"Much," I leaned into him, allowing myself to enjoy the solid strength of him. "You run hot."
"Werewolf metabolism. Useful in cold climates."
"And for warming up chilly prophetic vessels by campfires."
His arm tightened slightly around me. "That too."
We stayed like that for a while, watching the last of the embers fade. The stars wheeled overhead, and somewhere in the distance, an owl called softly. It felt like we existed in a bubble of calm, a rare moment of peace in the chaos our lives had become.
"We should go in," Rook sighed, though he made no move to release me. "It's late."
"Probably," I was equally reluctant to break the moment.
When we did finally stand, he kept his arm around me as we walked back to the cabin. At the bottom of the stairs that led to our respective rooms, we paused, an unspoken question hanging in the air between us.
"Rook," I started, not entirely sure what I was going to say.
He silenced me with a kiss, sudden but gentle, his lips warm against mine. Unlike our first kiss, which had been fueled by frustration and confusion, this one held a deliberate tenderness that made my knees weak.
When he pulled back, his eyes had darkened to molten gold, the wolf close to the surface. "I've wanted to do that again since the first time."
"What stopped you?" I breathed, my hands having found their way to his chest.
"Fear." The admission clearly cost him. "Not of you. Of what I feel when I'm with you. It's overwhelming."
I understood then, with sudden clarity, what he was trying to say. For someone who had spent years alone, who had built walls to protect himself from rejection, the intensity of connection was as frightening as it was desirable.
"I'm not afraid," I rose on tiptoes to press another kiss to his lips. "Not of this. Not of you."
A growl rumbled through his chest, vibrating against my palms. His hands came to my waist, pulling me closer as he deepened the kiss. Heat flared between us.
His lips moved from my mouth to my jaw, then my neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. I gasped as he found a particularly sensitive spot, my fingers tangling in his dark hair to hold him there.
"Winter," my name was a rough prayer against my skin. "Tell me to stop."
"Why would I do that?" I was already breathless.
He pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, his expression a mixture of desire and restraint. "Because if we start this, I don't think I'll be able to stop."
The raw hunger in his voice sent a shiver of anticipation down my spine. "Good," I tugged him back to me. "I don't want you to stop."
That was all the permission he needed. In one fluid movement, he lifted me, my legs wrapping around his waist as he carried me up the stairs. His strength was effortless, his steps sure despite the distraction of our continued kisses.
We reached my room, the door somehow opening despite neither of us having a free hand. Rook kicked it closed behind us, then carried me to the bed, laying me down with surprising gentleness given the barely leashed power I could feel in his body.
He stood over me for a moment, his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths, his eyes devouring me. "Last chance," his voice strained. "The wolf is close."
I reached for him, pulling him down to me. "I want all of you, Rook. Wolf included."
A shudder ran through him at my words. Then his mouth was on mine again, hungrier now, demanding. His hands explored my body with increasing boldness, pushing under my top to find bare skin. I arched into his touch, my own hands busy pulling at his shirt, needing to feel more of him.
He obliged, breaking the kiss just long enough to yank his shirt over his head, revealing the muscled expanse of his chest and abdomen. Scars mapped his skin, telling stories of battles and hunts I might never know. I traced them with my fingers, learning the topography of his body by touch.
My own shirt followed, tossed carelessly aside as Rook's eyes darkened at the sight of me. The blue markings on my skin pulsed with my racing heart, casting an ethereal glow in the dim room.
"Beautiful," he traced one glowing line from my collarbone to the swell of my breast. "Every part of you."
His touch left trails of fire across my skin, awakening nerve endings I hadn't known existed. When his mouth replaced his fingers, hot and demanding against my breast, I cried out, arching off the bed.
