Big Bad Wolfie

Chapter 23: 22 - A Rat's Butt

Uhhhhh.

Um.

Duh-uh.

Database brake down.

I need a second.

But apparently my feet don't give a crap.

Because they started stuttering on over without permission from my brain. My body parts have been

doing that lately.

It's getting annoying.

They kept going until they brought me right in front of the bed where he still lays nonchalantly. It's

aggravating how nonchalant he is while I'm going through this mental and emotional turmoil over here,

d@mmit.

He still holds the key out to me.

I already have a hunch about what's about to happen, but I did what I did anyway.

I reached up for the key.

And he grabbed my wrist, spun us around and pinned my back to the bed.

Like I called he would.

One of his hands stayed gripping both of mine above my head, while the other supported his weight.

And thank the goddess, because his shirtless body, flush against mine. . .

I don't even know what I'd do.

But even as he's holding himself up, the position combined with the mere sight of his jet black hair

dangling down in his ang — I was gonna say angular, but I'm going to change it to angelic — face —

much more fitting — is causing heat to rush to my face and every other inch of my body.

Which is insane.

Because even though I just fed, I'm always cold.

It's a vampire staple.

It's just not something that goes away. At least, not with me.

But don't even get me started on the look he is giving me.

It feels like he's burning through my skull with just a stare.

I don't want to mate him.

But freak, I really really wanna mate him.

I wonder if I bit him the feeling would go away.

His heart stopping chuckled jarred me out of my thoughts.

"Why are you looking at me like I'm a soufflé?" He questioned with amusement in his voice. Then it got

dark and husky again, "I'm the predator here," he mumbled as he ran his hand that's holding him up up

and down my side.

Oh my gosh.

My breath is stuck in a ball in my throat. Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

But I still manage to get this out, "Well maybe that's just what I want you to think."

He looks taken aback for a second and honestly shaken, so I figured it wasn't just my words that

startled him. My eyes have most likely turned red.

They do that sometimes.

Sometimes, meaning when I'm in beast mode, and the new addition, 'my mind refuses to work mode',

apparently. I don't know, it's never happened in this sort of situation before. It's only when I'm super

mad or my talent gets activated that this happens.

It's the mind blowingly hot douchebag on top of me that's the cause of this, I know it. That d@mn bond.

It's messing me up inside and out.

I calm my breathing and convert my eyes back to my regular green. There are some triggers that will

make them pop up automatically out of nowhere, but I can control them for the most part.

I don't have any other way to describe it, other than a beast mode.

And I suppose that's what it is.

Wolfie's lips moving to take in a breath of air in preparation to speak captured my full attention.

What's he got to say about my savage side that he just got a glimpse of.

It's different from what he knows. It's not a completely separate being in the back of my mind. It's like

an automatic instinct defense system. The vampire version of wolfing out, I suppose.

"Why haven't you been eating?"

Well that's not what I expected.

He didn't even ask me about the eye thing. I wouldn't be surprised if he already knew, but he doesn't

seem very caught up on vampire culture.

It's either that though, or he's just way overconfident about his enemy displaying a clearly threatening

trait — becomes it's not just the eyes, I know the kind of vibes that shift in chemistry gives off.

Or he could just not care and is more concerned about my well being.

I have a feeling it's a mixture of the last two. I know the mate bond pulls at him too. He thinks he's able

to hide it, but I see right through him.

"Because we were short on supply," I told him simply.

"But why you? There are lowers ranking vampires for stuff like that," he said, never breaking eye

contact from above me.

I know the look that covered my face was one of disgust before he even finished the sentence.

"I am their Second, soon to be Mistress. What kind of leader would I be if I left even one of them to

starve."

"So instead you starve yourself."

"Exactly."

Silence.

"I don't have to worry about what happens to me," I continue, "I know I can handle it. What happens to

everyone else, that's what I'm more concerned about."

Multiple things glint in his eyes, like clouds passing. Discontent, a hint of admiration, discomfort, lust.

So many things.

I wonder if he's any better at understanding them than I am.

I shrugged. At least, as best I could in this position. "besides, we only need a few pints of blood a

month. Skipping a few isn't going to kill me."

"Well apparently, according to the doctor, it can put you in a coma you never wake up from," he told

me.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Well that's good to know."

"I'll bet it is."

Silence.

Good, now I know I'm not lying when I tell people they're over exaggerating when they whine about

how I'm killing myself.

I'm not, it would just be a death like sleep.

"And about your sleep. How do you manage to be sleep deprived? Beings like us only need two to

three nights a month," Wolfie questioned with the shake of his head.

Ah yes, but I've heard werewolves usually try to get four or even five, to keep their beasts tamed. Same

with vampires and our thirst for blood.

I've never taken part in the practice.

Even lesser so recently.

Mind over matter is the way I've always thought.

And I'm honestly just waiting for that to blow up in my face.

"How bad could your nightmares be?"

D@mmit, did he have to bring that up?

I felt the anger start to bubble up, "Simply put. . . Bad," I gritted out.

I'm not mad at him.

I'm mad at the demons in my head.

"Well, your heart doesn't seem to agree."

"Hey, Wolfie?" I said instead of responding.

"Yes?"

Ha, he responded to it.

"You maybe wanna, I don't know, get off of me?"

"No."

"Oh."

"So, you're heart. It was beating like you were taking a stroll in a park when you woke up."

I frowned, "first of all, why are you asking me all these questions? Second of all, what in the shiitake

mushrooms are you talking about? My heart was beating out of my chest when I woke up."

His brow furrowed.

So did mine. "I'm surprised it didn't freaking explode."

His frown got deeper and was obviously seriously confused.

Then I remembered something, and everything made sense.

"Oohhhh, I forgot, you guy's hearts beat faster than a freaking jack rabbit," I say.

I think they go like, 40 bets per minute.

His confused look only grew with the shake of his head, "No, no, it's lower than the average mortal," he

said.

I raised an eyebrow, "Do I look like the average mortal?"

It seemed like realization finally struck him, and his mouth made an 'o' shape. Then he looked at me

funny. "What's you're resting heart rate? How many beats per minute?" He asked.

I shrugged again, "One."

"Yes, one minute."

"No, one beat per minute."

"What the fu —"

"On a good month," I cut him off. "One with lots of blood intake. Otherwise, like two every three

minutes."

"Holy crap."

I rolled my eyes. "You really tried to take over a species without actually knowing a rat's @ss about

them or how they work? How are you going to know how to kill us?"

"Well, I just assumed that along with ripping off your head like everyone says to do," he felt it necessary

to run his lean finger across my neck while saying that, "Stabbing or ripping out your heart will do."

I chortled, "Pft, better hope they don't receive any medical attention any time soon, or else they'll just

get a replacement and be able to keep on kicking. And probably be really pissed at you, too."

". . . Hm."

I let out a loud and embarrassing snort at his reaction.

He looked down at me with an expression that was dangerously close to caring. Maybe even. . .

Loving.

But, as soon as it came, it left. Just like it always does with him. And I just laid there, trying to convince

myself it was a trick of the light.

I sighed, "Are you done picking my brain?"

He mimicked my sigh, "Yes."

Oh, thank the goddess. Now if you could just —

"Wait. . . No."

"Nuh-uh, no backsies."

He let out a slow, dark chuckle. Then, when he was calmed down, he let his head roll to the side and

started racking my body with his gaze.

OMG.

I watched him take his sweet little time drinking me in, while goosebumps pricked at my skin.

Okay, I don't care if you call me a hypocrite for doing the same thing to him earlier, I need this to stop.

Like, now.

I can't handle being under him while his gaze burns into me.

Especially not with that look in his eyes.