Page 1 of It's Kind of a Bunny Story
“Charlee? Are you here?” Fletcher’s words were followed by a huffed laugh through the tunnel as he made his way toward me. “Of course you are. I can smell you.”
“Are you saying I stink?” I tried to hiss, only to cringe at my voice’s unfamiliar breathiness.
This dang heat made me sound as though I was moments away from singing the happy birthday song for a president. Maybe this was a good time to consider a career with a phone sex company. I’d make a killing with my new voice—as long as I kept from bursting out laughing at the ridiculous things the desperate men moaned into the phone.
A sharp cramp attempted to contort my insides into a pretzel, reminding me that I wouldn’t likely need a job since I would be taking an early retirement from life within a few days. You didn’thave to worry about mortgage payments and grocery bills when you were tucked away in a quiet cemetery.
My death was entirely preventable—if I’d bowed to the will of my burrow. But I’d rather die on my own terms than have my body used as a personal toy by the arrogant cottonhole males that ran my burrow.
The only thing more unfair than being passed around like a trading card without a say in who would share my bed, was that my inner rabbit would bond to whatever random males bred me during my first heat. Why should I have had to pine after and long for males who’d probably won the right to my virgin heat in a drunken poker game? Males who’d take part in breeding every other female in the burrow.
A soft glow came from the dark tunnel that led out of the cave, and moments later, Fletcher appeared, a glowing orb in one hand and a pile of blankets and pillows in his arms. “Cillian, the alpha of the pack, gave me this light. Apparently, they float in pools to give ambience to parties,” Fletcher explained as I stared at the light he’d sat on a rock ledge near me.
“Huh. Technology is something else,” I commented as I admired the amber light it cast on the stone walls. The cave was about as far from glamping as you could get, but I appreciated the cozy lighting.
Fletcher kneeled beside me, pulling me against his chest. “And for the record, you never stink—except for that one time you fell in the compost heap.”
Burying his nose in my hair, he took a deep breath. He did his best to hide it, but I caught the way his breath hitched, and his body trembled. Thanks to my heat, I was the living, breathing embodiment of a sex pheromone, and it was a testament to his willpower that he didn’t start humping me on the spot. My skin flushed, and I couldn’t help but wish he’d show a little less restraint.
Maybe if I kissed the hollow of his neck…
I stopped myself just before my lips pressed against his skin.
He’d taken care of me, helped me escape my awful burrow, but he’d never so much as kissed me. I assumed since we’d been best friends since childhood, that he didn’t see me as a partner. If I initiated something intimate with him now, he’d be unable to resist. It was basic biology. My shifter nature was doing its best to announce to the world I was ready to breed, and his shifter nature would push him to respond. I couldn’t take advantage of him in a moment of weakness.
Fletcher reluctantly released me and got to work unrolling a mattress pad and covering it with blankets. Once he’d finished, he patted the multi-coloured quilt top. “Come on. Get comfy and I’ll tell you what’s going on with the pack.”
Moving onto the pile, I was surprised at how soft the cushioned makeshift bed felt against my aching back. Rolling onto my side, I curled into a ball, all the while working to keep a smile on my face. There was no reason to worry Fletcher with how badly I was handling the contraction-like pains that were gaining strength.
I should tell him to go before I give in and beg him to help relieve my escalating heat.Tears pricked my eyes, hating the idea of being alone. No, that wasn’t the real reason. The truth was, I didn’t want him to leave me.
Sitting down beside me, Fletcher caught my hand, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on my back. “Monroe wanted to come with me, but as we got close to the cave entrance, we picked up your scent and realized how quickly it had progressed. She didn’t want to risk stressing you more by contaminating your space with the smell of another female rabbit.”
It was thoughtful, and logically, I appreciated her kindness, but I couldn’t ignore the ripple of unease that Fletcher had been near another woman. I knew she had her own fluffle, but thatdidn’t stop me from feeling territorial over the man my inner animal believed was ours.
“The pack has agreed to protect you and allow you to stay here as long as you want. Monroe’s mate has two male wolves who are on their way here. They will guard you around the clock.” He paused, his mouth opening and closing as though he were struggling with what he planned to say next. “They are, uh… willing to take care of any other needs you have.”
He didn’t need to spell it out. We both knew exactly what he meant. I probably should’ve felt shame at the way my core clenched and my body heated at the thought of mating with two complete strangers. For all I knew, they might have been paid for their services.
“She wanted me to tell you they are good men. Gentle wolves with big hearts. As soon as the alpha told them what was happening, they agreed to help.”
My brow creased. “That doesn’t make sense, Fletcher. Why would they agree to what’s basically an arranged marriage to a rabbit shifter they’ve never met? There has to be something wrong with them, right?”
Then again, beggars can’t be choosers. If I wanted to survive this heat without crawling back to my burrow, and they weren’t cruel, did it matter what was wrong with them? If they were messy, I was willing to clean. Maybe they snored? I could wear earplugs. And if they chewed too loudly or with their mouths open, I’d learn to deal with it… hopefully.
“All I know is they were unable to find their mates, and they eventually stopped looking. I know you haven’t met Monroe, so you don’t have any reason to believe her, but I think you can trust her.” Fletcher’s voice had taken on a croon that was meant to be comforting, but was making my insides feel even more wobbly.
His thumb was still rubbing the back of my hand, and I scooted my hand and his up the blanket until it was mere inches from my face. Giving in to temptation, I rubbed my cheek against his skin. The sharp intake of Fletcher’s breath delighted my inner hoe—I mean,rabbit.
I’m a good girl. I’m a good girl. I’m a good girl.I chanted the sentence in my mind, trying to remind myself how important that part of my character had been to me. Not that it helped.
It would be easy to blame my heat for the change, but deep down, I was tired. I longed to let go of the uncertainty that had weighed me down for years and savor life as I took what I desired.
Put simply, I didn’t want to be good anymore.
My skin beaded with sweat as lava burned through my stomach and rolled through my veins. Time was running out.
“Fletcher?”
