"Thank you?"
"That came out wrong,” he admits sheepishly, raking a hand through his curls as he fumbles, and I can see the gears turning in his head. "If having a creature here means they aren't with someone cruel like Iggy described, then I'd say you made the right choice."
Damn it, those big doggie eyes and that sweet sincerity are too much to handle. I shrug awkwardly, casting my gaze down to my scuffed boots. "Still, I should have told you this in the first place." But how do you confess to your supposed mate that you're more helpless than a newborn kitten?
Especially when it’s him. Wynn Blackwood, the wonder wolf himself. A man capable of living off the land with nothing buthis wits and instincts. A man who can keep us hidden while navigating this godforsaken forest.
All I do is try and fail to break all the shit.
Then there's his curly hair begging to be tugged, his love and knowledge of all things nature, and all the sweet smiles he directs at Iggy, at the trees, at everyone but me.
Ever since I played him the first night, he's been keeping me at arm’s length. If I hadn't been so desperate to escape, if I hadn't let the thought of being so close to ending all this and getting my life back tempt me, maybe I would have realized I shouldn’t make an enemy of him.
I'm not sure if I'll ever win him over again.
"We got off on the wrong foot," Wynn says, drawing me from my thoughts. "Neither of us trusted the other. I said we were stuck together, but that’s not how it should be."
"You cutting me loose?" This time, I can’t pretend otherwise. I feel a twinge of disappointment, just a little, enough to twist my gut.
"No, you dummy." Wynn's smile breaks through the tension. "We should be working together. Willingly this time. Maybe things will go smoother if we stop getting in our own way."
"I'm willing to give it a shot," I say casually. Inside, however, I'm stupidly grateful to hear those words.
"Me too."
A real partnership. Partners in crime. That's the most I can ask for. It's even nice, staying out here for a minute and enjoying the quiet of the forest together.
We’ll work together willingly this time. Get through this. Then go our separate ways. That was my original plan and it’s still a good one dammit, even if it’s becoming harder to remember why.
But hoping for anything else would be foolish. I'm the most inadequate potential mate. How could I ever deserve someone like him?
Dammit. I've been spending too much time stuck inside a cramped cabin, bored out of my skull. Cabin fever. That's what these crazy thoughts must be.
14.Getting Cozy
Wynn
Hunting the human way feels less satisfying, but the arrow strikes true and causes less disturbance than a wolf tracking prey through the forest. Supplementing our food supply with game found in the woods is essential.
Marlow snatches the dead pheasant from my hands the second I return. “Alright, teach me how to turn this into food.” Demons aren't squeamish, apparently.
I walk him through it—the plucking, the gutting, the messy parts—and soon we're ready to cook.
"You're right," he says. "Hiding evidence of a fire isn't hard at all."
A purple square of light hovers above the small campfire. Smoke drifts up and vanishes the instant it touches that eerie glow. The demon opened a passageway to somewhere else, and now we can roast our dinner without worrying about who might spot the smoke.
After cooking the bird, hiding evidence of the fire, and heading back to the cabin, Marlow, Iggy, and I crowd around the coffee table, savoring the roasted meat we made together. A flashlight sits in the center of the coffee table, casting a pool of light over our meal.
"Good," Marlow says, tearing off a huge chunk of the savory meat with his teeth.
"Yeah." The crispy skin crunches between my teeth, and the smoky flavor makes my eyes want to roll back in carnivorous bliss.
We demolish the food in silence, too busy eating to bother with conversation.
Marlow's been on his best behavior since we called a truce. Everything feels oddly domestic and peaceful when just days ago we were ready to tear each other apart.
Now we're like some weird little family unit. Marlow, me, and Iggy make three. I could get used to this.
