Unclaimed

Chapter Twelve- Of The People

"You need to eat." Judas stands at the top of the stairs. "My parents went to sleep, it'll be just us."

I laid across my bed with my iPad in hand. Setting the touch pen down as I took a sip of bourbon. The storm wailing against the sturdy walls of the house, desperate to knock it out of its path. The glass shards singing above us.

"I'm not hungry."

"Bourbon will not suffice." He whispers heatedly. "If you don't come down here and eat something, I will be forced to make a dish of my own. It will turn out horrible and have the entire house smelling like a grave yard." His threat is benign and half hearted. I scoff as I scoot off the bed making my way towards him.

Pushing him away as I descend the stairs. My feet barely able to hold my weight and I feel myself falling forward. Just before my body gives away, I fall into sturdy arms. Judas holding me to his chest as my hands search for the railing.

"I'm fine."

"You're drunk and you didn't eat."

"I said I'm fine."

"If you stumble again, I will carry you around this house for the rest of the night." He says, his breath on my ear. I turn towards him, our eyes locked as I feel myself settling into his embrace.

That wouldn't sound too bad.

The image of my legs locked around his waist as he carried me from the fridge to the counter made me giggle. His pupils widening as he pulls me into him.

"Stop that." I suddenly frown as I push against his chest.

"Stop what? I didn't do anything." He smirks coyly as he moves his hand further up my back, his foot coming down a step below me as he shifts our bodies.

"Yes you are, you're making me feel-"

"What?" He pressed my back into the wooden wall of the stair case. My breath catching in my throat as my eyes zero in on his mouth. The view of his lips making my mouth water. A haze setting in as I feel my body pull to his. "What exactly am I making you feel?"

His voice dropping to a seductive whisper. His mouth just a hair from mine. The wolf in me awake. Staring at him in fascination, true, honest fascination. As if he were a miricle, an impossibility made possible.

I pull my gaze away from his, my eyes finding the thicken wooden door to his parents room. I take a breath sliding my way out of his arms. Ducking underneath his massive bicep and tip toeing down the stairs, to the kitchen. I try not to stumble as I move quietly around the kitchen. Setting a pot on the stove filled with heavily salted water to boil.

I get to work on a simple Alfredo pasta.

Getting to work on peeling and deveining shrimp, tossing the shells in the waste basket next to me as Judas steals my bourbon. Even sipping from the same glass.

"Are you still angry with me?" He asks lowly.

"Yes." I answer as I work the knife through the meat of the crustacean.

"When will you stop being angry with me?"

"That I do not know. But the rogue Lycan on the beach that I cannot find any information on is really digging into me." I say making a motion of stabbing myself in the gut. The knifes blade just an inch away from flesh. "I just can't seem to move past how he went unnoticed all this time, by everyone especially your people."

"Please move the knife." His form rigid, and his eyes glued to the steel tip of the knife.

I twirl the knife in hand and continue deveining the shrimp.