Be My Valentine…Snack

It’s Me Me Monday! A day to promote, strut, and celebrate your Me-ness!

Right now, Christopher is exploring his own Me-ness, what he’s capable of , what his limits are, and what he’s going to do upon discovering Duessa Ashelocke’s ‘Valentines’ within her Place of Power in the next part of ‘Be My Valentine…Snack’…


Arachnocrats weren’t that different than shadows, not really.

Something hungry stirred with me, yearning to unweave itself from this mortal form and to taste that passion, throbbing with the cocoon. How ironic if I were to feed on Duessa’s Valentines in her Place of Power, stealing the strength to fight her from her victims.

No. I shuddered within my frail human form, whcih would be so easy to discard.

No. If I fed on these fading cocoons, what would happen to the Valentines within?

Peter was somewhere among them. How many playful young flirts dangled from the ceiling, paying for one foolish choice? I couldn’t condemn them for that. How many stupid things had I done, which now lay with a shadow’s belly?

No. I’d chosen to live as a human. This body was a gift, the first gift Damian had ever given me.

Damian. I could still recall the warmth of his hand, the first thing I’d felt when stepping into his world.

He’d given me energy with a touch. Perhaps I could do the same.

I took a step forward toward the cocoon pulsing with frantic life

“Hello.” I made my voice as gentle as possible. I reached out with my free hand toward its rosy side, willing my own heat into it. “What’s your name?”

My fingers glowed, faintly green. Warmth pulsed, gathering into my palm.

I pressed my hand against the cocoon, feeling the energy course down through my arm, out of me.

I staggered, weakened by the loss.

The cocoon’s blush deepened. Its pulse quickened.

“Valentine.” I heard a young man’s dispirited voice, dull with misery. “I cannot remember who I was, before Valentine.”

“Pleased to meet you, Valentine.” I felt the connection, the flow of heat in a stream linking us.

Ah, this was shared warmth rather than stolen.

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