TRANSITION

Perched in his ghost-owl form on the window ledge, Develon Cole watched the woman asleep on her twin-size bed. Long, golden caramel hair tangled around her sensual face. Inky lashes rested gently on her high cheekbones. Her nose was small and pert and perfectly shaped, her lips petite and kissable. Lying on her side with one hand resting gently by her face, she seemed so tranquil in sleep. She was one of the most stunning women he had ever seen. His gaze searched her face, and he knew she was the one, his sodalis, his mate. They had been sharing dreams together for several months, ever since he arrived in the small college town of Pullman, Washington. He was Chimera and his race had been on earth as long as humans. His people were desperate to find their one true mate for life. The theory was the Gods had feared the Chimeras’ power and had split their race in half. The Chimera people were condemned to wander the earth, searching for their other half to be complete. Without their sodalis, each was destined to live life without dreams, without love, without hope. The future rested on finding their sodalis. And Develon had just found his, lying on her side, one hand resting gently by her face. * * * * * Shelby O’Neil had been dreaming of the same gorgeous guy for the past several months, though she couldn’t remember exactly when it had started. He was very tall, she estimated about six foot six, and muscular. Not an inch of fat on this guy anywhere. He was ripped, six pack and all. His long, thick black hair, which was pulled back from a flawless face, was tied at the nape of his neck with a dark brown leather strap. He had a decidedly Greek nose, a straight line from top to bottom; his cheekbones were high and prominent. A small dimple sat squarely in the center of his proud chin. All she could think about was nibbling on the edges of his plump, sensuous lips and gazing into his piercing green eyes, which blazed beneath their long, dark lashes with a savage fire. She knew if she looked into them long enough, she wouldn’t be scorched, but simply drown in their depths. His skin was darker than hers, very smooth, with a hint of chocolate and a healthy glow. His arms, shoulders, and much of his back were covered with a large tattoo of a white Siberian tiger; one of its sharp-clawed paws gripping the inside of his left wrist, its leg wrapping up and around his arm, across his large bicep and muscular shoulder, and the rest of its sleek white body cascading over and across the back of his neck, then down the right side of his back, where its striped tail disappeared inside the top of his black denim jeans. The tiger appeared to be in 3D, nearly jumping off his skin with vibrancy and textures, making it appear alive. Her dreams were becoming lucid; so vivid, so real. And, last night’s was no different.