Found by the lake monste.., p.1
Found by the Lake Monster, page 1
Found by the Lake Monster
Copyright © 2022 by Lillian Lark. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Editor: Ellie, My Brother’s Editor
Proofreader: Rosa Sharon, My Brother’s Editor
Cover Art: Lillian Lark
Created with Vellum
Contents
Content Warning
1. Amy
2. Adrian
3. Amy
4. Adrian
5. Amy
6. Adrian
7. Amy
8. Adrian
9. Amy
10. Adrian
11. Amy
12. Adrian
13. Amy
14. Adrian
15. Amy
16. Amy
17. Adrian
18. Amy
Epilogue
Adrian
Note from the Author
About the Author
For all the Amys out there.
Content Warning
Dear reader,
Found by the Lake Monster includes lying, breeding, accidental oviposition (eggs), knotting, male heat, being lost in creepy woods, fertility discussions, painless cervical penetration, and a child in the epilogue.
There’s also a lot of cum.
* * *
Be kind to yourselves,
L. Lark
1
Amy
“What am I doing here?” I mutter, jumping when something hoots back from the oppressive darkness.
The light from my flashlight doesn’t give me near enough illumination, only hitting the surrounding trees and leaving long, creep inducing shadows. Leaves crunch under the snow boots I’d pulled out from their spot under my bed and only use when I make my annual trips back home for Christmas. I’m not an outdoorsy person with a closetful of hiking boots and fleece.
When I’d agreed to this adventure, I hadn’t thought about the logistics of wandering around creepy woods at night. I’d only had a mind for not staying at home for the millionth time with my expertly shaped toy collection.
Go find a lake monster, they said. It will be fun, they said.
I’m a fucking idiot and am totally going to walk into a spider web. A shudder of disgust travels down my spine, and I squeeze the flashlight harder.
But… it’s a Friday night, and I didn’t want to rewatch Stranger Things or read a monster romance that inspired another toy purchase. The ten oddly shaped artworks of dildos would already be difficult to explain to the person unlucky enough to clean out my cozy apartment when I don’t make it out of this spooky forest.
Wait. I won’t have to explain the sex toys if I’m dead. It’s all about the upsides.
Great-Aunt Wilma always told me that my need for new adventures would get me into trouble. She’d say it with the gleam of kinship in her eyes. She had been quite the rabble-rouser back in the day.
I’d scoffed at the notion that any of my adventures would get me into more trouble than I could handle. I’m not an adrenaline junkie or anything. I don’t go jumping out of airplanes for a thrill. I just want to experience more new things than the town I’d grown up in could provide. Harmless adventures.
I’d rather eat her year-old fruitcake than admit that this time, Great-Aunt Wilma might be correct.
The walkie-talkie at my waist spews static and I fumble the flashlight, the beams of light travel every which way as I steady it again. The voice of Rob breaks through the static.
“Anything on your side, Amy?”
I unclip the walkie-talkie one-handed and press the button before I do something else clumsy like drop it… Because if it broke in this place with spotty cell reception… and I got lost…
I’m not going to think about that.
“Uh—all clear over here. I don’t see anything that looks… out of the ordinary,” I say as if I’m an expert on how the woods look at night.
“Have you been making sure to check for tracks?” he asks.
“Um, yeah…” I peer down at the ground of pitch-black foliage. The moon had been behind clouds for the majority of the night and we’re miles away from any civilization for light pollution to make the darkness any more friendly. I haven’t been checking for tracks because the flashlight lighting the trees is what’s keeping me from losing my nerve.
Just lie. If the tracks were important, we wouldn’t be hunting for them in the dark. It’s just a little lie—
“It’s a little hard to see the ground unless I have the flashlight pointed directly down,” I say.
Dammit. I curse the part of me that is a stickler for honesty.
“We need tracks to prove this thing exists. I went over everything before we started.” His frustrated tone of condescension makes my cheeks start to burn. Everyone else on this expedition is on this channel.
I’m the only “civilian” of the group, a term that doesn’t make sense because this isn’t some organization of military personnel; this is a small group of people hunting after supernatural things. They are professionals in that they get paid to put cameras in people’s homes to catch sightings of ghosts… or cats that tip over water glasses.
I know this because I’ve seen their invoices. I’m an accountant, and not the sexy kind of accountant that people mean when they don’t want to explain what they really do for work.
And currently, I’m their accountant.
I work for a lot of different businesses. It helps keep the boredom of numbers in line, but sometimes the monotony of my life gets to me, and I find myself accepting offers of payment that I should have shut down. Offers like finding a legendary lake monster over the weekend instead of ordering the seasonal soup from the local coffee shop and surfing Netflix.
