Page 49 of Bitten, Marked, Obsessed

His weight collapses onto my back, both of us heaving. Reality seeps in with the cold air on my skin.

Callum grabs a massive blanket from the couch beside us and throws it over our naked body and my shame. He says nothing, just covers me and lays beside me.

My hands tremble—streaked with his blood, my sweat, the proof of what we just burned down.

He says nothing and I'm grateful. I don't know what to say, what to do. I cling the blanket closer to my chest as my eyes burn with tears. It's not regret, but it did scare me. I shouldn't have done that… not like this. But what scares me even more is how bad I wanted to and how much I still do.

20

CALLUM

Iwake to the sound of water.

Somewhere nearby, a river runs loud and fast—its rhythm cutting through the trees like a heartbeat I can’t slow down. The morning is cool, mist still hanging low, and I’m alone in the cabin.

Kendall’s not here.

The bed still smells like her—like smoke and wildflowers and something I can’t stop wanting. But the warmth’s faded. She’s been up for a while.

My chest’s a knot of everything I can’t say.

Last night shouldn’t have happened. Not like that. Not after what she went through.

But gods help me, when she touched me—when she let me touchher—I couldn’t stop. It wasn’t just instinct. It wasn’t just the bond. It was her.

Now she’s out there somewhere, probably wondering what the fuck she just did. Withmeof all people. A shifter. Someone she’s been told to fear.

I dress fast and follow her scent through the trees. She didn’t go far. Just far enough.

She’s sitting on a smooth rock near the water, knees pulled to her chest, hoodie drawn tight around her. Her hair’s down, falling across her shoulders in messy waves. There’s a tension in her shoulders, like she’s waiting to be scolded.

Or maybe she already is—by herself.

I stop just behind her, give her a breath of silence before speaking.

“You always this dramatic in the mornings?”

She snorts under her breath. “Only when I wake up in a stranger’s bed with my life on fire.”

I step closer. “Not a stranger.”

“That’s the part that makes it worse.”

I sink down beside her on the rock, careful not to crowd her. The air between us buzzes, charged and hesitant. The silence stretches out, but it’s not peaceful.

She speaks first.

“I told him.”

My head tilts. “Told who what?”

“Stefan,” she says. “I shifted in front of him. That’s what that trigger was last night.”

She doesn’t look at me, eyes locked on the river.

“It wasn’t on purpose,” she says. “It just… happened. I was angry and cornered and he kept pushing. Then I wasn’tmeanymore.”

“And?”

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