Hunger

Chapter one

The night dragged on, each minute feeling like an hour. Clary had fallen asleep long ago, her snoring sounding like a broken lawnmower. In his frustration, the wolf tossed and twisted and yanked the blankets off of him. The prickling in the back of his mind was getting unbearable.

He finally got out of bed, realizing that lying in was not helping him.

That night, the hallways were strangely deserted, with none of the usual wolves roaming them. He let his legs lead the way, taking the most well-worn paths.

Under the glaring white of the snow, a tiny flicker of movement grabbed his attention. A black coat shimmered in the wind under a large fir tree, gleaming wet. The wolf inspected more closely, feeling the buzzing pain burrowing in his mind intensify.

The aroma of ash permeated the air as brown skin was barely visible beneath the frost. His eyes widened in surprise.

"What the hell are you doing out here, leach?" He griped.

His curly hair was encrusted with snowflakes, and his teeth were stabbed deep into his lip. His entire figure looked to emulate a marble statue, motionless yet somehow eerie.

"just freezing to death. The usual. " The vampire's normally lively voice had become dull and gravelly in his throat. The wolf's heart ached and in that moment he wanted to rip it out.

Before he knew it, the man was in his arms, tucking him beneath his jacket as he walked, too tired, too confused to question his body's actions. His sleep-deprived brain was blind to its most rational side, which he could always blame on instincts being stronger beneath the moon.

"You're a moron. I'm getting you inside," he growled, but it didn't come out as harsh as he intended.

"You've changed your tune," Danny mumbled into his chest.

He ignored that, continuing to walk towards the house.

He tested the water under his hand. Not too warm to shock, but warm enough to heat the overgrown bat.

The bath was a spare, regularly used by the hustle and bustle of the pack, which led to regular hair blockages in the drain. It connected to the rest of the spare room, one of the many littered around the mansion and the lingering scent of pack helped calm his mounting anxiousness. It was clean and would do.

The vampire was placed on the bed in said room, wrapped up tight in the wolf's jacket. He would have to have the thing washed later to help remove the ash scent that no doubt now clung to it. He turned to the creature, leaning a little against the door frame.

"Can you get in by yourself?" He huffed out

In return, the vampire held up inky black fingers, saying," no can do love, sorry."

"By the fucking moon."

"I'll be fine. Got no blood, remember? It fixes itself. I just can't move them for a while."

Inky black liquid dripped out of his mouth as he grinned.

The wolf felt through his exhaustion the anxiety howl.

He made quick work of the golden buttons that held the vampire's clothes together, attempting to keep it as impersonal as possible. Tattoos littered his dark skin, an eclectic mix with no discernible theme, and the light from the nearby candles caused his skin to shine almost reflectively.

He purposely ignored Danny's sighs of pleasure as the heat reached his stone-cold dead flesh and guided him gently into the bath. The vampire looked at him with half-lidded eyes under his eyelashes.

"Not gonna cook me, are ya pup?" He giggled at himself, reminding Oscar painfully of earlier that day. The giggles this time seemed to be more delirious than that of booze. "Good old vamp stew. Ive heard it's a delicacy amongst wolves."