his thick neck to settle on his head. She struggled to make out the fine details of his face, but couldn’t see anything beyond his glinting eyes, eyes that appeared to be centered on her.
“ I would not need to lure you into a cave to kill you.” A deep, masculine voice. A voice that commanded obedience. “Go in or go away, just make up your mind quickly. I need to cover our tracks.”
With that, he brushed past her, his booted feet crunching loudly in the snow.
Sarah didn’t hesitate. Refusing to give herself time to think and inevitably talk herself out of what she was about to do, she walked inside.
CHAPTER TWO
Without seasoning or sauces, the fish tasted as unpleasant as it smelled. Although she recognized on some level that it was disgusting, Sarah tore into its charred flesh, ripping its meat off indiscriminately.
The werewolf watched her from the other side of the room, too far away for her to gauge his expression. She tried to feign disinterest in him, but as the fire warmed her and the f ish sated her hunger, she started to run out of other things to focus on.
He had been gone for only a few minutes, coming back with a few branches for kindling. She’d half expected him to rub sticks together to make a fire, but to her surprise he rummaged through a small, blue duffle bag, extracting a matchbook. Once the fire had been lit, he took the fish from her, speared it with a stick, and rested it over the flames. After that, he’d left again, not coming back until after she’d already begun eating.
When she was nearly finished, it occurred to Sarah that he hadn’t eaten, and she wondered if they were supposed to share the fish. Looking to the werewolf, she held up what was left of the fish.
“Are you hungry?”
“I do not eat fish,” he replied .
She resisted the urge to ask him what he did eat, telling herself she probably didn’t want to know the answer. She went back to picking at the fish, this time stealing covert glances at him from the corners of her eyes. He was large, bigger than any man she’d ever seen. He leaned against the stone wall of the cavern, staring off towards the entrance with his arms crossed over his chest.
W hen her stomach was full, Sarah put what remained of the fish aside and set to warming her hands over the crackling fire. She stole another glance at him while trying to think of something to say.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” he asked.
“Like what?” She couldn’t gauge his tone, and was still having trouble making out his facial expression.
“You were glaring at me. You still are.”
She held her hands defensively. “No, you have it all wrong. I’m squinting. I lost my glasses in the accident and my eyesight is really bad.” Nervously, she added, “I’m sorry, I’ve just never seen a…a werewolf before.”
He tilted his head, regarding her. After a brief pause, he pushed off of the wall. Clearing the room in three long strides, the werewolf crouched down in front of her. Sarah kept her eyes on him, her jaw slackening as he came into focus.
The firelight highlighted the sharp contours of his face . It was a powerfully masculine appearance. A strong jaw, heavy brow, and slanted cheekbones. His nose looked as if it had been broken in the past, yet somehow fit perfectly with the ruggedness of his façade. Everything about the shape of his face seemed designed to draw its hapless victim up to his eyes—striking eyes of burnished gold that seized her gaze, making her unable to look away.
“Well?” he asked, his voice reverberating from somewhere deep inside his chest. “ Is it what you expected of a werewolf?”
“No.” Sarah breathed the word. Her heart was hammering again, but this time for an entirely different reason. She swallowed before saying, “I thought you’d be hairier.”
It must have been the right thing to say, because his lips curved
“ I would not need to lure you into a cave to kill you.” A deep, masculine voice. A voice that commanded obedience. “Go in or go away, just make up your mind quickly. I need to cover our tracks.”
With that, he brushed past her, his booted feet crunching loudly in the snow.
Sarah didn’t hesitate. Refusing to give herself time to think and inevitably talk herself out of what she was about to do, she walked inside.
CHAPTER TWO
Without seasoning or sauces, the fish tasted as unpleasant as it smelled. Although she recognized on some level that it was disgusting, Sarah tore into its charred flesh, ripping its meat off indiscriminately.
The werewolf watched her from the other side of the room, too far away for her to gauge his expression. She tried to feign disinterest in him, but as the fire warmed her and the f ish sated her hunger, she started to run out of other things to focus on.
He had been gone for only a few minutes, coming back with a few branches for kindling. She’d half expected him to rub sticks together to make a fire, but to her surprise he rummaged through a small, blue duffle bag, extracting a matchbook. Once the fire had been lit, he took the fish from her, speared it with a stick, and rested it over the flames. After that, he’d left again, not coming back until after she’d already begun eating.
When she was nearly finished, it occurred to Sarah that he hadn’t eaten, and she wondered if they were supposed to share the fish. Looking to the werewolf, she held up what was left of the fish.
“Are you hungry?”
“I do not eat fish,” he replied .
She resisted the urge to ask him what he did eat, telling herself she probably didn’t want to know the answer. She went back to picking at the fish, this time stealing covert glances at him from the corners of her eyes. He was large, bigger than any man she’d ever seen. He leaned against the stone wall of the cavern, staring off towards the entrance with his arms crossed over his chest.
W hen her stomach was full, Sarah put what remained of the fish aside and set to warming her hands over the crackling fire. She stole another glance at him while trying to think of something to say.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” he asked.
“Like what?” She couldn’t gauge his tone, and was still having trouble making out his facial expression.
“You were glaring at me. You still are.”
She held her hands defensively. “No, you have it all wrong. I’m squinting. I lost my glasses in the accident and my eyesight is really bad.” Nervously, she added, “I’m sorry, I’ve just never seen a…a werewolf before.”
He tilted his head, regarding her. After a brief pause, he pushed off of the wall. Clearing the room in three long strides, the werewolf crouched down in front of her. Sarah kept her eyes on him, her jaw slackening as he came into focus.
The firelight highlighted the sharp contours of his face . It was a powerfully masculine appearance. A strong jaw, heavy brow, and slanted cheekbones. His nose looked as if it had been broken in the past, yet somehow fit perfectly with the ruggedness of his façade. Everything about the shape of his face seemed designed to draw its hapless victim up to his eyes—striking eyes of burnished gold that seized her gaze, making her unable to look away.
“Well?” he asked, his voice reverberating from somewhere deep inside his chest. “ Is it what you expected of a werewolf?”
“No.” Sarah breathed the word. Her heart was hammering again, but this time for an entirely different reason. She swallowed before saying, “I thought you’d be hairier.”
It must have been the right thing to say, because his lips curved
Similar Books
