Page 101 of Scarred Savages
Before I can respond, strong hands grip my waist. I yelp as Axel lifts me effortlessly off the log and deposits me squarely in his lap, arms wrapping possessively around my waist.
“Hey!” I protest, though I don’t actually try to move. “I was in the middle of an important life skill acquisition.”
“You still are,” Axel says. “I’m just providing a more comfortable seat.”
Oli grins, seemingly unbothered by Axel’s territorial display. He hands me a skewer with a fluffy white marshmallow already speared on the end.
“Here’s how it works,” he explains, guiding my hand toward the fire. “Hold it just above the flames, not in them, and rotate slowly. Otherwise—”
Too late. My marshmallow bursts into flame.
“—that happens,” Oli finishes with a laugh.
I pull back the flaming sugar ball, blowing frantically to extinguish it. “Is it ruined?”
“Some people like them charred,” Axel says, his breath hot against my neck. “Extra hot and gooey.”
I squirm in his lap.
Oli rolls his eyes but doesn’t seem truly annoyed. “Fine, but I’m still teaching her the sacred art of marshmallow roasting. Her first taste cannot be a charred one.” He shifts closer so he can still help guide my hand. “Perfect,” he says as the marshmallow puffs and turns golden. “Now we let it cool for just a second…”
He carefully pulls the marshmallow from the skewer and holds it up to my lips. “Open up.”
I part my lips, and he places the warm, gooey goodness on my tongue. The sweetness explodes in my mouth, and I can’t help the little moan that escapes me. A bit of marshmallow still clinging to Oli’s fingers.
I capture his hand and bring it to my mouth, licking the sticky sweetness from his fingertips. Oli’s breath hitches, his pupils dilating as he watches me.
“Luna,” he groans, the sound sending heat pooling low in my belly.
A drop of melted marshmallow escapes the corner of my mouth. Before I can wipe it away, Axel turns my face toward him and leans in. His tongue darts out, slowly licking the sweetness from my skin.
“Delicious,” he murmurs against my cheek, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through me.
“I think I love marshmallows,” I whisper, earning twin chuckles from both men.
“Wait till you try chocolate and graham cookies with it,” Oli says, already preparing another marshmallow.
Around us, the tenants continue their conversations, but it feels like we’re in our little bubble. Axel’s hands trace idle patterns on my hips, and Oli feeds me another perfectly roasted marshmallow, this time with a piece of chocolate and cookie.
The combination is even better, rich and sweet. A bit of chocolate melts on my lower lip, and this time it’s Oli who leans in, his thumb gently wiping it away before bringing it to his mouth.
“You’re right,” he says, voice husky. “Delicious.”
The tension between us is electric, and my wolf stirs again, more insistent now, pushing closer to the surface.
“Your eyes,” Axel whispers, turning my face toward him. “They’re changing.”
I blink, realizing he’s right. I can feel it—my vision sharpening, colors becoming more vivid. My wolf is responding to them, to this moment.
“It happened before,” I admit. “Earlier in the woods, I…”
I trail off, not wanting to bring up the Damien incident. But Axel seems to sense my discomfort and tightens his hold on me.
“That’s good,” he says. “She’s getting closer to the surface.”
Across the fire, I catch Hudson watching us. Our eyes lock before he turns away, resuming his conversation with one of the tenants.
“One more marshmallow?” Oli offers, already preparing it.
