Brother, I Like Him

My brother gave me away to Michael Moy, a titan of the city's elite. By day, I was his pet snake. By night, I would crawl into his bed and desperately siphon the vitality he radiated, all to fuel my transformation. It was then that I started seeing the comments. Text, floating in my vision. [Where is this pathetic snake even coiling? Does she have any idea what she’s doing? Move over, I’ll show you how it’s done.] [It’s fine. The male lead gives her to the female lead at her birthday party anyway. The nasty snake gets dropped and dies by accident. Serves her right.] [And her brother tries to get revenge on the female lead, but the male lead just has him barbecued and feeds him to the dogs.] A shudder of pure terror made my body constrict. On the bed, the sleeping Michael Moy let out a sudden, muffled groan. 1. After my brother, Silas, successfully took human form, he brought me—still a simple snake—to the heart of the city. “I’ve found you a man with pure life force, a perfect vessel,” he told me. “Stick with him for a while, and I guarantee you’ll have your human form in no time.” “Once you’ve transformed,” he added, “sneak out during the night. I’ll be waiting for you at the gates of his estate.” And just like that, I was gifted to Michael Moy. The problem was, he was almost never home. I had to wait for the housekeeper to be distracted before I could slip out of my enclosure. I’d slither into his walk-in closet and absorb the lingering traces of his vitality from his clothes. But most of them were laundered, the potent energy washed out until only a faint whisper remained. It was barely enough to be considered a snack, leaving me feeling hollow and unsatisfied. A week later, I’d drained nearly every garment in his closet dry. I managed to shed my skin once—a meager step forward. To achieve human form, I needed to shed my skin a hundred times over. Just as I was sinking into despair, Michael Moy returned. He wore a tailored suit that sharpened the already severe lines of his face, giving him an aura of untouchable authority. An invisible wall of ice seemed to emanate from him, warning everyone to keep their distance. But to me? He was a walking feast. His entire being radiated a raw, intoxicating vitality that made my mouth water. His cold gaze fell upon me. His brow furrowed slightly as he spoke to a nearby maid, his voice a blade of ice. “Is this snake an idiot? It’s drooling.” I wasn’t even listening. I was completely captivated. I flicked my tongue out in a gesture of what I hoped was charming subservience. He barely glanced at me before striding away to his study. 2. His time at home was precious. I couldn’t afford to waste a single opportunity. The moment the housekeeper’s back was turned, I expertly slipped out of my glass tank. I followed the magnetic pull of Michael’s life force to the door of his study. He was at his desk, engrossed in his work, completely oblivious to my presence. His discarded suit jacket lay on the floor. I darted towards it, greedily drinking in the energy clinging to the fabric. An unwashed garment, fresh off his body, was a hundred times more potent than the sterile clothes in his closet. His scent filled my senses, a heady mix of expensive cologne and pure, masculine warmth. I was so overwhelmed with pleasure that I began to roll around on the jacket. Suddenly, the jacket was yanked away. Michael was staring down at me, his expression unreadable. “How did you get out?” I coiled into a tight, small ball, tucking my head beneath my body in a futile attempt to become invisible. He watched me with the kind of look one gives a particularly stupid animal, then pinched me between two fingers and lifted me from the floor. As he carried me back downstairs to my tank, the warmth of his skin against mine was electrifying. I took the chance to draw in as much of his energy as I could, gulping it down in greedy mouthfuls. When he placed me back inside the glass enclosure, I couldn’t resist a final, lingering lick of his fingers. Michael stared at the spot I had touched. His brow furrowed in disgust as he pulled a silk pocket square from his jacket and meticulously wiped his hand clean. I was so infuriated by the gesture that I spun around in my tank three times. What was that supposed to mean? Was I… repulsive to him? 3. Late that night, I escaped again and slithered into Michael’s bedroom. To my surprise, he was still awake, shrugging off his shirt to reveal a landscape of hard, sculpted muscle. I froze in the doorway, a wave of heat washing over me. The primal urge to surge forward, to wrap myself around him and drink my fill, was nearly overwhelming. But I restrained myself. For the long game, for a steady supply of his vitality, I had to be patient. He padded toward the bathroom. The moment the door clicked shut, I scurried into the room, making a beeline for his discarded underwear. The energy here was explosive, several times more powerful than his suit jacket. I lost myself in it, drunk on the sheer potency, completely forgetting that I was supposed to be hiding. “What are you doing?!” I snapped back to reality and looked up. Michael was standing there, fresh from the shower, his voice a cocktail of shock and fury. Panicked, I clamped his underwear on my head and made a run for it. He chased right after me, relentless. The fabric blinded me, and I slammed headfirst into a wall, dazed and confused. He snatched his underwear back and held me up. “What the hell are you doing, sneaking into my room to steal my briefs?” I went limp, playing dead. He chuckled, a low, humorless sound. “Dead? Perfect. I could use a little midnight snack. Ever tried grilled snake?” I immediately sprang back to life, flicking my tongue at him twice and nudging my head against his hand in a plea for forgiveness. He paused, a flicker of surprise in his eyes, before another, softer laugh escaped him. “I