Page 31 of Protector

I try to hide it. I just don’t understand the one-eight he undertook between yesterday morning and today. If he senses it, though, he keeps his thoughts to himself. Instead, acting as though he really is a mate male who needs to protect his mate, he turns his attention to what we’re supposed do next.

Three. His certainty that we’ll be rescued his infection—for the next two days. He’s doing his best to keep my spirits up. Telling me stories about life in Winter Creek, about what the world was like before time stopped in the sanctuary town, even about the way Fallon met Lucas.

Spoiler alert: she was tied to a tree, left for the beast in the woods… who just so happened to be the feral form of the ferocious Alpha.

He even explained the significance behind Fallon showing up to the Coven House in a red cloak that one time. After everything she went through, Fallon kept her spirits up by referring to her initiation into the supe world as a twisted retelling of Little Red Riding Hood.

Oh, yeah. That’s Fallon alright.

But that was the first two days. The only sign that the witches’ magic might not last forever comes on the morning of day three when Tristan can finally shift back to his wolf. I wonder if that means he’ll want to go to his fur and sleep by himself that night, but if I really thought so, I wasn’t paying attention.

We fall asleep spooning every night, waking up in an embrace that neither one of us mention the next morning. Apart from the first night when he went down on me, we’ve kept our sleeping arrangement as chaste as possible.

I know what he’s doing. The longer we’re trapped in here, the more stir crazy I’m getting. At least three times a day, I throw my body at the blood ward, hoping that that time will be the time that it fails. Nope. All that happens is that I get banged up, and Tristan runs his hands over my body, making sure I’m okay. But that’s as far as he goes—and all because he’s convinced himself that he pushed me too far that first night.

He didn’t. Of course he didn’t. I very enthusiastically consented to everything that happened, but Tristan really thought we’d be out by the next morning.

Now it’s the afternoon on day four and I’m not sure I’m going to make it that much longer without something to eat.

I’ve used nearly all of my emergency stores of fat. Any ass I had is gonna be nonexistent at this rate, and I’ve gotten so used to hearing stomachs rumble, it’s basically background noise at this point.

We realized early on that we had nothing to eat. Luckily, there was a steady stream of water leaking down the back of the cave that keeps us from being too thirsty, but hungry? I past hungry on day two. By day four, I’m starving.

But am I starving enough that I’ll eat worms?

Because those are wriggling, nasty worms nestled in the palm of Tristan’s outstretched hand.

“No. Absolutely not. Uh-uh.”

When he said he was going to find me something to eat on day two, I appreciated the effort. He came back with some grubs and worms then, and I refused. I just… I couldn’t do it. When I said ‘no’, he tossed them back in the non-bathroom corner where he found them.

Same thing happened on day two.

But now…

“Come on, Jeannie. It’s protein.”

“It’s bugs,” I say flatly.

“It’s fat.”

“It’s worms.”

To my surprise, Tristan doesn’t lose his temper with me. He just moves his hand so it’s under my nose.

Yeah. That doesn’t help.

“Please, Jeannie. You have to eat something.”

I know. I know. But they’re worms and even as a wolf, I’ll eat prey animals raw, but I’ve never eaten worms.

“You want me to eat that? You first.”

Tristan doesn’t even hesitate. Choosing one of the largest, somewhat clean worms from the bunch, he lifts it to his mouth and slurps it up like a piece of spaghetti.

Ew, ew, ew. “Remind me not to kiss you on the mouth.”

His eyes flash. Even in the dank cave, I can always tell because the whitish sheen lights up his face like a phone screen. “Were you planning on doing so? Because I can go rinse out my mouth right now if you’ll kiss me.”

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