Page 109 of Wolfkissed
Fuck.
We could try stealing a horse, but my scent spooks horses, even when I’m not anywhere close to shifting.
I stop and she glances around, panting, her cheeks flushed red. “What do we do?”
“Climb on my back,” I say. “I’ll run.”
“Are you crazy? You can’t run like that.”
“Want to bet? I’ve carried sacks filled with rocks and prey that’s five times your weight while running.”
“Sacks filled with rocks?”
“For training.” I turn my back to her and crouch down. “Now, Princess, or they’ll catch us. Hop on. Or would that be too inappropriate?”
She gives a soft snort, mutters something about it being “too late for that,” and climbs onto my back, her arms around my neck, her legs curled around my hips.
Her face is pressed to the back of my neck, her hair tickling my skin, her scent… Fuck, I’m hard, so fucking hard for her, I can’t bear it.
But I get up, grab her legs to make sure she doesn’t fall off, and race the hell out of this town.
I race through fields, meadows and woods, over rises and down hollows in the land. Her hair lashes my face sometimes, her arms loosen around my neck, but I keep her on my back as I run and run. My bare feet are used to the ground, and a light shift comes over me, turning my soles into hard pads, turning my nails into claws, and my face…
Well, it’s a good thing she can’t see it right now, although she has seen me half-shifted before and she didn’t shy away.
That’s such a warm memory, and I keep it close to my heart, though I try not to poke it too hard. Not with everything in me already needing her. I fear that the fragile memory might break and cut me to pieces.
Finally, I come to a stop at the foot of a steep hill, near a thicket, and I crouch down so she can climb off me. I don’t fully release her legs until I’m sure she’s on the ground and steady.
Then I plant my ass down and take a moment to regain my bearings.
She sits down beside me. “Are you okay? You must be exhausted.”
“I’m fine. I could have used some breakfast, though.”
“Is that a wolf thing?” she quips. “Thinking of food all the time?”
“We also think about sex. We divide our time between the two.” I laugh at her nonplussed expression. “Oh, Princess. You’re easy to tease.”
She winces. “Too naïve.”
“You’re learning. Not so naïve anymore. Also, didn’t I tell you I only tease the people I like?”
A smile tugs at her lips. “Is that true?”
“Yeah. Cross my heart.”
“Isn’t that a human expression?”
“And we’re speaking your language, or hadn’t you noticed? We fae borrowed your language and customs for our everyday exchanges. We keep the old tongue mostly for formal and ceremonial situations.”
Her brows arch. “Oh. I thought you still used it among yourselves.”
“A few centuries ago, perhaps we still did. Not anymore. At least, not among the werewolves. Can’t really speak for the fae living among you, or even every dark fae clan living on the mountains or the world rim.”
She nods, looking thoughtful. As if this is a relevant topic of conversation to our circumstances, a topic we need to discuss right now.
As if we’re not sitting on the ground, filthy and sweaty, out of breath, running away from the people hunting her, hunting both of us, a werewolf and a human girl who should have nothing in common and yet are on this journey together.
