“It is cold, you literally just said it was cold and we’ve been by a fire that’s going to go out when we fall asleep.”
He drops down onto the cloak and tugs us both to our sides with his arms still latched around me. “I damn near brought you back from the dead, pet. You’re in a weakened state. I’m not taking any chances.”
“I haven’t bathed in days!”
Another laugh. “Neither have I. Thankfully we both just took a very relaxing dip,” he says jovially.
“Relaxing?” I snort. “It was free—“ I break off as I realize what it is I’m admitting.
He maneuvers around to tuck the cloak around my bare legs and feet before he wraps his arms back around me and tucks my head under his chin. I go rigidly still, heart beating a frenzied rhythm.
“Gods,” he complains. “This is like cuddling a log.”
Distressingly, he presses his face straight into my neck. “Relax,” he coaxes, breath tickling my ear. “Relax, relax, relax,” he breathes, digging his face further into my neck.
A giggle bred from pure panic erupts from me. “Stop!” I gasp, squirming in an attempt to cleave distance between us. He only moseys his body more snugly against me, bringing his knees forward to rest in the bends of mine.
“This is not helping me relax,” I say through gritted teeth.
He lets out a breathy laugh that sends shivers down the length of my spine. Mistaking it for being brought forth from the cold, he rubs a hand up and down my arm.
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t. I’m exciting compared to the drudgery of your everyday life. You said so yourself.”
“That’snotwhat I said.”
His chuckle vibrates against my hair and all of my awareness snags on all the places we are joined. His face in my hair, my back against his chest, legs curling into mine and his arms draped over my middle with a hand sprawled against the ground in front of me. Even though we were both rinsed clean in the spring like he mentioned the faint musk of days without a true bath lingers on him. His scent envelopes me with every inhale. It’s potent and yet…still somehow not offensive. Masculine, woodsy, comforting, and strangely tantalizing.
Absolutely ludicrous thoughts to have about anunwashed person,that can only be the effects of his magical allure on me. My breaths quicken. I can feel the sensation of his magic sweeping deep into my core.But he…
“You don’t have your magic right now…” I say impetuously.
He props his head up on an elbow to stare down at me. “We went over this…hours ago.”
“I just—never mind,” I say quickly, trying to maintain an outward equanimity while I internally spiral. He doesn’t have his magic, which means…it’snot his magic.It’s not his magic making me react like this.
Which means it can only beme.
“You act like I’m an ogre or something.”
No…he’s far from an ogre. That’s the problem. “Worse, you’re a witch,” I mutter.
“You know…I did extenda lotof effort in saving your life,” he says, still staring me down.
“You already said that. Are you implying I owe you or something?”
“What—no. I mean, a thank you would be nice. And I know you’re capable of that because I heard you thank Epona. I just thought that would account for some trust, no? But you’re still as skittish as ever.”
“It doesn’t make you any less of a wolf.”
“Awolf?”
“Yes, a wolf,” I snap. “With absolutely no sense of personal space.”
“What does that even mean?”
“Don’t know that one?”
