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The love-making was powerful, ardent, passionate, and very deep. The beautiful blonde-haired, blue-eyed vixen moaned and wrapped strong legs and ankles around trembling warmth, held it and cherished it, even as a slick, almost-burning hot, barbed shaft started to fill her once again, as deep as she could take it. The throbbing heat buried itself within her until she could feel full balls pressed to her folds. It was so big and thick. Despite already taking him once, and even with the increased and continuous flow of her juices, it was still painful. She rushed to orgasm, screaming his name, her body racked with jerks and shakes, her thighs quivering as each gush of cum flowed over the next, until she was dripping wet, oozing from between her thighs uncontrollably and onto the sheets.

She felt him trying to leave her, and she tightened her drenched walls around him, trying to hold his powerful sex inside of her body. As the barb scraped across her clit and hood on its way out, she whimpered in pain and pleasure, and as he left her entirely, a glut of her cum escaped, soaking her crotch-fur.

For several moments, she lay there, not moving, panting hard. "Emily..." She heard a soft voice next to her in the darkness, and then felt a gentle tickle along her ear, brushing warmth across the inner hairs.

The vixen smiled faintly, looking up at the bedroom ceiling. "I...I thought you had left." She turned to her side, naked, aroused once more, her russet fur still bathed in the sweat and scent of their incredible mating.

But there was nothing beside her, save for wrinkled, cream-stained, red satin sheets.

"Not just yet," the voice replied, "I wanted to thank you, Emily. For...for everything you've done. I guess I just felt like there was...something else...I had to do." There was a deep sigh, and she felt a rush of breath against her cheek fur.

She shivered. "What is it, lover?"

There was a chuckle this time, and she felt the warm, wet touch of a large cat tongue caress over her ears. "It's nothing. I don't feel like there's anything now. It just feels like there's...nothing. I just feel so...peaceful...so happy...so..."

Emily frowned as she realized what he was saying. She really liked Thomas Parson II. His companionship for the past two weeks had been memorable and had made her happy. Not as happy as she had been with Brett but happy enough. With Brett, it was-

She shook her head and her deep blue eyes welled with tears. "I'm happy too..." she whispered, and drew a paw along the empty side of the bed.

And this time she felt nothing at all.

There was nothing there.

She gasped, took in a deep breath to steady her shaken nerves, and then rolled back over, crying softly to sleep in the darkness, alone once more, a paw tucked between her legs.

**

"So you saw him again?"

"Just one last time, yes." The vixen pawed gently at her jeans, stroking along the denim, looking thoughtful. "He was nice, gentle, very, very giving." She smiled sadly. "He reminded me so much of...of...Brett."

The vixen across from her nodded and started writing again on her notepad. "A lot different from some of the others that you've said aren't quite so nice."

Emily glanced at her sharply. "Yes. Some have thrown me on the bed, or lifted me up and slammed me against the ceiling. Some have bound me, beat me up, and forced themselves. Some even raped me. One nearly drowned me..."

Dr. Grace Turner looked over her bifocals at the other vixen, curious. "Drowned you...? Have we talked about this incident?"

Emily shook her head. "No. This was a few days ago. I...I was doing laps in the gym and was resting against the side of the pool. I was really horny. The water and all...it reminded me of swimming with Brett in the summers. I suddenly felt a..."

"A presence."

"Yes. I don't know who or what it was, really. It pinned me against the side of the pool and fucked me. Didn't even bother to undress me, or move my bikini aside, you know, so it could get at my pussy?" She licked her lips and sighed. "It just...rammed right into me. No warning. I was so startled I hadn't time to do anything, and then it was dragging me to the bottom of the pool. As I held my breath, all I saw was a large silvery outline in all that cold water. It pinned me to the bottom and thrust into me, and I saw blood coming out of me...and I...I guess it realized what it was doing finally and let go of me. And then it was gone."

The doctor frowned. "It really didn't care much about you, did it?"

"No." Emily folded her paws into her lap. "You know it happens sometimes."

"Maybe those are the ones with the real issues, the ones who can't move on. Maybe he was a serial rapist, for all you know. For him to move on might guarantee him a good long stint in purgatory - or worse." Grace switched off her recorder and put it aside. "Emily, how long have you been coming to me now? Eight months or so?"

"I suppose. Yes, because I came to you just as winter was ending, I remember."

