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“Everything’s been worn these days,” Elijah replies with a chuckle. “But don’t worry—they’ve been washed.”
I open the curtain to find him sitting on the weathered couch, his knees on his elbows as he stares into the fire. My eyes adjusted to the darkness while I was behind the curtain, and I can see the room a little better now. A boarded up window lets in cracks of rose-tinted moonlight that spill over the floor, while a four-post bed occupies the corner. Piles of clothes lie along the walls in a few places, along with a stack of books and magazines.
I move to investigate, but then a pair of arms wraps around my waist, lifting me up once again until I’m in Elijah’s embrace. He breathes into my hair as he sets me down on the bed, laying me back and leaning over me. I think he’s going to kiss me—but instead, he inhales deeply near my wound, trailing his fingers over it.
I don’t know what he’s doing, and it’s a little weird. Scenting me, I guess? Isn’t that something a werewolf would do?
“I’m glad you’re not dead, Sunshine,” he murmurs, meeting my eyes.
“And I’m glad you’re glad,” I say. “But you can’t just keep tossing me around like a ragdoll.”
He snickers. “I think there area lotof things you would let me do that you never even dreamed of.”
“I think you’re underestimating the things I dream about.”
His fingers curl in the comforter under my head—I think he might kiss me, or touch me, and my whole body feels like it’s going to burst into flame at the thought of it—but he pushes himself away from me and crosses his arms.
“Speaking of dreams, you should get some rest,” he says.
I frown. “I thought you weren’t supposed to sleep with a concussion.”
“Common misconception,” he says. “And you’re healing up fast; don’t think you’re concussed. Aren’t you tired?”
I guess I am. But…
“Is it wrong that I think this might all just be the head wound and that I’ll forget this every happened tomorrow? Or maybe that it’s all been a hallucination?”
“Are you saying you’ve fantasized about me so much that you would hallucinate fondling me?”
“Stop,” I blush. “I just—Elijah?”
He raises his brows.
“Will you sleep in the bed with me?” I ask quietly.
He curves his lips in a half-smile. “I’ve still gotta get cleaned up, Sunshine, but after…yeah, I’ll cuddle up with you. Now get some rest, okay?”
“Right,” I say. “Okay.”
He turns around and heads toward the curtain himself, starting the process of warming up more water. And I can see that he is, in fact, dirty, silt sparkling on his skin in the firelight.
I don’t think I really care.
Because all I want to do is get him naked again.
And I can’t understand how I went from hating this man to wanting him so fiercely.
CHAPTER TEN
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ELIJAH
It’s becoming very clear that Charlotte smells so damn good because she’s my mate.
Before this weekend, I didn’t believe they were real. Mates were as fantastical as unicorns, or werewolves…but Iama werewolf, in a sense, so I guess I should have known life was going to turn out stranger than fiction. What shocks me even more is that she isn’t Lycan; sheshouldn’t, in theory, be the partner I’m destined for.
But she is.
