Shadow Bite || WATTYS 2017

Chapter Thirty-Three

I feel a hard and warm presence encasing me in a protective embrace from behind, and when I try to shift, that hold just tightens. I look around, eyes groggy from sleep, and relief fills me at the sight of the inside of our tent. I can barely see the tiny snowflakes settling on to the surface of it, but the faint arrays of light are more than enough illumination.

I tilt my head backwards to stare right into Asher's sleeping face. He looks so peaceful, so unguarded in his sleep, that it seems like I'm looking at Asher's inner child, the one he's so strongly fought to keep under locks after his mother's death. I let out a sigh and snuggle deeper into his arms, feeling him shift against me. Suddenly, I feel a hardness poking my lower back that hadn't been there before. Apparently Asher gets hot very quickly, so sleeping with a shirt on had been out of the question. I feel every movement of his naked rock-hard muscles on his chest against my back, and umm... Another little guy down there.

To divert my attention and ignore the bundles of heat knotting my female hormones in a desperate cry, I scan the inside of the tent.

My heart warms at the sight of a picnic basket, resting among heaps and heaps of pillows and blankets. I smile. He really has thought of everything... He said he loves me. I breathe heavily, and let out a sigh. 

My stomach suddenly growls terribly, and I lift my hand to smack the front of Asher's head pressed against my neck as his chest rumbles with laughter.

"It's not funny.

-You're that hungry?

-A girl needs her food okay?

-Obviously..." He mutters, earning another slap from me. More silence settles between us, but it's the comfortably tired kind.

"This is nice..." He declares huskily, and I try to ignore the undertones of his deep voice, nodding. I let out a sigh and sit up, letting the blankets fall away. I'm only wearing a tee shirt and joggers, and the cool morning air from outside hits me.

"Well, I'm hungry. So feed me, or be prepared to suffer."

-Mood killer." He mutters under his breath, closing his eyes again and nestling into the pillow. I raise an eyebrow dubiously and punch his arm.

"Yo!"

-Ow?" He exclaims, rubbing the sore spot. "What the fuck was that for?"

-Not feeding me.

-I've got other ways to feed you."

Another slap.

"Stop being sexual for a minute and listen."

-I know you're-

-Asher." I cut off abruptly, tone and eyes equally serious with a slight tone of worry. "Seriously, listen." He immediately catches onto it and sits upright, displaying his rock-hard toned chest and abs. I look away quickly, forcing myself to focus. 

Focus. 

But he's just so damn lickable...

Focus Cami!

The crack of a branch outside brings me to full alert and Asher closes his eyes, raising his head slightly. When he opens them, gold has replaced the azure. 

Not a friend then...

I quickly rummage through the basket until I find a simple knife, running the silverware around in my hand. Now why would a pack of werewolves keep silverware? I don't know, but in this case, it might prove especially useful. 

I grip it tightly and slowly stand up, nodding to Asher as he unzips the tent's entrance. Cold wind flaps into the tent and I shiver, noticing that he hasn't even flinched. I would love some werewolf body heat right now.