed beneath the surface, muscle and bone rearranging themselves in slow, trembling waves that traveled from his heavy shoulders down to his feet.

The shift moved through him in pulses—his outline blurring at the edges, his proportions stretching and contracting. The angles of him sharpened.

A crack sounded near his arms.

His spine arched. His shoulders snapped wider, and wider, until the lantern light couldn't reach the edges of him.

Oh! Fuck!

Bones popped and reshaped.

Muscle surged beneath his skin.

Then the fur came, pushing through his flesh.

Dark.

Thick.

Orange at the tips.

The fur swallowed his golden skin, spilled down his chest and arms, and bristled along his spine.

His face stretched.

His jaw pushed forward into a long muzzle. His ears rose, sharp and pointed. Fangs slid past black lips.

Oh my God.

Behind him, the air split open, and eight tails unfurled.

My mouth dropped open.

Those eight tails fanned out across the room from wall to wall, blotting out the painted tree.