"Actually I know exactly when you came to see me. It was March 21. It was after the memorial for...well, for Brett. Do you remember?"

"Yes." Emily looked up at her. "After his death. February 14th. Valentine's Day."

Grace got up from her chair and came around the desk to look out the office window. "Of all my years doing this, being the...trusting soul, the advisor for several women like you, I must admit you are the most unique case I've ever encountered, Ms. Jensen."

"Sometimes I wonder why you even believe me..."

Grace pursed her lips and turned from the window. "Of course I do. Remember, I was here when a presence appeared in this very room. I..." She swallowed a lump in her throat. Yes, she remembered the whole thing, a little too clearly. The way Emily's blouse buttons had popped off, and her breasts had swayed free, seemingly mashed together and massaged by invisible paws, while she moaned on the couch. It had taken hardly any time at all for the vixen to wet herself in ecstasy. "Anyway," she countered, moving back to the sofa to sit beside her. "It's interesting that lately your lovers are starting to remind you of your late fiancée. Why do you suppose that is?"

Emily folded her arms against herself and trembled. "You're the shrink, Grace. You're supposed to tell me, remember?"

Grace smiled and flipped her recorder on again. "I truly think you're hoping he'll come to you. That if you start reminiscing more, or if you continue to think about him in the throes of sex, he'll somehow sense your want for him and appear."

Emily licked her lips and looked away, pretending to be interested in the wallpaper. "M-maybe. I...I do miss him very much...I need him so much sometimes, late at night, especially when I'm asleep. I'm...so used to him being beside me, and now..."

"Why did Mr. Parson appeal so much to you?"

Emily chuckled. "I don't know that either. Maybe because he was a lion like Brett, and he had a really nice personality. He was a loving, doting father. Strong family roots. Very kind-hearted and friendly, and...he made me laugh a lot, even while we were making love-" She glanced at Grace, noticing her expression. "Alright, alright, he was perfect, and had I known he existed, I would have probably married him on the spot. Happy?"

Grace smirked. "I wouldn't blame you. Apparel tycoon's son, fully loaded, father of two loving cubs, two ex-wives. Seems like he'd have been quite the catch for a girl. And then, the terrible car crash."

"It was so sudden too, that accident," Emily pointed out, crossing her legs. "I don't think he was ready to die so soon. That's why I think he stayed a little longer with me than most."

"They normally don't, do they? Some you see and it's a one-and-done situation."

"It's not always sex," Emily countered defensively, "Sometimes they just want to cuddle and talk to me."

Grace nodded. "Well, we know they come to you for something, be it sex, passion, stimulating conversation. How I envy you."

"Don't."

"No, I do." She got up from the sofa and went back to her desk, folding her paws behind her. "You can talk to the dead, Emily. And it's incredible. I think it's fascinating that the spirits visit you. Maybe it's for some wild last fling, a quick fuck, to seek out a fantasy they sought in their other lives, a shoulder to cry on, whatever. Maybe sometimes they just need someone to listen to them. But whatever the case, you need to realize that they seek your comfort." She put her glasses aside and sighed. "You have a very, very powerful gift, something I can't even fathom. If I could only breach patient confidentiality, I could sell you to a reality TV show studio and we'd make untold billions."

Emily lay back on the couch and sighed. "Maybe I don't want this...gift, as you call it, anymore, Grace. Nine months now this has gone on. And it comes at almost any waking moment. I need to take Benedryl every night just to get a good six hours sleep." She covered her eyes with an arm. "And God knows how many of them are intruding into my bedroom, pawing at me, maybe even having sex with me without me knowing. They come to me in swimming pools, on the subway, at work, or in the grocery store."

"Who was that?"

"Oh...Brian Tanner. The young college freshman who overdosed on cocaine at Kent State? I told you about him, right?"

Grace frowned and consulted her smartphone. "No, I don't think you did. There were so many you haven't really talked about though. What did he do? Call me curious."

Emily sighed. "I was picking up cucumbers and he...well...he led me to the bathroom and...used a cucumber on me."

"Oh my God!"

"It's alright, he was gentle." She bit her lip. "Actually...it...it was kind of hot. I guess he was so nervous about his size, he wanted to give my pussy something big to play with."

"Did he stay long?"

"No...just fucked me with the cold cucumber and left. I never felt his presence again."

"Obviously he had a food fetish he never fully explored." Grace frowned and looked at a container on her desk. "Well, that image just ruined my salad for lunch."

