Page 42 of The Crimson Wolf
“Fuck, Red.”
I don’t let go of him. Even though my orgasm passed through me, I’m not satisfied. I’m ready to be devoured fully by this werewolf, but he pulls away from me, rising to his knees. He twists his body, his hands exploring his back.
Even though it’s dark, I can see the red gashes across his back. I look down at my hands, blood dripping down my fingers.
“What the fuck?” I rise to my knees, moving closer to examine him. It’s obvious from the blood on my handsthat I’m the one to cause these wounds, but as I gaze upon the large gashes, it’s clear that they couldn’t be made by a human. No—an animal did this.
28
One Fourth
“Red, stop; it’s fine,” Cameron says, looking over his shoulder and sporting a strained smile.
“It’s not fine,” I say, my voice high-pitched and my head buzzing with anxiety. “What the hell happened? How could I have done this to you?” I work on blotting the ten gashes down his back—made by ten nails—no, claws. He’s covered with hair now—his transformation becoming more apparent. I’m so worried about the damage I've apparently done to him that I don’t have time to examine how quickly I turned from hating this man to letting him fuck me with his fingers on the forest floor to fussing over his wounds as if it pains me as much as it does him. That’sthe funny thing about adrenaline. It doesn’t give you the time to evaluate if your behavior is toxic or psychotic. I’m just running on pure emotions, which seem to shift second to second.
“I have a theory,” he says, swiveling around on the stool and grabbing me from the back of my legs. He stares up at me and pulls me closer, his amber eyes full of hunger as he runs his hands down my thighs. The gesture is so intimate—too bizarre to come from the man who kidnapped me. He obviously isn’t frightened of me. Could I nearly rip this man to shreds, and he’d still be willing to be near me? I will myself not to swoon at the thought.
My emotions change again, as if they’re a nineties viewmaster and I just flipped to the next scene. I step away and watch as hurt seeps into his eyes, and his expression folds in on itself. I can’t feel guilty. Yes, seconds ago, I would have contorted into a pretzel and allowed him to fuck me however he saw fit, but this isn’t normal. I’m still his prisoner, and we both need a reminder of that.
“What’s your theory?” I finally ask.
Cameron studies me for a moment longer before clearing his throat to speak. “It’s not that difficult to put together, Red.” He walks toward the kitchen, opens a cabinet, and grabs a crystal bottle of brown liquid.
I follow after him. “Enlighten me.”
He looks up from his cup before taking a sip. It’s still dark out but nearly morning. I don’t blame him for drinking, though. I have half a mind to ask him for my own glass, but I don’t want to derail the conversation. “Need I remind you that you’re part werewolf?” he says.
“I’m a fourth werewolf.”
“A fourth is a part.”
“Okay. So what? I’m not a werewolf. I think I would know.”
“So you’ve never shown any signs of powers, anything unusual?” He steps closer to me, his eyes trailing down my body as if I’m going to sprout a tail or something.
I step away from him. “No.” Even as I say it, my mind whirls with strange instances. I replay the sensation of the ground shaking when I orgasmed. Could that be from me? Could the earthquake from graduation be from me as well? I decide not to mention it. It seems too outlandish, even for everything currently evolving. I’ve felt…different ever since I showed up in this town. I try to pin them in place and figure out when it happened. “I mean, sometimes I feel weird.”
“When?”
“It’s been a recent thing.”
He places his drink on the counter and removes any possible space between us. I stare up at him, my heart hammering in my chest. The electricity I feel wheneverI’m near Cameron surges through me. My mind fogs with the scent of him. It’s like all my pores are tiny nostrils. My eyes droop. “When I’m near or touching you, I feel different—itchy but more intense. Like my nerves are reaching out to tether to something.” I barely realize the words that pass through my lips.
He leans down, his mouth hovering over the shell of my ear. “I’m a werewolf. My powers are bringing out yours. The Blood Moon is tonight, heightening the effects. You’re a werewolf, Red.”
The words snap me out of my trance. I push him back, shaking my head. “No! You’re doing this to me. This is some sort of werewolf magic to lure me in. Jack told me all werewolves are evil. I can’t be a werewolf.”
His eyes blink wide as if my words stabbed him in the gut. “God, Red, your father was a werewolf. How can you say all werewolves are evil?” In a flash, his expression changes from hurt to anger, as if he’s spent years mastering the art of making sure people don’t see him in a vulnerable state, and I was able to crack into his mask for a moment before he brought his iron walls back down.
I turn away from him, rubbing my temples. “I don’t know, okay. I barely knew my father. Maybe he was evil.”
Cameron grabs my arm and twirls me to face him. “Why is it so difficult for you to see what’s right in front of your face? I’m a werewolf, and I’m not evil. If I was, would I betrying to clear your name, letting you sleep in my bed, saving you from snakes, making you scream with pleasure?” He runs a finger down my cheek.
My skin peppers with goosebumps, and I turn away from him. He grabs my chin and brings my attention back to him. “You’re a werewolf, Red. Maybe not as much as me. Maybe you don’t show physical signs, but you have werewolf abilities. Don’t think I didn’t notice the ground shake when you came. You did that.”
I’m shocked silent. Could I be a werewolf with powers to affect nature?
His lips lower to mine, and the electricity—no the power bubbles to life in my veins. I feel as if I could move mountains. My legs ache to jump. Strength surges at my fingertips.
