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I push up and off of the couch. “I’ll leave it to you two to sort it out, and maybe you can get me a hot cup of tea while you’re at it.”
While my first option is to head outside to go to the toilet, I have second thoughts and instead head to the rat-stinky one in the house. I sure as hell don’t want to be surprised out there while peeing, and more than likely, Dušan or Lucien would insist on joining me and probably watching.
The bathroom reeks so bad, stinging my nostrils with the pungent smell like spoiled eggs, and it really couldn’t be from one rat, but for all I know there are half a dozen more in the walls. A small candle I found earlier in a kitchen drawer now sits on the dirty sink, the flame flickering and throwing shadows over the walls.
I stare down at the filthy toilet bowl. I doubt the flush is working, but I only need to pee, so that will be fine. Quickly, I get it over and done with, the whole time my gaze hovering on the rat. What killed him anyway? Starvation? There are no flies buzzing around, so it probably died a while ago.
In no time, I’m finished and out of the room, spotting Dušan and Lucien laughing as they head out the front door. “Fuck, I need to piss so much,” Lucien mutters.
I roll my eyes and head into the main bedroom to grab another blanket, as it’s getting cold, even with the fire.
Back in the main room, I stroll toward the couch when movement in a shadow by the door startles me, and I jump in my skin. A small squeal escapes my lips, too. “I swear to god, Lucien, if that’s you, I’m going to skin you alive for scaring me.”
My blade is in my boots near the fireplace, and I frantically scan for a weapon within reach when the figure steps forward into the fire’s light.
Bardhyl.
He’s naked.
Has a feral expression on his face.
His green eyes are locked on me.
On the bright side, he’s no longer in his wolf form, though he still seems dangerous, even if alluring. My feelings are at war with my desire for him.
“Oh! When did you get back?” I glance over to the door, figuring I can make a run for it—or, better yet, scream—if Bardhyl makes a move.
He tilts his head to the side just like an animal might do, and this time, the fright crawls up my spine.
“We left you food.”
He looks over to the cauldron. Okay, so he understands my words.
“Bardhyl, you’re scaring me,” I admit.
He comes to me with such speed, I don’t have time to react. He drives into me, my back hitting the wall, his mouth on mine, stealing my scream.
Still on edge, I’m trying to make sense of which Bardhyl this is… the crazed wolf or the dominant one.
But as much as my own arousal flares in response and turns to liquid between my thighs, I don’t want to become his prey. What if he can’t tell the difference between sex and a meal?
I break from his kiss. “Bardhyl, stop.” I stomp my heel on his foot.
He hisses, giving me enough space to slip out from him and rush down the corridor. Fuck, of course I’d go the wrong way. I dart into the bedroom.
Bardhyl charges in after me, clenching his jaw. The candle perched up on the cupboard illuminates him and reveals the hunger in his eyes for me.
My body betrays me, craving him and thrumming, which is so wrong. He’s an animal, I see it in his eyes, and I’m struggling between going to him to calm him down and jumping out the window.
“Meira,” he growls, so dark and heavy, and my body responds with a fluttering in my stomach. Really, wolf, you want him while he’s in crazy Berserker mode?
“Bardhyl… this isn’t you. Let’s talk about it a bit first.”
He shakes his head and is on me in seconds, pinning me to the wall. His mouth is on my neck, and he licks me from my collarbone to my earlobe.
I shouldn’t find this arousing when I’m shaking with fear, but the more he licks me, the hotter I burn. Callused fingers graze under my top, and he rips it up and over my head, my arms forced up as he strips me with ease.
Fuck. I’m breathing heavily, my clit throbbing as he shoves my pants down my legs. By the time he’s bent over and has pulled them off my ankles, I’ve collected myself and knee him in the chin. He stumbles, groaning as I leap past him, sprinting toward the door.
