# Chapter 14: The Offer

Amelia lay on her stomach across the motel bed, her avian legs stretched out behind her, her tail feathers fanned across her lower back. The TV flickered with some baking competition, but she wasn't really watching. Her mind kept circling back to the same thought, over and over.

John is human now.

She turned her head to look at him. He sat in the armchair near the window, one leg crossed over the other, scrolling through his phone. His human leg. His human foot, in a clean sock. He looked so normal. So unaffected.

The word hit her like a jolt.

"John," she said, her voice sharp.

He looked up. "Yeah?"

Amelia pushed herself up on her elbows. Her heart was pounding. "The scroll. The one I translated. It said the curse could be broken if the transformed person shares a bed with one unaffected."

John's brow furrowed. "Right. The buck was unaffected, and it worked for me."

"No." Amelia's eyes widened. "You're unaffected now. You're human."

John's face went still.

"Don't you see?" Amelia's voice rose with desperate hope. "You can have sex with me right now. Tonight. And in the morning, I'll be human again!"

John set his phone down slowly. He stood up, his expression unreadable. "Amelia..."

"Please." She scrambled off the bed, her talons clicking on the cheap carpet. "We don't have to wait for some farm. We don't have to find a rooster. You're right here."

John took a step back. "I... I don't know if that works. The scroll said 'one unaffected,' but it was talking about an animal, not a human who was cured."

"It didn't specify! It just said 'one unaffected'!" Amelia's voice cracked. "Please, John. I can't spend another day like this. I can't have a rooster mount me. I can't."

John's jaw worked. His eyes darted to the door, then back to her. "Amelia, I... I don't think I can."

"Why not?" She turned around and bent over the edge of the bed, her human hands gripping the floral bedspread. She reached back with one hand, lifting her tail feathers, pulling her cloaca open.

The sight of it made John flinch.

Her cloaca was already pulsing, a slow rhythmic contraction that revealed the pink, fleshy interior. Moisture gleamed at its opening. A thin strand of fluid dripped down her thigh.

"Look," Amelia …