Page 9 of Feuding with My Shifter Werewolf

It's been nearly an hour, and I'm still struggling with the tent poles. I take a deep breath and return to the tent from hell.

The sun is rapidly sinking below the horizon, painting the sky in vibrant hues of orange and pink. Beautiful, but not exactly helpful when you're racing against the encroaching darkness.

"You can figure this out," I mutter under my breath, my fingers fumbling with the confusing array of poles and fabric.

As the minutes tick by and the tent remains a crumpled mess on the forest floor, frustration begins to simmer in my veins. I'm usually more prepared than this, more in control.

But the long hike and the weight of my impromptu decision are catching up with me, clouding my normally sharp mind.

The temperature drops with the sun, a chill seeping through my lightweight jacket. I shiver, realizing that I need to get a fire going soon if I want to avoid freezing my ass offwith no tent.

But of course, my attempts at starting a fire are about as successful as my tent-pitching endeavors.

I crouch over the small pile of kindling, striking a match with numb fingers. The tiny flame flickers and dies, snuffed out by arogue gust of wind. I grit my teeth, striking another match, then another. Each one fizzles out, mocking my efforts.

Darkness falls like a heavy curtain, and with it comes a creeping sense of unease. The shadows seem to press in around me, the once-friendly forest suddenly feeling vast and intimidating.

I'm not usually one to spook easily, but out here, alone and ill-prepared, I can't quite shake the prickle of vulnerability that dances along my spine.

Just as I'm about to give in to the rising tide of panic, I notice a faint glow in the distance. I squint, hope flaring in my chest as I realize it's the warm, steady light of a cabin window.

"Maybe they can help me," I murmur, already moving towards the light.

The temperature is dropping so fast that I tell myself it's just a practical decision, a way to get out of the cold and figure out my next steps.

But deep down, I know it's more than that. It's a lifeline, a connection to another human being in this vast wilderness.

I weave through the foliage, my eyes on the cabin. As I approach, I take in the rustic exterior, the weathered logs, and the curl of smoke from the stone chimney. It looks like something out of a mountain man fantasy, rugged and self-sufficient.

I paint a neighborly smile on my face as I climb the steps to the porch, my heart pounding in my ears.

The flicker of all the horror stories I've ever heard come to mind.

This could be like one of those crazy movies with the kids in the middle of nowhere with no one around but the crazed killer.

I pull back my hand and stare back in the direction that I came and see nothing but darkness.

The choices here are slim—freeze to death in the cold, or take my chances with the potential maniac inside.

"I'll take freeze to death in the cold for $100," I chuckle. There's no turning back without a lamp or something.

Why did I forget my flashlight?I shake off the thought and remind myself that this is all new. I'll get better. But first I need a fire.

I chuckle, trying not to be scared, and I raise my hand to knock on the heavy wooden door.

The door swings open before my knuckles even make contact, revealing a towering figure backlit by the warm glow of the interior. For a moment, I can only stare, my eyes widening as I take in the man before me.

Hello, sexy mountain man….I snap my mouth closed.

"Damn," slips out.

"Excuse me?"

My eyes widen as I take in the rugged stranger before me. Strands of dark hair, wild from the mountain gusts, fall haphazardly around a face chiseled from stone—each angle casting shadows of stark, untamed handsomeness.

His piercing gaze seems to undress me where I stand. And I'm hypnotized by his broad shoulders that fill the doorway and his commanding presence, towering well over six feet.

A jolt of pure, visceral attraction hits me like a truck, my pulse quickening and warmth flooding my cheeks.

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