Page 66 of Our Little Monster
“What do you want to know?”
“Have you ever loved a woman?”
“Yes,” he said simply. “Have you ever loved a man?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever had the time to,” I replied honestly. Being on the move most of my life, my love life primarily consisted of one-night stands and maybe some weekend fun, but not much more than that.
Anytime I tried long distance, the next time I came to town, the guy would be shacked up with someone else and I’d just move along to the next.
“That’s a shame. You deserve to be loved,” he said, and I looked over at him, tentatively meeting his gaze. “Cherished,” he continued, his eyes stirring with so much emotion I had to clear my throat and look back toward the trail.
I wanted to change the topic, but after what Nox said in the garage the other day, I couldn’t stop my curiosity.
“Have you ever… shared, a woman?” I asked slowly, and he cocked a brow in my direction, a small grin curving the corner of his lips at my curiosity.
“Yes,” he said, and heat started creeping up my neck, flushing my cheeks.
“Have you all… shared?” I pressed further, but he knew who I was referring to.
“Nox and I have. I don’t think Bastian ever has, but he’s always been a little more… possessive, though I’m sure he could be persuaded.” He eyed me, and it was as if he read my mind as he answered the next question that had been stirring in my thoughts. “And no, I haven’t ever loved the women I shared; it was for a night of pleasure and nothing more.”
“Wouldyou share a woman you loved?” I asked, and then I realized that we weren't walking anymore, and he was facing me, crowding me. I could feel the warmth of him with how close he was to me.
“I’d never deny the woman I love anything, be it pleasure or something else,” he whispered, and I shivered, heat instantly tugging on my center.
His face was so close to mine, but right when he began to lean into me, a guttural growl shattered the stillness of the woods.
My head snapped in the direction of the sound, and my eyes locked onto a pair of fiery orbs—those of a Werewolf. Its massive form emerged from the shadows of the early morning woods, muscles rippling beneath coarse fur, teeth bared in a feral snarl.
I didn’t have time to process what was happening before Thorne tossed me to the side and the monster attacked. Growls and snarls filled the air, talons slashing into Thorne’s side with reckless abandon.
“Thorne!” I screamed, dread curling in my gut.
Without a second thought, I unsheathed the small silver dagger I kept in my boot and lunged forward, my movements a blur as I intercepted the beast's next slash on Thorne.
I shoved the blade into his back, digging past flesh and sinew.
I would never leave the house again without all my weapons. My dagger was all I had, and it wouldn’t do much. Not here.
The Werewolf yelped and then sent Thorne flying through the woods. His body thudded against a nearby tree, his expression pained as he slid to the ground in a heap.
The beast turned on me as I back-stepped, clutching my bloodied dagger in my palm, and the crunch of bones and peeling of skin sounded for a moment before a massive naked man stood before me.
“I’m after you, Velika,” he spat, his voice still sounding more beast than human.
“Yeah, I’m sure you’re not the only one,” I scoffed, lifting my dagger, holding my confidence regardless of the fear I felt. I had never taken a Werewolf down with just a dagger, but there was a first time for everything.
With a guttural snarl, the Werewolf lunged at me again, his claws extending, but he didn’t fully shift.
I sidestepped just in time, feeling the rush of wind as he swiped at empty air. I countered, slashing with my dagger, but he was agile, managing to dodge me easily.
I could feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins as I evaded the Werewolf's ferocious attacks. The dagger felt warm and reassuring in my hand, the only thing keeping me grounded, focused.
The Werewolf circled again, its eyes fixed on the glimmering silver with hatred. He growled, sensing the danger it posed.
And then Thorne leapt on him from behind, going for his neck, trying to rip the Werewolf’s head from his shoulders. But the beast lifted his clawed hands, shoving his razor-sharp talons into Thorne’s back as he threw him off.
“Stay out of this, bloodsucker. I just want my revenge!” he roared as Thorne landed on his feet, readying to go for him again.
