Page 51 of Lycan Prey
“So cute when you’re angry. I can’t wait to see your bed hair in the morning,” I chuckle.
“Moon Goddess help me, I’m gonna kill him in his sleep!” she flops back down on the bed.
She turns off her lamp and settles in, facing away from me. The distance between us, marked by her wall of pillows, feels like miles.
Curious about her restless sleep habits, I decide to stay up and read. The soft glow of my reading lamp casts shadows across the room, and for a while, everything is calm.
As the night deepens, Bree begins to squirm, the pillow wall disappearing as she kicks at the sheets. Her movements are subtle at first, then grow more pronounced. She moans and groans, clearly in discomfort. I set my book aside, concerned. Is she dreaming? Except dreams don’t hurt, so why is she in a fetal position?
Later into the night, Bree’s tossing and turning intensifies. I find myself unable to focus on my book. Her moans grow louder and more frequent, and her movements become more restless.
I sit up in bed, contemplating whether I should wake her up. Before I can decide, she rolls over and inches closer to me, her head resting on my chest as she continues to sleep.
I stare down at her, unsure of what to do. She looks so peaceful now, when only moments ago she seemed to be insuch discomfort. I gently stroke her hair, hoping it will soothe whatever is causing her distress in her sleep.
Without thinking, I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her closer against me. Her body relaxes against mine, and she lets out a content sigh.
For some reason, this feels right. Having Bree snuggled against me like this feels natural, even though we barely know each other. I stare at the ceiling.
Why did she seem like she was in pain? Knowing she will keep me up, I’m hesitant, at first, but then give into the urge, using my calling. It’s a low, soothing purr that resonates from deep within me, a sound known to calm and sedate. I shouldn’t use it on her—using it on a female, especially a werewolf like Bree, can be manipulative, crossing a line. But she doesn’t stop moving, and I can’t sleep with her wriggling against me.
As the calling takes effect, she quiets, snuggling closer, and I roll toward her before having to stifle my own laugh as she purrs in response, soft and rhythmic, against my chest. This is unexpectedly endearing that she is reacting to my calling.
Eventually, we both fall asleep like this - me with my arm securely around Bree’s waist and Bree burrowed against my chest.
The next morning, I wake up to find Bree still sleeping soundly next to me, though when I glance at the clock, I’m trying to figure out why I have awoken at such an ungodly hour. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, wondering if I should wake Bree. But then I remember how restless she was last night and decide to let her sleep a little longer. She looks so peaceful and content in her slumber, and I don’t want to disturb that. Instead, I reach for my phone and check the time. It’s only 6 AM. I sigh and turn off my alarm before settling back against the pillows. My arm is numb from having it wrapped around her all night, however I don’t dare move for fear of waking her up.
Instead, I take the opportunity to study her face as she sleeps peacefully next to me. Her eyelashes fanned out against her cheeks. Her lips are slightly parted, revealing a glimpse of her pearly white teeth. There are no creases on her forehead or lines around her eyes, just pure peacefulness. Leaning forward slightly, I smell her. I would die if she woke up right now and caught me scenting her like I accused her last night. Yet I can’t help myself. Bree’s hair smells of fresh rain and lavender, a combination that is both calming and invigorating. Her skin has a subtle scent of jasmine, sweet and comforting.
Why she felt so uncomfortable in her sleep last night is a mystery. Is it something that happens often? Is there anything I can do to help? I feel an unfamiliar sensation—Bree’s hand, somehow having found its way inside my boxers. Her touch is unintentional, but it sends a jolt through me, explaining what has woken me. I try to wake her, but she’s in a deep sleeper, it appears. I give her a little shake when her fingers squeeze tighter around my cock. I chuckle softly when I notice she’s also drooling on my chest. She is going to lose her damn mind when I wake her.
“Bree?” I murmur gripping her wrist but she hangs on for dear life like it’s a tug of war! I grit my teeth when I feel her nails rake the inside of my thigh. Then she groans, her legs moving under the sheets while she tries to strangle my cock in her death grip. Her brows pinch, her grip loosening slightly as the strange pains she had last night return. Had I not witnessed it last night, I would think she was just dreaming, but it’s clear she is in pain.
“Bree,” I say gently as she stirs, blinking herself awake. She stares at me confused. She wipes her mouth sitting up slightly and peering around the room like she forgot she slept in here last night.
“Morning, can I have my cock back by any chance or are we amping up this fake engagement and going all in?” I ask her.Her gaze darts to her hand and her eyes widen in horror as she stares down at her hand inside my pants.
“Yeah, you’ve got hold of my cock,” I laugh.
She sputters when she realizes where her hand is.
“Oh my Goddess,” she gasps, pulling back as if I’m on fire.
“I was okay with you trying to kick the soul out of me, even okay with you hugging me, and can handle you drooling on me.” Her eyes go to my chest as I wipe her drool off me. “I draw the line at giving me blue balls, though,” I tell her. She covers her face with her hands, humiliated.
“It’s okay,” I try to reassure her, seeing she’s mortified.
“It’s not okay! I can’t believe I… I’m so sorry,” she stammers, face red as a beet when she groans, clutching her stomach. “Motherfucker,” she grunts, moving to climb out of bed. I roll toward her, grabbing her sleep shorts and dragging her back onto the bed.
“Hey!” she growls at me. I want answers, because I know this isn’t normal and leaves me with one conclusion I can think of.
The pain makes me curious about her past, the one she is so desperate to hide from me.
“Soren, let me go!” She thrashes so I pin her, crawling on top of her and pushing my body between her legs. She thrashes even more, lashing out. “Get off me, you Neanderthal!” she shrieks and I drop my weight on her. She lets out a huff but stops thrashing.
“You kept me up all night. I want answers, and until I get them, you’re not leaving,” I tell her. She looks away, and I lift my weight from crushing her. “Was he your mate?” I ask, my voice gentler now. I must strike a chord because she swallows and her eyes brim.
She then turns her face back to me and glares at me.