Emily snickered this time. "I'm sorry." She really adored her psychologist. There were times she felt lost and confused over her gifts, and speaking to her supervisor, her friends, and her minister did not offer many opportunities for opening up. Dr. Grace Turner was her shelter from the storm. "What still bothers me is why this is happening. I feel like I'm a magnet to them. That I'm some sort of bright light for them to head towards. But I don't promise paradise."

"To some, maybe you do. We just need to understand better." Grace smoothly changed topics. "Tell me more about Thomas."

Emily smiled and stretched cat-like on the sofa, humming. "Very hot. He actually stayed quite a while. Two weeks. Longer than some of the others."

"Why did he keep coming back to you personally though? Spirits normally, at least in most cases, go off and explore their lives, or visit loved ones. Sometimes they will haunt a certain location, maybe close to where they died. Are you sure Thomas wasn't, you know, banging on your kitchen cupboards or-"

"No," Emily insisted. "I'd notice. It wasn't like that at all. You're referring to a poltergeist. No. He just came to my bed at night and stayed with me a few hours." She sat up and blinked a few times. "I guess he really missed his cubs. He talked about them a lot, and how he'd go to visit with them, to see how they were doing since his death. He'd follow them to the playground nearby and watch them for hours." Her gaze turned distant. "He used to tell me he could feel the wind against his fur, or the hot sun beating down. And to him, it seemed like he was still...there, you know?"

"I do." Grace got up from the couch and sat back down next to her feet. "Ghosts like him are few and far between, Emily. His presence was so powerful, that not even death could keep him away. That's how strong some of them are. Sure, they may think they're dead and gone, or know in their hearts and minds that they are, but it's the soul inside them that really controls it all. Our bodies are merely vessels to our souls. Some souls accept being departed and move forward. Others like Thomas, Brian and the like, well...they still had, or have, something that prevented them from doing so."

Emily watched the psychologist intently, staying quiet.

"And that could be a reason they are drawn to you, Emily. They might sense a...well, for lack of a better one, I'll go with the _Star Wars_analogy. They sense a disturbance in your force. They sense your great want for Brett and so they are drawn to fulfill those wants with you - whether you desire them or not."

"Do you know when was the last time I had sex with a real fur, skin, and bones person, Grace? Not since Brett left me on Valentine's Day night, after proposing to me. We made love in front of a warm, roaring fireplace, and he placed a diamond ring on me, and told me to marry him. He didn't ask. 'Marry me, Em. Make me completely happy,' he said. And I told him I would..." Her eyes started to fill again and she angrily wiped at them. "And...and he left...to get us more champagne and...he never came back. He was hit by a car and he died! I...I never got to say goodbye! I never got to see him again!" She burst into tears and long, ragged sobs tore from her. "Why won't he come back to me?!"

Grace moved over to the vixen and squeezed her shoulder, trying not to cry as well. "Emily, Emily, shh-shhh. Please...calm down, girl. It'll be okay, I promise. We just want-" She trembled suddenly as the air around the room turned chilly and her fur stood on end. She glanced at the bay window, at the venetian blinds opening and then closing completely, blotting out the streaming sunlight. "Emily...?"

At once, she felt it. It started as a cool sensation along her legs and traveled up behind her and along her back, causing her tail to bottlebrush. She felt the touch surround her, and then the soft, gentle paws of someone stroking her face. She held still, transfixed, waiting as the unseen paws moved from her face and then along her sweater, slowly tracing and caressing her ripe breasts through the bra.

Beside her, Emily seemed in a trace, her head tilted back, eyes closed, a soft murring issuing from her throat. Her paw stole between her legs, and rubbed fitfully across the denim around her crotch. She could feel a coolness trace across her fur. She held still, puffing softly as the button-fly of her jeans suddenly unsnapped, the flaps spread out, and the zipper came down. The cooling sensation spread down, taking her denims with it down her hips, until black thong panties were visible.

Grace crossed her arms in front of her, trying to ward the intruder away from her breasts, and felt her sweater involuntarily being lifted up, despite her attempt to tug and pull it back down. "No..." she whimpered, and tried to push off the couch to stand up. The coolness suddenly became tighter around her, and the air rushed from her as she was hugged forcefully, until she was nearly gasping for another breath. She was pushed down onto the couch on her back, and she could feel large, strong, clawed paws against her ass, squeezing and kneading her flesh through soft fur. She opened her mouth to cry out - and then was silenced as a slick wetness covered it, halting her sounds.

