Page 11 of Feuding with My Shifter Werewolf

I plant a hand on my hip, meeting his steely gaze head-on. "Look, Mr. Nalon, I'm not trying to cause any trouble. Eli sold me a tent with a million damn pieces, and the sun took the warmth. Who knew the mountain would be this cold? I mean, I watched the documentary and saw the ice, but I didn't put two and two together?—"

"Look, lady. Get to the point."

"Which one?" I snap my mouth closed, annoyed.

"There's more than one?" His brow arches, and I hear the universe sigh in horny matrimony. Why would god make a man so beautiful and so onry at the same time?

"Lady?"

"What?" I stare up into his eyes trying to reclaim my thoughts.

"Yourpoints."

"You really need to learn how to be hospitable."

"I'll add it to my To-Do List. Get to the point, city slicker."

I growl in frustration, and fire blazes in his eyes.

I take a step back, sensing the predatorial sweep of his gaze. I don't feel unsafe, but I don't feel like he's about to offer me fresh-baked cookies, either.

"I just need a place to camp for the night, and you can get back to yourknitting." I throw in an extra jab because I can't help it. "I'll be out of your hair by morning."

His jaw clenches, and I can practically feel the tension radiating off him. But there's something else in his eyes, a glimmer of intrigue beneath the hostility.

It's as if he's sizing me up, trying to figure out what makes me tick.

I hold my ground, refusing to be intimidated by his rugged presence. I may be out of my element here, but I'm not some helpless damsel.

I've faced tougher challenges than a grumpy, sexy mountain man.

But as we stand here, locked in this silent battle of wills, I can't help but feel a strange sense of connection. It's like we're both clinging to our identities, our roles in this unexpected encounter.

Him, the territorial recluse, and me, the determined outsider.

And yet, there's a part of me that's drawn to the fire in his eyes, the way he seems to come alive as we spar verbally. It's a far cry from the dull, predictable interactions I'm used to in my daily life.

I take a step forward, my chin lifted defiantly. "I'm not asking for your permission. This is public land, and I have every right to be here."

His lips twitch, as if he's fighting back a smirk. "You've got guts, city slicker. I'll give you that. But trust me, you don't want to be out here alone. These mountains aren't for the faint of heart."

I bristle at his condescending tone, even as a shiver courses through me—I don't know if it's the man or the temperature. I need to get away from him…pronto.

But like a woman glutton for punishment, I see it as yet another opportunity to explore the subtle hint of dark knowledge he's piqued about the secrets these mountains hold.

"I appreciate your concern, but I can take care of myself. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a fire to build."

I turn around and notice his pile of kindling. I can feel his eyes on me, boring into my back as I crouch down and gather some into my arms.

"I'll bring it back tomorrow. You have my word."

He stares at me for a long moment, his eyes searching mine as if trying to read my intentions. I meet his gaze unflinchingly, refusing to be cowed by his intensity.

I lift my chin in defiance, as I cradle his firewood against my chest. I've come too far to let fear run me off his mountain.

Fear is the enemy. Fear holds you back. And I'm done being held back.

Something shifts in his expression, a slight softening around the edges. With a heavy sigh, he steps back, opening the door a little wider.

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