Page 200 of Shifting Hearts 1
“You’re very sweet, aren’t you?” He licked those delectable arched lips with a long red tongue as I banged against his chest in the greatest show of futility I suspected the forest had ever seen.
Okay, so maybe my confidence was overrated.
Snarling in his face, I barged a shoulder forward beneath his armpit, and slammed my opposite elbow upward into his solar plexus. Or at least, where I expected his solar plexus to be. If he were a normal person I figured that would be the area that would give me an advantage. Which, of course, wasn’t possible in this…
“Stupid, fucking, forest,” I panted, still shoulder barging and head butting the muscular wall that looked down at me like I was an adorable kitten doing a wonderful job of being a-fucking-dorable.
I spent years making sure I never crossed paths with the forest’s scare inhabitants. Yet here I was, battling two of them. Well, fighting one while the other watched. Wolf dude and tree guy.
Not weird at all.
I gave one last mighty heave, because if ever there was a time to be mighty, this was it, and slammed both fists at the wolfman’s chest. My creepy fucking stalker and general hot guy—okay, so they were both godlike but now wasnotthe time—fell promptly on his ass. He stared up at me in a state of fluctuating bemusement and disgust with himself while the tree behind me laughed. I smirked while the wolf flailed in the dirt.
“Fuck,” furboy muttered.
A girl can’t always pick her allies, alright?
“I’m not the one on my butt in the dirt,” I murmured, and flicked him the bird for good measure.
“You have a feral little mouth. Has anyone ever tell you that, princess?” The man, all clothed in black—silk, or were those really satin pants?–-rose, towering over me.
Black hair shot with fine lines of crinkled gray fell over his face, highlighting sharp cheekbones. A wide wedge of silver chest hairs looked soft, with their own crooked markings. Flat planes lay beneath bare muscle fighting for prime real estate with patterned fur that matched the markings on his face. Every inch of him looked carved. What wasn’t wolfish was inked with oversized patterns in gray swirls.
I instantly wanted to touch each and find out if that chest hair was as soft as it appeared. Was it wrong to want to pet your stalker wolf? From what he said, he enjoyed my show last night, while I’d thought I was being subtle.
A second glance confirmed that his slinky black top did in fact match the pants, and they were most definitely in pj land. A lounge suit, at best. Not that satin or silk or whatever it was didn't look sexy as hell on him. More that they resembled pajamas rather than rockstar level tight. They still outlined his, uh, package and that was clearly visible. More than visible, staining the thin material as he stalked toward me.
“What are you?” I tried for time, backing up a step, then two. Another.
Shit.
A quick glance confirmed the trees were still locked trunk to trunk at my back like a personal prison designed just for me. The thought sent a shiver rioting over my flesh, and it wasn’t all the fear based sort. The man before me looked at me like he wanted to eat me for dinner. Or maybe just rip me apart, or rip my clothes off. Desire flickered across his face, and I decided I wasn't the one I'd callferaltoday.
He looked wild, dangerous. Every aspect of him, from the gray swirls inked into his skin, or roiling beneath it to the sharptips of his nails—hell, are those claws?—called to me. I ached for his touch on my bare flesh, despite that I’d just pulled away from his imprisoning embrace.
I shook my head, trying to bring myself back to the present.And if he just wants to chew on the bones beneath your skin? This is how you become a statistic that never emerges from the forest. Something it devours, and not in the way you mean.If I didn’t concentrate, I’d end up scattered pieces of flesh on the forest floor while a tree god laughed at my demise and curled his roots around my remains.
This is not how I die.
I glared at the man, retreating one small step as he stalked forward in a new sort of dance. “What’s your name?”
“Wolf.”
His response stopped me short. “As in your name is Wolf, or… You are a wolf?” I reached for one of his clawed hands then drew mine back in horror. “I mean—” Breath sat unfiltered in my lungs while I asphyxiated on stale air.
He watched me choke with that same sense of amusement from before.Death is not unknown to him.
I am so fucked.
My gaze flitted to the direction he came from and far too late it hit me that I should have taken those fourteen breaths I wasted mouthing off and run until my feet bled, racing for the forest’s edge.
But how did one escape a forest when the god within it set the paths?
I closed my eyes, knowing instinctively that the only reason I’d been able to free the children was because of the forest’s whim. And now, it led me here.Why?Is it my day to die?
I returned my gaze to the wolf, and asked my silent question.
Are you my executioner?