It was a kiss, but none like she had ever felt before. It was cool, nearly cold, but with it, she sensed a warmth nonetheless. She breathed heavily through her nose as the coolness invaded her mouth and played delicately, deeply with her tongue. Instinctively, she returned the kiss, still whimpering, allowing the intrusion to probe her mouth, to bat and slide along her tongue, until her mouth was nearly full of a combination of scents and tastes. She swallowed, and it was like sugar.

Emily moaned loudly as her own companion's cool touch had retreated into her panties, reaching for and then stroking her moist heat with the care and delicacy given for a flower's petals. She shifted and squirmed on the couch, the lust inside her rising until she could no longer control it. The vixen reached for and pulled down her panties, exposing her furry mound, the labia already swollen, fully aroused and aching. She opened her eyes to watch as the fur around her sex was slowly stroked, brushed, and then pulled away. In that moment, she felt a slippery, slimy, and cold tongue tasting her, giving her folds several long, dribbling licks, from the bottom of netherlips up to the buttoned clit and hood. She bit her bottom lip hard at the seduction, and gripped the couch arm, panting loudly and looking around wild-eyed at the psychologist.

Grace's legs were now hiked up and inward, wrapped around something invisible and large. She moaned between kisses, her mouth dripping of saliva as she tilted her head back and forth, trying to get her tongue deeper into the imperceptible mouth. She suddenly felt her slacks and then her panties being jerked down, and then the touch of a curious furry digit exploring her folds eagerly. She looked down between her legs, breathing heavily, the excitement of mating quite readable on her face. She kicked weakly, her high-heels hitting the floor, and spread her legs, tilting her hips in invitation.

He was big, much bigger than she had ever had. She let out a soundless cry, squeezing her eyes shut, her stomach tied in knots, as something thick, long, and very cold at first touched, pushed, and then nestled into her sex, her labia instantly seizing it with a warm, slick grip, trying to get it deeper. "Ohh...oh God, oh God..." she kept moaning, holding still as the thick, transparent shaft settled into her balls-deep, filling her completely.

Emily was pushed off of the couch and then rolled over onto her stomach, forced to all-fours. She cried out as the paws clamped hard around her breasts, and then the cool, gentle intrusion of a hard, aroused male sex nudged against her clit, forcing her folds to spread wide. Soon after, she felt something big, smooth, and very hard pushing into her body, taking her to ecstatic heights as the length nestled deeply, slid out, and then thrust back in again several times, pounding into her.

Grace held still, her head thrown back, mouth open, trying to breathe as inch by inch the powerful shaft inside of her thrust and pistoned, wetting her ceaselessly, combining their juices, until orgasm overtook her. She felt warmth suddenly - the only warmth she could. At first, it was a spatter, and then a trickle, and then several long spurts filled her, spraying her vaginal walls as they clenched and squeezed with renewed ecstasy. It felt like a faucet had gone off inside of her. She moaned loudly and grabbed tighter with her legs around her unseen lover, holding still, allowing it to finish cumming inside of her.

Emily too had reached her own orgasm, her tail whipping uncontrollably as one more hard thrust spread her wet, tight walls, and she could feel the warmth of an explosive climax starting to fill her. She stayed on her paws and knees, panting hard, feeling the tightness against her breasts as more and more ethereal fluids washed into her depths. She wiggled her asscheeks, timing each spurt of cum with a squeeze and clench from her inner folds, until she felt the warmth leaving her. Her breasts were released, and she crumpled to the floor, gasping for breath and shaking all over, joining the other vixen next to her, also spent and exhausted.

"Oh...Oh, Em...Em..." Grace was shaking all over and the other vixen pulled her into her arms until they could snuggle, their heartbeats thudding like triphammers. "Oh...my...God...that-that...that was amazing..." She murred and gently nuzzled Emily's chin. "Ooh...I can see how this...could be a good thing..."

Emily got her breath back slowly and nodded, wincing at the soreness between her legs. "I...heard him. They were..." She swallowed hard and looked at Grace. "Brothers. They both died in a plane crash. Young bears. Teenagers. Ohh...they..." She sat up slowly, hugging Grace to her as she continued, still panting. "They never had sex. They were virgins. They just wanted to feel...loved, he said."

