Page 18 of Feuding with My Shifter Werewolf

"I can understand that. Wanting to escape the noise, find your own space in the world."

He glances at me over his shoulder, something like surprise in his eyes. "What about you, city slicker? What brings you to my mountain?"

My mountain. The way he says it, with such casual possession, sends a shiver through me, not due to the temperature but good old-fashioned need.

"Research," I say, opting for the simplest answer. "I'm a wildlife biologist. I wanted to study the ecosystems here, the impact of human activity on the native species..."

My voice trails off as I remember my other, more personal reason for coming here. The restless ache in my soul, the longing for somethingmore.

Zakir plates up the food, setting it on the table with a clatter. Scrambled eggs, sizzling bacon, thick slices of toasted bread.

I sit across from him, inhaling the mouthwatering smells. "This looks amazing. Thank you."

He grunts in response, already digging in. I follow suit, the first bite nearly making me moan in pleasure. Hunger is the best seasoning.

As we eat, I sneak glances at him from beneath my lashes. The strong line of his jaw, the breadth of his shoulders. The way his hands dwarf the fork, making it look like a child's toy.

Get ahold of yourself, Kristen, I scold internally.You're here for research, not to ogle the sexy mountain man.

But I can't deny the attraction simmering under my skin. The way my body reacts to his proximity, to the rough timbre of his voice.

"The food here is quite hearty. One could survive on minimal rations out here and still feel full," I quip to fill the silence.

Zakir's lips curve in the hint of a smile. "You learn to make do with what the land provides. Waste not, want not."

I nod, my gaze drifting to the window. The storm shows no signs of letting up. We could be trapped here for days.

A chill of something—desire? fear? anticipation?—courses through me at the thought. Days spent in close quarters with this mysterious, magnetic man...

Suddenly, I remember Wolf. My heart clenches with worry. Is he out there, all alone in this tempest? I turn back to Zakir.

"The wildlife," I start hesitantly. "Do you think they'll be alright in this storm? I saw a wolf last night..."

Something flickers in Zakir's eyes, there and gone too quickly to decipher. He pauses, setting down his fork.

"They're resilient creatures, built for this landscape. I'm sure your wolf friend will weather the storm just fine."

There's a gentleness in his tone, a kindness that belies his gruff exterior. It makes me want to know more, to peel back the layers and discover the man beneath.

The moment stretches, charged with an energy I can't name. Zakir clears his throat, breaking the spell.

"More coffee?" he offers, already reaching for the pot.

I nod, unable to find my voice. He fills my mug, the rich aroma wafting between us.

As we finish our meal in a comfortable silence, I can't shake the feeling that something significant is happening here. That this storm, this cabin, this man...

So, I decide to do what I do best, and that's research. And not wildlife but the man in front of me.

Zakir gestures toward the bookshelf on the far wall and a stack of board games on the coffee table. "I have ways to pass the time," he says with a shrug. "And I do get company from time to time."

Intrigued, I wander over to the shelf, scanning the titles. A worn deck of cards catches my eye. I pluck it from its spot and hold it up with a raised eyebrow. "Want to play?"

A flicker of surprise crosses his face, followed by a hint of a smile. "Sure. Why not?"

We settle at the kitchen table, and I shuffle the cards with practiced ease. As I deal, I can't help but notice the way his hands dwarf the cards, making them look like toys.

We play a few rounds of rummy, the conversation flowing more easily now. Zakir tells me about his work as a diplomat, though he remains vague on the specifics. Still, it's interesting to hear about his travels and the different cultures he's encountered.

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