Page 37 of A Malicious Menagerie
The fucking nerve,I snarl internally, and I don’t bother telling him I’m going to the woods. I may not be able to stand the man, but at least we’ve worked out a schedule that keeps us from crossing paths more than once or twice a night.
Still, as I navigate the labyrinthine back hallways and emerge in the woods, the anxiety and tension I’ve been building for the past two days come flooding back. What will the wolf do now that I know?
When I arrive at the back of his enclosure, he’s waiting for me like always—as a wolf. He’s sitting rigidly, his yellow gaze intent and something like a grimace pulling at one corner of his muzzle. It seems that he’s been building some anxiety and tension of his own.
We regard each other silently for a hundred heartbeats, an unspoken battle of wills raging between us. Finally, I ask testily, “Are we back to this, then? You pretending that you’re just a wolf? That you haven’t been lying to me for weeks?”
He huffs a sigh before giving in, his bones and tendons snapping and realigning in a way that makes me wince with vicarious pain. Still, I force myself not to look away as his body resumes the shape of the man I met under such inauspicious circumstances two nights ago. Once again, I’m struck by just howbighe is, over a head taller than me and twice as broad through the shoulders. Unbidden, my gaze snags on the trail of dark hair arrowing from his formidable chest down the valley between his abs to that prominent V at his hips. And despite my best efforts, I can’t help but look at his dick. I mean, it’s right there, and it’s kind of hard to miss. The man is not lacking in that department.
“My eyes are up here,” he teases. My blush blooms so quickly I feel lightheaded, and my muscles lock with abject mortification.Busted.
And after weeks of getting to know each other but not being able to speak, the first words we share aren’t about our friendship, or the secret betweenus, or the unfortunate events of the other night. No, the poignant words that are going to start this new chapter of our relationship—whatever that chapter may bring—are ‘My eyes are up here.’
My panicked gaze flies up to his, and his amber eyes are alight with mirth as a smirk tugs at one corner of his lips. Then, my gaze is drawn away from his and to his neck when I notice the raw red skin and older scarring branching out from around his metal collar, and I gasp in horror. I raise my hand and start forward, intent on checking his burns, but I halt abruptly when I realize that I’d be touching a man, not an animal.
His full lips twitch behind his inky black beard. “Interesting how you were less scared to touch me as a wolf.”
His voice is reminiscent of a coffee grinder, low and deep and rasping as if he hasn’t had reason to use it in a long time. And if he’s been living as a wolf for God knows how long, maybe he hasn’t.
“I was more certain that you wouldn’t hurt me as a wolf,” I reply warily.
His eyes narrow. “You do realize how fucked up that is, right?”
I scowl at him and cross my arms defensively over my chest. “Is it, though? I don’t know you.”
He winces at that, and I feel a little flutter of regret before I ruthlessly snuff it out. “You know me,” he replies stiffly.
“I know the wolf,” I retort.
He growls, and honestly, the sound is so similar to one that he’d make in his other form that I don’t even flinch. “Iamthe wolf.”
“It was just easier when the worst thing you could do to me was kill me.”
His dark brows furrow. “What can I do to you as a man that I couldn’t do as a wolf?”
Disturbingly, the first thought that comes to mind isn’t the obvious one. No, my first thought is ‘break my heart.’
“I’d rather be alone in a forest with a wolf than a man,” I hedge, echoing a debate about bears I’ve seen on social media. It feels somehow both too accusing and too vulnerable to say the word ‘rape.’
Though, honestly, if he were to make a move on me like that… would I actually stop him?
Wanting to move on from the awkward topic, I add, “And it doesn’t help that I told you things I never would have admitted if I’d known you understood, but I don’t know anything about you.”
“What do you want to know?” he asks immediately, no hesitation, his eyes intent on mine.
“O-oh,” I stutter, taken aback. I didn’t come to school having done this particular homework assignment. “Well, umm… Maybe we could start with your name.”
Suddenly, he grins, revealing very human-looking teeth. But weren’t his fangs longer when I saw him last? “You never named me?” he asks. His tone is teasing but also… not. Despite his grin, his eyes are watchful.
“I… no.” I wrinkle my nose. “I didn’t think it was my place. I mean, I named my childhood cat, but she was… not like you.”
“There’s no one like me,” he agrees, his chest puffing up. I burst out laughing.
“You might be right about that,” I agree, unable to keep my gaze from drifting down to trace his abs despite the lingering embarrassment heating my cheeks.
“It’s Chase,” he says, and I glance up at him. He quirks a crooked smile, revealing what might be a dimple under all that scruff, and his eyes are bright.
“Chase what?”