"Bears?" Grace shivered all over and rubbed her swollen, soaked folds. "Ohh, no wonder they were ...so big..." The vixen finally got her wind back and staggered to her knees, crawling over to the desk and lifting herself up. "Emily...I...I think we...p-proved what's going on. I'm not quite sure if you should move on past Brett or not but..." She paused, biting her lip. "All this hurt, all this ache...inside you. It's building lust and...somehow these spirits sense that lust. They see you as an easy target and they come to you and fuck you." She looked stunned at Emily, realization hitting her like a ton of bricks. "But...they're not just only doing that." There was a catch in her voice and she struggled with tears. "I...felt what you felt, just now. You never ever told me this part!"

"What? What didn't I tell you?!"

"He was cold, yes! But...when he...finished...in-inside me...he was warm." She looked at Emily steadily and tears flowed, wetting her cheeks. "I...I think some of them are coming to you and...then they move on. They find...warmth, happiness, and love with you. My God...you...you're like a passageway. You're their guide to the next life, the next realm. Don't you see?!"

Emily stared at her incredulously, her mouth open.

"Emily. To some, you are a gateway...to the next existence for souls."

"That-that's...crazy..." Emily sat down half-naked, shaking violently.

Grace pressed on. "You said you feel lust for Brett at times, right? But you also feel love. A sense of loss. I think certain spirits come to you for the sole purpose of...loving you...a-and sharing that love. When you feel a need for Brett, a sexual, urgent need, that is when you get the rough ones, those that just want the pleasure of your lust, and fuck you, and then go away. They're the ones still trapped in this realm. But others..."

Emily nodded, looking away. "Like Thomas. He...oh my God...the last time he touched me, he-he licked me and his tongue was so warm. And he...he said he was so happy and so peaceful and..."

"He left this world..." Grace finished for her, going to the couch and sitting down again. "He left because he was finished here. He was never married happily. He had the love of his cubs but he desired more. You gave him that extra love. You made him happy, and he was ready to move forwards. To his next plane of existence..." She gently cupped Emily's chin until she could look at her face. "I think that is exactly what is happening here, Emily. Your love and your lust are so powerful they transcend this dimension entirely - and intrude into the ethereal world."

She noticed the tape recorder still there - and still recording - and sheepishly switched it off, holding Emily closely as the tired vixen softly sobbed against her shoulder.

**

Months passed.

Emily took in an abundance of new ghostly lovers. The idea that she might be helping them to their final way-stations, to their next path, gave her responsibility and pride. Soon she was avoiding thoughts about lust for sexual gratification with Brett, and instead focused on their memories together, walking along a moonlit beach, snuggled naked in front of the television on the sofa, and sharing an ice cream sundae on a warm summer's day. By doing so, the spirits that met with her felt true love.

In time, she learned to curb her lust entirely and focus solely on Brett's love for her. But even those thoughts were starting to fade. As more time passed, and she enjoyed sharing her love with others, their needs began to replace her own. With the sexual thoughts already set aside, she began to forget about Brett as well. In time, her love for him also faded. She even went out a few times with others, enjoying their company, but never really ready to make a commitment to intimacy.

The memories of Brett paled more and more, as another year, and then another passed by. There came one night where she tried to think of her fiancée, but all she had left was his face, fleeting images of his nude body, and the warm smile on his face before he left her house and this world forever.

Once her love had truly passed, the otherworldly visits stopped entirely.

As she lay in bed one lonely night, naked under the sheets, she focused as hard as she could on her thoughts, fighting to salvage one last image she remembered of Brett, proposing to her on his knees in front of a crackling, burning fireplace, his mane practically glowing in the light, his deep brown eyes looking soulfully into hers, filled with nothing but happiness and peace.

She had almost fallen asleep when she felt a presence next to her, and this time it was warm and soothing, not cool and impartial. She opened her eyes slowly, looking at the handsome, familiar lion now stretched out beside her, and blinked several times.

"B-Brett?" She whispered and tentatively reached a paw out to him. It was immediately swallowed up by his own and then kissed several times, warm, moist touches that set her soul afire with renewed lust almost immediately.

She whimpered, closing her eyes, thinking it was all a dream.

And then he spoke to her. "Hello, Em."