It sounded exciting. An adventure I’d never embarked on. Did I also agree to it while in a groggy state from staying up late and reading a romance with tentacles? That may have happened.
The likelihood of a lake monster being both real and anything like a romance book hero is minuscule… but my curiosity would not allow me to turn down the opportunity.
What my brain didn’t connect when I agreed is that exciting things tend to be exciting because of the risk of danger.
“I’ll be sure to look for tracks,” I mumble.
Rob doesn’t respond and it makes it worse somehow, imagining the people who had raised a brow at me being included, snickering while they canvas their own patch of wilderness. I slide the walkie-talkie clip back onto my pocket.
I didn’t think we’d all split off in the woods. Doesn’t that go against every survival rule in the book? But Rob said that the only record of the creature being seen is at night, so here I am, in the dark.
I swallow and tilt my flashlight down, illuminating the shapes of leaves and vines while I walk. I try not to think about the dark woods that spread around me. I try not to think about getting lost. I’m only looking at the dirt and vines… aren’t there snakes in the woods?
Deep breaths, Amy. Breathe so you don’t pass out alone in the forest. I really should have stayed home. A chocolate-tasting class would have also counted as an adventure… albeit one with fewer monster dick possibilities.
Something hits my face, and the tickle of legs is enough to shatter the control I have over my nerves.
I scream.
I flail my arms, dropping something and trying to swipe my hands over my face and hair. My fingers catch the delicate pull of something that brings to mind furry legs and multiple eyes. Every pass of my hands makes it worse. Things crawl over my skin, down my neck. The panic screams in my mind and I do the only thing my body will allow.
I run.
2
Adrian
I flick the burner off. The stew that bubbles in the pot is ready a full hour earlier than my anticipated guest. The bread is almost done rising, but I’ll force myself to wait to bake it. If a fresh loaf doesn’t sweeten my rusty courting skills, nothing can.
All I can do now is be patient.
I pull the collar of my dress shirt away from my neck. The heat that pricks my skin and stokes my arousal makes wearing clothing uncomfortable, but it’s better to get used to it. As much as getting naked and fucking the heat away is hoped for, I’m looking for more than that with this date.
This may be the last heat I experience.
I can’t say for sure. I only have some ache in my body and soul that’s warning me. A literal ticking of my biological clock rather than metaphorical. This could be my last chance at having young. Driven by that alarming fact, I’d hoped against hope for a miracle and contacted a renowned matchmaker.
The chances are small, but maybe I’ll find someone who wants the same things that I do. Females of my kind are rare, but we’re compatible with a few other species.
The matchmaker had been very kind, very understanding.
Leaving my territory during a heat is uncomfortable. It had taken some discussion, but with extra spells to ensure the safety of the candidate the matchmaker selected, combined with my glowing re ferences, I’ll be picking up my match for a candlelight dinner as soon as she gets to my forest.
I only need to be patient about it, to be a gentleman as we have our date to determine if my match will stay with me during the heat.
I’ve been matched with a witch. Witches are a catchall in our world, able to reproduce with the greatest number of species even if some assistance is needed. The matchmaker let us know that while we may be compatible based on the information given, we may not be a successful match upon meeting. The match isn’t a perfect one.
I appreciated the honesty.
The witch and I chose not to disclose any information about each other except what’s required for arranging transportation and such. It’s the safer option if we’re completely incompatible. We’ll exchange names when we meet.
The witch only knows I’m an aquatic creature that is experiencing a heat. My kind are rare and rare means valuable on the black market. The matchmaker has all my details, but she’s trusted in the rarer supernatural circles.
I take safety measures seriously. I have local friends and we share a territory and the expense and responsibility of warding it.
I start to pace, tugging again at my collar. My cock is already half-mast in anticipation, but I ignore it. There is much to be done before that part of me gets what it wants. The scent of the witch may not call to me at all and then I’ll be spending the next couple of days, when the worst of the heat will hit me, mindlessly fucking a Fleshlight and getting over the fact I waited too long to both choose a mate and have young.
A plucking sensation tickles my skin and I freeze. Someone has crossed the wards. The wards only keep out people who are looking for me or those like me. With everyone else, it informs those that live around the lake of a presence. I frown.
My phone buzzes with a text from Seamus.
Seamus: There’s a woman stumbling around in the dark. Is it your date?
Me: I’ll check. She’s early.
Seamus: Maybe she’s as eager as you are.
I smile at that before something stirs and I tense. My instincts scream at me to go. To find. To rut.
My breath catches at the drive, and I push it down. It’s time to greet my match.
My mate.
