Page 6 of The Witch's Werewolf
And why am I not screaming?
And then I get the strange feeling that even if I weren’t pinned down, I wouldn’t run away.
I don’t want to run away.
Wait. Why don’t I want to run away?
My mind goes back to the protection spell I did before my date. And then the incantation I tried at the last second when Toby wouldn’t back off. I must have screwed up the magicsomehow. I must have done something that backfired, making me a simpering fool instead.
I speak softly. “It’s okay,” I say. “I’m not going to fight you. I know you won’t hurt me.”
I say it even though my logical brain doesn’t believe it.
But I guess a part of me is hoping that the humanity I see in his eyes will give me a chance to escape.
Instead, the half wolf/half man leans down and sniffs my throat.
The touch of that wet nose against my skin sends wild sparks of inexplicable pleasure down to my middle.
And then, he licks me.
Not a little tiny kitten lick.
Not quite a dog lick either.
His tongue darts out, and he slowly swipes a wide, wet, flat tongue over the side of my neck. Right over the part where if he bit down, he’d sink his fangs right into my carotid artery. No, that’s not frightening at all.
The one long, slow lick warms me to my toes. It creates all sorts of sensations in me that I don’t understand.
Everything about this creature is lethally dangerous, and yet now I don’t feel scared at all.
His eyes. I know him. But how?
I can’t believe I’m focusing on why the monster’s eyes look so familiar when I could be in danger of being eaten alive.
It’s that human connection—and the fact that I adore dogs, obviously—that makes me say, “May I have my hands back, please?”
Understanding flashes in his eyes.
Slowly, the beast releases his grip on my wrists. I bring them to my chest, rubbing one and then the other.
He sniffs my arms, like he’s checking me for injuries.
“I’m okay,” I whisper, my mind screaming out a warning as my hands close the distance between us, rubbing the scruff of hair at his neck. It’s shockingly soft and as thick as a husky’s winter coat, and I lose my fingers in its black depths.
The monster is silently watching me as I do this.
My hands travel up to the back of the terrifying head and gently scratch behind the ears.
The werewolf lets out a low, satisfied sigh, and I don’t know if it’s the human side or the wolf side.
I don’t know why this creature did what he did to Toby, yet left me alone, but I’m not about to remind him that I could be his second course.
I should be halfway to Grandma’s house by now if I’d simply started running instead of watching that attack.
Then again, I might be a dumbass. I thought I had an adequate protection spell, but that didn’t do anything to protect me from Toby tonight.
I scramble up to sitting, resting my back against a tree.