The vixen gasped and her eyes flew open like window-shades. She scrambled to sit up on the bed, staring at him in disbelief. "Brett." She leaned closer, looking at him. The same warm brown eyes, the bright smile, the soft black whiskers, the long black mane, the broad chest and coconut shoulders. "Brett..." she trembled and felt his warm body envelop hers in a bone-crushing hug. "What-what are...why are you...I...I..." She pulled away from him and touched his mouth, tracing over his thick lips. "I can see you...oh God, I can touch you..." She whispered, still caressing.

The lion grinned broadly and rubbed noses, pulling her into another hug. "I know, Em. I know. I'm here now...I'm here..."

"Oh, Brett." She murred softly and nuzzled his cheek and chin. "I missed you so much..."

The kiss that followed was like nothing she had ever experienced, as passionate and as searing as a flame. Her toes curled and her legs nearly buckled as she allowed the lion to lift her up from the bed and carry her. She squealed like a little girl and hooked her arms around his shoulders, clinging to him as they continued kissing.

He led her, floating, from the bedroom and out into the living room. The fireplace suddenly roared to life, as if a splash of gasoline had suddenly soaked the glowing embers. A silky-soft cotton blanket lifted up from the sofa and folded itself in front of the flames. Somewhere, the haunting sounds of an 80s love song echoed throughout the house.

"When I was / a younger man / I hadn't a caaaare..." Brett looked at Emily fondly and sang, slightly off-key.

The vixen giggled, stroking his cheek, and sang with him. "I was foolin' around / hittin' the town / growin' my haaaair. Ohhh, I remember this song, baby. We danced to this at the Prom, remember?" She petted his large nose. "Your father was so mad you took the car."

Brett grinned. "Hey, it was worth it after what you did to me afterwards..."

"Mmmm..." Emily smiled and kissed him softly as he laid her down onto the blanket on her back. "We were so lucky the cops didn't look inside and see...my paw...around your cock...stroking you..." She murred slowly, her heat rising, and lifted a foot up to nudge against the lion's stomach, pleased to see he was already so big and hard, like she always remembered. "Ohh...baby...I want you..."

Brett smiled and took her leg, pushing it away until he could nestle down on top of her, kissing her passionately, demanding, wet, deep tongue kisses that made the vixen want to gush. Her legs wrapped around him eagerly, already aroused to her very soul, eager for his warmth.

"You are so warm..." she whimpered, looking into his eyes, and she felt the welcome, barbed, and beautifully-thick lion-sex pushing into her, impaling her, causing her to cry out.

They made love by the fire for hours, the vixen and the lion, enjoying one another's touches, scents, sounds, and tastes, until they climaxed wildly together over and over. For a while, they snuggled naked, talking and laughing like old friends, before succumbing to their lust and making love again.

Afterwards, bathed in the glow of the dying fire, Emily felt a new warmth inside of her - a pounding in her chest that would not stop. Her heart was thudding and it was not slowing down. She gasped several times, trying to catch her breath as a crushing sensation enveloped her. A terrible agonizing pain started in her left arm and moved through her body, and she saw dim stars in her vision turn to red streaks and then to total darkness.

"Brett..." she whimpered and closed her eyes.

**

A cold wind swept through the house and the curtains in the living room parted briefly before falling again. Embers in the fireplace glowed brightly, fed by the sudden breeze, before fading back to dull orange. Voices, faint at first, grew louder as the wind slowly faded.

"And this picture?"

A girlish giggle. "Oh, God...the bike. You fell into the river. You were so terrified over losing the bike and getting spanked."

Laughter. "I'm just glad you got it. Remember the Fourth of July picnic? We went swimming at the lake with the guys and you got really horny and-"

More laughter. "Oh God! Yeeees. You practically drowned me trying to keep me underwater sucking you off, all the while trying to tell the other boys to go away!"

"Mmm...that was so hot though, vixen."

"It was. Not as hot as our skiing trip, making love in the hot-tub and getting caught-"

"Oh, nonono. You _let_that happen. You're not putting that one on me, woman!"

Simultaneous laughter followed, bubbly and excited.

A kiss, laced with soft, soothing murrs and deep purring. "I love you, Brett..."

"I love you too, Emily." A long pause. "So...do you think you're ready to go now?"

"Yes, my love," the breathless reply came. "I am."

The wind rushed through the house once more, moving through the curtains, sending them fluttering. It filled the bedroom and rippled across the satin sheets. It dove across the still-glowing embers and extinguished them entirely, returning the room to darkness.

And then there was silence.

There was nothing there.

END