Page 12 of Mated to the Amarok

The flames caught quickly under his skilled hands, crackling into a dance that threw golden light across the walls of the cave. Heat radiated outward—a tangible thing—and I stepped closer without realizing it.

Zunnik turned from his task and gave me a nod of approval as if to say ‘make yourself at home.’ His cave offered more shelter, and now he shared it with me.

I peeled off layers stiff with ice and hung them near the fire before sinking down beside it on a pile of furs that smelled faintly of pine and smoke. Warmth seeped, flames flickered—each pop, safety—for now.

The warmth from the fire licked at my skin, a stark contrast to the frigid embrace of the storm outside. But even as I inched closer to the flames, my body quivered uncontrollably. The cold settled deep into my marrow, a relentless chill that the heat couldn’t seem to chase away.

Zunnik watched me with a frown creasing his broad forehead. “Your shivering hasn’t stopped,” he observed, his voice a low rumble in the cavernous space.

I gave him a weak smile, trying to mask how my teeth chattered against each other. “It’s like the cold took up permanent residence in my bones.”

His ember-like eyes pierced through me as he nodded in contemplation. Then he rose and moved toward me with purpose. His tall figure loomed, casting a shadow, making me feel like prey.

But his gentle hands touched my shoulders. “Come,” he urged, leading me toward a mound of furs piled at the back of the cave. They looked soft and inviting. His next words made me pause.

“Lie with me under the furs,” he said. The invitation hung in the air between us, an offer that left me speechless.

My mind raced with the implications, but his next words cut through my hesitation. “I promise to behave,” Zunnik assured me, his tone earnest. “My intention is simply to warm you.”

His gaze held an undeniable honesty—a pure intent mirrored in his jaw and the tilt of his head. He wasn’t like anyone I ever met; his concern was genuine, untouched by any ulterior motive.

I nodded, because what else could I do? Shivers and stutters composed my body's symphony.

We slipped beneath the heavy furs together, and Zunnik's body immediately enveloped me in a cocoon of heat. It felt like sinking into a hot bath after days of ice—soothing and almost overwhelming.

Zunnik lay beside me, his back blocked from the cold that tried to creep in around us. He was close enough that I could feel every rise and fall of his chest with each breath he took.

"Rest," he whispered, his voice unexpectedly tender despite his rough exterior.

I curled up beside him, still wary but undeniably grateful for the heat he offered so freely. His arm tentatively found its way around my shoulders, drawing me closer against him.

I let out a sigh as warmth finally seeped into my limbs. My shivering slowly subsided, becoming a faint tremor - a reminder of the once unshakeable cold.

We lay there in silence—two beings from different worlds finding solace in each other’s presence. His heartbeat resounded steady and strong beneath my ear; it became my anchor in this storm-ravaged night.

“Thank you,” I whispered without looking up at him—words muffled by fur and feeling.

“There’s no need for thanks,” Zunnik replied softly. “This is what anyone would do.”

But we both knew the truth—not everyone would open their sanctuary or wrap their warmth around another so freely.

As sleep tugged at my consciousness—tempting me with dreams of sunny days and thawed streams—I realized that this moment with Zunnik was about more than just survival or escaping the cold.

It was about trust—about finding humanity where it’s least expected—and maybe even about discovering warmth that doesn’t just chase away the chill but kindles something deeper within.

8

Zunnik

The first light of dawn trickled into the cave, casting a pale glow on the walls. Claudia’s breaths, even and soft, brushed against my chest. The storm outside calmed into a silent world of white, a blanket of snow muting the usual sounds of the wilderness. I lay there, her head resting near my heart, a rhythm unfamiliar in its quickened pace.

Her warmth against me sparked a primal urge to protect, to claim, but I reined in the instincts that urged me to tighten my hold. Claudia was not a possession to claim. She shifted slightly, nestling closer in her sleep, and an inaudible sigh escaped her lips.

I dared not move for fear of waking her; she needed rest after the bone-chilling cold she endured. As the morning went on, hunger reminded me that my guest needed food for the day. Carefully, with movements honed by years of stealth, I extricated myself from our shared warmth.

Standing tall, I stretched my limbs, muscles flexing beneath my fur. The cold bit at my skin as I moved away from Claudia’s heat. I couldn't tear my eyes away from her calm expression, but I quickly returned to the task.

The cave held reserves of dried meats and foraged goods—enough to sustain me through harsh winters or unexpected circumstances. But today they would serve a different purpose. I gathered strips of dried elk, roots, and some berries preserved from summer’s bounty. The earthy scent of the food filled the cave as I set about preparing a meal that would appeal to Claudia’s human tastes while giving her a glimpse into Amarok cuisine.

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