3
Amy
I stumble again. This time it’s a rock tripping me instead of a tree root and I manage to catch myself. The light from my cell phone isn’t as bright as the flashlight I’d lost on my screaming run through the forest. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
The walkie-talkie connecting me to the only people who know I’m out here was another casualty. When I’d finally stopped running and talked myself down from ripping off my clothes and burning them to rid myself of the creepy-crawly sensation, I’d tried to backtrack to find the walkie-talkie, but it was no use and only added to my confusion of where I am.
I can’t even call anyone. The shitty reception I’d had before has gone to being nonexistent, like I’m in a dead zone.
Fear has my breath on a knife’s edge. My heart thunders in my ears, but I still hear every hoot and cricket. My throat is tight, and I hold back the tears.
I’m lost.
I’m lost and alone in the woods near a lake with spiders and snakes. Deep breaths. I can only see a few feet in front of me at a time. Breathe.
I blink at the darkness. Hopelessness and panic flood my chest, but everything freezes when I see a light in the distance. I stumble toward it, hoping against hope it’s a lake house of some type with a friendly family that will have a landline.
My snow boots snag on something and I trip forward. My phone clatters to the ground, but I don’t. I fall against something warm and solid with an oof!
“Whoa!” The something’s voice is deep and rich.
Someone, I mentally correct.
“I’m so sorry!” I say, the words are an automatic breathless response.
The stranger helps me upright. His hands linger on my arms, but I’m not complaining. I assume it’s a him anyway. I can’t see a damn thing.
His touch is so grounding it helps push back the worst of my emotions even though he’s a stranger. At least he isn’t a snake. At least I’m no longer alone in the darkness. My brain is concerned and tries to whisper things about serial killers, but there’s something about the stranger that exudes safety. My fight-or-flight response is probably broken after the night I’ve had.
“That’s quite all right,” that beautiful voice says. “Are you okay? I didn’t think you’d gotten here yet, otherwise I’d have come to escort you. It’s easy to get turned around here.”
I frown in the darkness. Is he one of the group? I don’t recognize his voice. “Let me get my phone so I can see you.”
“Oh, allow me! I forget not everyone has my night vision.”
My brain screams at me. Who has good enough night vision for a cloudy night? But I smile anyway as my phone is picked up from the ground and turned upright. The stranger hands it to me. The light from it illuminates the two of us, and it’s confirmed that my fight-or-flight response is broken because I freeze.
Actually, my brain supplies, the something rather than someone was correct.
I’ve died.
I must have tripped during my run through the woods. I tripped and hit my head or fell down a well and died.
Either I’m dead, hallucinating, or I’ve found the lake monster.
And he thinks he knows me because he keeps talking. “I’m so relieved you came here. I know traveling somewhere so remote can be a pain, but my heat makes moving out of the territory—I just really appreciate the concession even though the matchmaker said our compatibility—”
His skin is pale from what’s visible from the phone light, with mottled markings in place of hair. His lips appear humanlike, but I catch a flash of fangs as he smiles with chagrin. His face is flat where a nose would protrude, with slits for nostrils. The most inhuman part of him though, are his big black eyes. Translucent skin flashes over the dark orbs and I jump. Nictitating membrane.
Because that mystery is what my brain needed to solve right now.
“—in person may differ.” The lake monster scratches the back of his head in an awkward fidget.
This is impossible. This hallucination is from reading all those monster romances. Does this mean I get to try out real monster cock instead of dildos?
No! Bad, Amy!
I pinch myself covertly, but the lake monster is still in front of me. In a light-colored dress shirt, the skin of his face appearing flushed.
“Oh, my apologies! I’m Adrian.” The lake monster holds out his hand to me. Five claw-tipped fingers with webbing in between.
I blink, but impossibly my body begins to thaw. Maybe it’s the way he fidgets, his dress shirt, or my brain has abandoned me as being too stupid to live, but something about him puts me at ease. Intrigue keeps me where I am as much as surprise does.
“Amy.” I grip his hand, expecting his skin to be cold, but it isn’t. His texture is soft, moister than a human, but very warm. My heat.
This hallucination is absolutely fucking with me. I meet a monster in the woods, and he is literally breedable. I keep my snort to myself.
My hand is still in his as I stare at him, my brain going to places it really shouldn’t. Adrian inhales almost as if he’s scenting the air and that translucent membrane covers part of his eyes in a way that communicates pleasure. His pale face flushes a darker color.
“I’m very glad to meet you, Amy.” The timbre of his voice drops, and the sound is a caress over my nerves.
I swallow and heat gathers in my body with alarming quickness. My cheeks burn as a distant part of my brain tries to make a case for turning tail to run. A larger portion of my brain doesn’t want to run.