haven’t given you a name yet, have I? How about… Cleo?” As he spoke, he carried me back to my tank, this time placing a heavy vase on the lid to seal my fate. Before he left, he leaned down. “Be a good girl, Cleo. Stay put.” 4. Michael stayed home for a single day before leaving on another business trip. This time, he was gone for a month. In that month, I managed to shed my skin four times. By the time he returned, I was starving, desperate for another taste of his vitality. The moment he walked through the door, I threw all caution to the wind and launched myself at him. He froze for a fraction of a second, stunned. It was all the time I needed. I had already coiled around his ankle, my body a living vine scaling his leg, frantically absorbing his energy. His entire body went rigid. When he finally snapped out of his shock, he pried me off his leg, his voice tight with annoyance. “Cleo! What has gotten into you?!” Ignoring him, I used the momentum to wrap myself around his wrist, my tongue darting out to lick the back of his hand. His jaw tightened. The housekeeper rushed over, gently but firmly removing me from his arm and placing me back in my tank. The brief contact had restored some of my strength, but it wasn’t enough. I needed more. Even with the heavy vase weighing down the lid, I rammed my head against it again and again until it shifted, creating a gap just wide enough for me to squeeze through. After a moment’s rest, I made a beeline for his room. He was soaking in the bathtub, his head tilted back, his eyes closed. Emboldened, I crept closer to the hand he had draped over the edge of the tub. His fingers were long and elegant, the knuckles well-defined. Tentatively, I licked one. No reaction. I coiled around his finger and began to climb his arm. Still nothing. I pressed on, slithering up to his shoulder. The steam rising from the hot water was uncomfortable, a suffocating blanket of heat, but the prize was too close to abandon. I navigated the column of his neck, my gaze fixed on his lips. That intoxicating heat flared inside me again. I began to lick them, a frantic, desperate tasting. I no longer cared if he woke up. The simple touch wasn't enough. I wanted to bite him. After a moment of deliberation, I did. I sank my fangs into his lower lip. Michael’s eyes fluttered open. He captured my head in his hand, his gaze hazy with sleep. “Licking is one thing,” he murmured, his voice thick and drowsy, “but biting? That’s new.” I saw the two tiny red dots on his lip and felt a strange pang of guilt. It wasn't my fault he was so delicious. “You little deviant,” he scolded softly. “Aren’t you afraid of being boiled alive in here just for a taste?” I nudged his hand with my head. He watched me for a long moment, then a slow smile spread across his face. “Wrap around my hand.” Michael rose from the tub, wrapped a towel around his waist, and carried me downstairs. Back in the tank I went. This time, I didn’t fight it. I was full, content, and I drifted into a deep, satisfying sleep. 5. Michael was gone for another month. But that last encounter had been so potent that I shed my skin a full fourteen times while he was away. When he returned, I was so deep in slumber I didn’t even notice him approach my tank. He tapped on the glass, jolting me from a pleasant dream. I blinked my eyes open, disoriented. He reached in and lifted me out. “What’s this?” he asked, a note of displeasure in his voice. “Forgotten all about me after just a month? Last time you practically threw yourself at me. Now you can’t even be bothered to wake up.” I didn’t understand what he was talking about. Instinct took over. I wrapped myself around his wrist and began to lap at the back of his hand. He stroked my head with his other hand. “Did you miss me this month?” I ignored the question, focusing on the slow, steady intake of his intoxicating energy. He carried me upstairs with him, but paused at the bathroom door, placing me on the bed. “You are not allowed in here,” he warned, his voice firm. “That water will cook you alive. You wait here, understand?” I nodded my head fearfully. But the moment he stepped inside, I followed him, peeking my head around the doorframe. He turned and fixed me with a stern look. “Cleo. Out.” I pretended to retreat, then waited a moment before poking my head back through the gap. Michael tilted his head, a wry smile playing on his lips. “I knew you’d try again.” Feeling guilty, I withdrew and slithered back to the bed. When he emerged from the bathroom, he lay down beside me. I immediately crawled onto the hard plane of his abdomen. He closed his eyes, allowing me to lick the taut skin. His voice, when he finally spoke, was a raw, husky whisper. “Cleo… a little lower.” I obeyed, moving downward. I coiled around him. The fire inside me roared to life. 6. Michael’s frantic schedule seemed to ease. He started coming home every night, sometimes even working from the mansion during the day. After that first night, I shed ten skins in a single day. So it became our routine. Every night, after he fell asleep, I would slip into his room, crawl onto his bed, and drink my fill of his vitality. Until the day the comments appeared again. [Is this not supposed to be a PG story? Where the hell did this scene come from?] [A snake… oh god, I can’t handle this!] [When did the male lead develop this… particular fetish?!] [Suddenly I want to buy a snake.] [I can’t watch anymore. Thank god he gives her to the female lead at the birthday party. The evil snake gets dropped and dies. Finally.] [And her brother comes for revenge, only to be grilled by the male lead and fed to the dogs.] My body tightened involuntarily. The sleeping Michael let out a sharp hiss of breath. I froze, terrified. But he seemed to settle again, his breathing evening out, though a flush had crept up his cheeks. I started to pull away, my mind still reeling from the prophetic