Creatures of the Dark

Okay, so there was ~absolutely ~a mistranslation. “I’m really sorry. I have no clue what you’re talking about. Please, get off of me,” she begged.

To her surprise, he did, sitting back on his haunches with a quizzical look on his face. “Do you have a pack?” he asked slowly, watching her features intently.

She sat up after him, scooting further away. “No. I promise. You went through my bag. I don’t have a single pack of anything,” she rushed out, pointing toward her bag, the contents still strewn across the floor.

“Wolf,” he said, just throwing it out in the open.

She stopped and looked around. “Like, are you calling me a tease or something? I’ll explain everything if you just give me a chance,” she begged.

Please no more sexual stuff. No kissing, or laying over me.

He let her. She gave him a very detailed recollection of how she’d ended up naked beside him this morning. Once she finished, he just nodded, letting the information digest before he spoke.

He guessed they both were having a hard time. He’d gotten in a bloody fight with a rival pack wolf, ending with his chest being torn open. She’d gotten absolutely fucking lost just wandering around the woods.

Mother Luna was funny like that. It was no coincidence that he’d ended up torn to bits and needed a night to recuperate and that his mate just happened to get lost and stumbled upon his cabin. If he hadn’t been badly hurt, he never would’ve been here to see her.

He was fine with letting her go home and trying to win her heart the old-fashioned way. As long as she didn’t see him shift into wolf form, he wouldn’t have to bring her back to the elders.

But the snow came down all night, and he couldn’t even open the door, and by the looks of the sky, they were in for another round.

“Sorin,” he finally said, having had enough time to mull it over.

She blinked emptily at him. Unsure of what he meant.

“My name is Sorin.”

Ooh. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to tell this strange man her real name. “Do you really want to know my name?” she asked slowly.

Sorin nodded eagerly.

“I will tell you, but only when you’ve put on clothes,” she replied snippily, folding her arms and turning away from his nudity.

He stood and looked himself over. “You do not like my naked body?” he asked, genuinely serious.

“I don’t like that you are naked,” she filled in.

He said nothing but disappeared down the hallway that she had gotten her clothes from. When he returned, he was clothed, and she couldn’t help but notice how well the clothes fit him.

“Name,” he demanded.

“Where are my clothes?” she urged back.

His straight brows dropped low in a scowl. “That wasn’t the agreement.

“I change my terms,” she huffed, still feeling naked in the thin fabric of the baggy shirt.

He shrugged and began unbuttoning his pants where he stood.

Frightened at the thought of seeing his cock once more, she raised her palms to ward him off. “Colette,” she rushed out. “It’s Colette.”

“You speak truth?” he asked with a narrowed gaze.

“Yes,” she insisted. “Why did you take my clothes?” she finally asked.

He closed the space between them and grabbed her wrist, leading her to the window beside the door.

“Look,” he ordered, gesturing to the snow outside. It was taller than the porch steps and at least a quarter of the way up the front door. “Had you the option to clothe yourself, you would’ve left immediately.”

Which was true.

“It’s still snowing lightly, and chances are it’ll increase later in the day.”

He was right. She would’ve left the moment she woke. But keeping her hostage was wrong.

“I don’t want to stay with you,” she grumbled.

“Do you know the way back to your home?” he asked, but it was clear in his tone that he already knew his answer.

Colette folded her arms over her breasts and pouted. “How long until I can leave? Rough estimate.”

“At least a few days if it doesn’t keep snowing. My bet is that it will. We’re in the blizzard season, peak blizzard,” he said in an ominous tone.

She’d just moved there a few months back and had yet to see the winter seasons pan out. “What do you mean blizzard season?” she asked nervously.

He sighed. “You just moved here,” he said. “This city averages nearly two hundred inches of snowfall each season.”

Colette blinked emptily in silence. “I’m going to die,” she finally groaned.

“Why would you die?”

She palmed a hand over her chest and tried to breathe deeply before the panic set in. Her chest grew tight, her breathing quickened, and her body began shaking violently.

“We’re stuck in this abandoned cabin with no food or water or heat. The firewood is almost out,” she exclaimed, wildly gesturing to the now-tiny stack of firewood.

“Abandoned cabin?” he asked, raising a brow in question.

She nodded, tears now streaming freely over her cheeks. “No one will be looking for me until at least Monday morning, and with a blizzard, maybe not for weeks!” she cried harder.

Sorin was comforted by the knowledge that she had no one close enough to her who would want to know where she was. No lover or boyfriend.

He closed the distance between them in a few short strides and raised her face to meet his. She was trembling like prey that’d been caught.

“Calm down. You’re perfectly fine here.” He tried reassuring her in a more human way. In his pack, mates were calmed from physical contact.

She continued to spiral and panic, like a fragile bunny incapable of feeling negative emotion.

With little thought, Sorin covered her mouth with his own again. The first time he’d kissed her, he hadn’t meant to.

But when he’d turned her to face him, he’d looked at her soft, pink lips and couldn’t control himself. What’s worse is that she tasted amazing. Like a crisp, autumn morning and a fall-flavored beverage.

She stopped panicking but certainly wasn’t welcoming to his touch. She just stood there frozen as he explored the warmth of her mouth. Was she as inexperienced as she appeared? Each time she acted as if no one had ever claimed her mouth before.

His body tightened at the thought of being the first to claim his mate. He hadn’t really ever put much thought into the idea of her.

The werewolf population was dwindling as fewer wolves were being born. The chances of conceiving with anyone other than your mate was slim.

But here she was, and she was beautiful. Smaller than he’d ever imagined, daintier than a she-wolf, with pale skin and raven hair.

Sorin moaned into her mouth. She shoved against him once more. He let her. She wouldn’t be able to him if he didn’t want her to.

“What is your problem, pal?”