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1

Breathing is nothing but a fleeting afterthought as I stare down at the man between my legs, his face hidden from view as he drags his lips up my inner thigh. As it happens each time we find each other, he hooks my leg over his shoulder, a long-fingered hand pressing down on my abdomen to keep me still.

His dark blond hair appears dark in the dim light of our surroundings, tickling my skin as he kisses closer and closer to my aching core…only to stop when he’s right above it, his warm breath causing me to jerk my hips for him to continue lower.

“Syl,” he speaks my name in a whisper, the sound of it alone making me flood with more desire.

I want him.

He wants me.

I can’t see his face, but I know if I did, I’ll see the lust swim in his eyes as it does in mine.

“Please,” I whimper, raking my fingers through his messy locks, trying to tilt his head just enough so I can see his face, his eyes. But my grip is too withering with want, and I end up begging him instead, “Please, I need you.”

My back arches off the hard surface I’m lying on when he closes the last inch between his lips and my heat. I melt with ecstasy, gasping as he gently licks at my clit. His tongue laps at me with groundbreaking precision before his lips briefly enclose my nub, giving it a little suck.

With sheer abandon, I moan his name…only I can’t hear it. It combines with my moans and fades with an irritating buzz coming from my right.

Frowning, I try locking eyes with him again, desperate to hold on to this moment just a few seconds longer. I’m so close…

“Please,” I mutter between breathless moans, pulling at his hair again. “Your eyes…I need to see them. Please, look at me.”

For a moment, I thought he didn’t hear my begging. The buzzing grows louder by the second, and panic seizes my heart when his figure begins rippling, becoming transparent. But just as I thought I’d be left disappointed and unsatisfied again, he looks up at me from between my legs, and my body freezes.

His eyes…

But a final lick at my clit renders my mind blank and I come, arching off the surface and unleashing a breathless moan that leaves me shuddering. My vision dots with starry galaxies until I have no choice but to close my eyes, holding on to the moment as he presses a soft kiss to my core.

When I open my eyes after the pleasure tore through my entire body, the man is gone. I’m back in my room with my alarm buzzing on the bedside table, announcing the start of a new day and the end of yet another ecstasy-filled but heart-wrenching dream.

“Great,” I mumble to myself, waving a hand at the alarm for it to shut up.

“I’ll say.” Looking up, I spot a ruffled-haired Zari leaning against my doorframe, drinking the herbal tea I made for her yesterday when she felt feverish. “That was the most intense one so far.”

Arching a brow, I just have to ask, “How so?”

Zari doesn’t give me a verbal answer, and only gestures at the floating objects around my room. Books, pictures, makeup, crystals, jewellery…name it, and it’s floating. Blushing, I flick my wrist and send everything back to where they belong. Zari’s right, my dreams have never affected my magic before, only me and, well…

Rubbing my thighs together, I immediately know that I need a shower and a clean pair of panties.

“Was it the same guy as well?” She asks and I nod slowly. It’s still the same guy as always. “Well, shit.”

Again, I can only nod. Changing the subject, I ask, “How are you feeling?”

She shrugs, trying to play it off cool as she always does. But by the looks of her paling dark skin, the bags under her eyes, and the thin layer of sweat glazing on her forehead, I know she’d not getting better.

“I think you should up my De-Wolfing potion dosage for next month,” she says, referring to the potion I give her before each full moon to make her transformation easier and, well, less dangerous. “I think my body’s getting used to it or something.”

I take a moment to observe the young werewolf in the doorway. Zari is my age, twenty-one, and experienced her first transformation when she was sixteen. Like periods, it’s painful and sometimes traumatic. It was so bad for her, she refused to leave the apartment for months after she moved in.

That is, until I invented the De-Wolfing potion to help ease her transformations and keep her mind focused. Some werewolves tend to go on a rampage during the full moon, and she was one of the unfortunate few who lost themselves in their wolves.

Zari looks exhausted, hardly capable of holding her mug.

Getting out of bed, I cross the room to press my hand against her forehead, immediately retracting it when I felt her building fever. “Alright, off to bed with you. I’m making you a potion at work, because these symptoms are starting to worry me. Werewolves aren’t supposed to get sick. I’ll go make you some more tea.”

“Yes, doc.” Zari nods and starts heading towards her room.

After a shower and getting ready, I go to the kitchen to make her that promised tea. As I move, the plants in my apartment speak to me in whispers. They are thirsty. There’s a sixty percent chance of rain today. Someone is watching me from across the street.

The last report doesn’t faze me, though. I know it’s not me being watched, but rather my whole apartment building.

Still, I’m annoyed. It’s bad for business to be constantly under surveillance – it’s becoming a weekly routine now. My residents will grow restless and soon will be asking the question: am I truly as safe here as I was promised?

I make the same promise to all my residents, no matter how odd their abnormalities may be, they are more than welcome at The Oddity. Here, they are safe to be who they are without the fear of being discovered by either humans, hunters, collectors, or Magians.

My grandmother bought this building fifty years ago and started the business, which I inherited after she retired. She taught me the spells to uphold the wards that protect The Oddity from the outside world and left me her tomes of spells to study in case emergencies like ‘being watched’ arise.

Hiding behind my curtain, I pull it aside just enough to have a view of the man in his knee-length coat, bowler hat, and ominous shades. “Not today, mister,” I mutter and focus my magic on him. I do so carefully, knowing he’s from the Academy and probably knows when he’s being jinxed.

A second passes and the man starts tugging at his collar, overcome by a sudden hot flush. He blows into his shirt, hoping it will cool him down, but ends up removing his coat anyway – just as I had hoped. Out of the blue, a breeze picks up and snatches the coat from his hand and sweeps it away.

“Not again!” He doesn’t waste a second to chase after it, although he’ll be running for some time. And around at least a dozen blocks, since my little breeze won’t settle any time soon.

At last, The Oddity is safe once more and I can start my day on the right foot.

“Okay, Z, I’m going to work. Here’s your tea. Rest up, alright. And call me when something’s wrong.” I place her mug on the bedside table, earning only a muffled groan from her. Suppressing the urge to take her temperature again and perhaps even give her more potions, I leave the apartment and start my walk to my shop.

Only when I’m alone and surrounded by nature, do I allow myself to rewind to that dream. It started a few months ago, and I used to experience it only once a week. But now, it happens so frequently, I’ve taken to placing a soundproofing charm on my room just so the whole building doesn’t find out about my strange wet dreams.

I have vampire residents too, mind you.

And it’s always the same man in the same dimly lit room. The strange part, however, is no matter how long the dream lasts, I’ve never had the privilege to see his face before, until this morning. And I think I now understand why.

Because of his eyes.

I’m filled with more questions now than ever. Who is this man? Why does he always visit me in the same dream? And why do I feel like our paths will soon cross?

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