text. Suddenly, Michael’s eyes opened. He looked straight at me. “Why’d you stop?” The thought of him giving me away, of him cooking my brother, erased every other thought from my mind. In a surge of pure fury, I lunged forward and bit his finger. He hissed in pain but didn’t shake me off. Instead, his voice was surprisingly gentle. “Who upset you?” He stroked my head with his thumb. “Let go when you’re tired of biting, Cleo.” And I was tired. I released his finger. According to my count, I only needed to shed my skin about twenty more times to achieve my human form. The comments said the female lead’s birthday was in two days. If I could complete my transformation in that time, I could escape. I wouldn’t be given away. My brother wouldn’t be harmed. Fueled by a new, desperate anger, I slithered back to my original position and coiled around him once more. Michael just smiled and settled back against the pillows. 7. The next day, the doorbell rang. A young woman with her hair in a messy bun bounced into the house. She linked her arm through Michael’s, her voice a sugary pout. “Uncle Michael, my birthday is coming up! What are you getting me?” Michael’s eyes never left the document in his hand. “You’ll find out when the time comes.” She beamed. “Your gift is always the one I look forward to the most.” He finally set the file aside and offered her a faint smile. “Lily, if you have nothing better to do, you should probably head home. I’m quite busy.” I watched them from my tank, my head raised. Lily just huffed playfully and began to wander around the room. Her gaze landed on me. “Uncle, what a beautiful snake! Is she my birthday present?” Michael walked over, moving her hand away from my enclosure. His voice was cold. “No.” [He’s such a terrible liar. This was obviously the gift he got for her.] [He probably wanted it to be a surprise, and now that she’s found out, he’s playing coy.] [It fits his character perfectly. He’s cold and aloof on the outside, but madly in love on the inside.] [Totally. He tells her to go home, but he’s secretly thrilled she’s here.] [And when she actually leaves, he’ll be miserable. I live for this trope.] So this was her. The one who would kill me. I stared at her, my gaze hardening. Murderer. Lily frowned, clearly annoyed. “Can I at least pet her?” “No,” Michael said flatly. “She bites.” She crossed her arms. “Well, if you don’t let me, I’m just going to stay here all day!” Michael’s brow twitched in irritation. After a moment’s thought, he reached into the tank and lifted me out. There was no way I was letting my killer touch me. I shot up Michael’s arm and burrowed under his shirt. His muscles clenched. He reached into his shirt, pulled me out, and carried me back to his room. He tapped my head lightly. “Next time, you are not to crawl into my clothes in front of other people. Understood?” He then added, “And you are not to crawl into anyone else’s clothes but mine. Ever. Got it?” I went limp, playing dead. Sorry, no speak English. He scooped me up. “Cleo, if you don’t behave, you won’t be sleeping with me tonight.” But I needed to shed my skin, and time was running out. I instantly perked up, nudging his hand affectionately. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “That’s more like it.” A knock came from the bedroom door. It was Lily. “Uncle Michael? Are you okay in there? That snake is so disobedient. Maybe you should just get rid of it.” Michael, still holding me, opened the door. “Are you ready to leave now? Or should I call your father to come pick you up?” Lily glared at him, then spun on her heel and stormed out. [Classic male lead. Pushing away the woman he loves. He’s going to spend ages trying to win her back after this.] [It’s okay, he’ll show up at her birthday party with the snake as a peace offering.] 8. That night, I resumed my usual position, coiled around him. The silence of the room amplified every sound, every shift, every soft breath. Michael’s voice was a low growl in the darkness. “Tighter, Cleo.” I constricted, my cool body slowly heating until it felt like I was burning from the inside out. It was a strange agony, both painful and exquisitely pleasurable. Two hours later, I couldn’t take the intensity anymore. I uncoiled and slithered away, collapsing in a corner of the room. I felt like I was melting. My skin began to peel away, layer after layer. I don’t know when he moved, but suddenly Michael was there, crouching in front of me. He reached out a hand, his touch gentle. “Cleo, why are you so hot?” He watched me, his thumb stroking my new skin. “Shedding again,” he murmured. “It seems you’re getting close.” He placed me back in my tank. I fell into a hazy, disoriented sleep. When I awoke, I felt… different. Bigger. I pushed my way out of the tank. And there they were. Four limbs. After another period of strange, rapid metamorphosis, I was finally, fully human. I stumbled to a full-length mirror and stared at the reflection. A woman with pale, delicate skin stared back, though patches of iridescent blue scales still clung to her body like jewels. 9. As I was examining my new form, I heard footsteps from upstairs. Panicked, I shifted back into my snake form and scrambled into the glass tank just as Michael appeared. He walked over to the tank and reached inside, stroking my body. “Your fever’s gone down.” He lifted me out and carried me toward the bedroom. He placed me on his abdomen and rested his hand over me. I waited until his breathing was deep and even, then carefully wriggled free and made my way to the window. It was only then that I realized it was shut. Taking a deep breath, I transformed back into a human. As my fingers touched the latch, a cold voice sliced through the silence from behind me. “And where do you think you’re going, Cleo?”

? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "394259", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel