Author: Carrie Vaughn
Category: Fantasy
Go to read content：https://readnovelfree.com/p/35027_18
Finally, he said, “I was sixteen. I moved in with Ben and his folks after my dad died. His mother was my dad’s sister.”
“Then Ben knew, too. He was part of the family history.”
“Hard to say. I think Aunt Ellen was just as happy to leave it all behind. Jesus, what am I going to tell her?”
“Nothing,” I said wryly. “At least not until the full moon falls on Christmas and Ben has to explain why he’s not coming home for the holidays.”
“Spoken with the voice of experience.”
Whispers: Interactive StoriesMake your own choices and decide what happens next!
“Yup. If Ben wasn’t in on the werewolf hunting from the start, how did you drag him into it?”
“I didn’t drag him—”
“Okay, how did you get him started in it?”
“Why do you want to know all this stuff about me?”
“You’re interesting.”
Cormac didn’t say anything to that, just went back to staring at me with a little too much focus.
I said, “Could you not look at me like that? It’s making me nervous.”
“But you’re interesting.”
Oh, my. That clenching feeling in my gut wasn’t fear— not this time.
I’d kissed Cormac once. It had been another situation like this. We were sitting and talking, and I let the urge overcome my better judgment. And he kissed back, for about a second, before he marched out of the room, calling me a monster.
Too many incidents like that could give a girl a complex.
He wasn’t running away this time.
I swung my legs over the edge of the couch and slipped to the floor. I ended up kneeling in front of him, where he was sitting, close enough to grab. And he still didn’t run. In fact, he didn’t move at all, like he was waiting for me to come to him. How did wolves do this? Weren’t the boys supposed to chase the girls? He wasn’t a wolf, though. He wouldn’t understand the signals.
Wolf was uncurling, overcoming her anxiety. Yeah, he was scary. Yeah, he was tough. That meant he could protect us. That was enough for her. That, and he smelled like he wanted me. He radiated warmth, and had a tang of sweat that wasn’t even visible. A tension held him still as stone. All I had to do was touch him and break him out of his immobility. I raised my hand.
“I—I can smell you.” The voice was low and painfully hoarse.
I must have jumped a foot. My heart raced like a jackhammer and I got ready to run.
Ben stood in the doorway to the bedroom, leaning against the wall. Still shirtless, his skin was pale, damp with sweat, and his hair was tangled. He only half opened his eyes, and he winced with what looked like confusion, like he didn’t know where he was.
“I can smell everything,” he said, sounding like he had bronchitis. He touched his forehead; his hand was shaking.
“Ben.” I rushed to him, intending to take his arm and steer him back to bed. He wasn’t well, he shouldn’t have been up.
As soon as I touched him, though, he flinched back. He crashed against the wall, his face stiff with terror. “No, you smell—you smell
wrong—”
His new instincts identified me as another werewolf— a potential threat.
I turned to call Cormac, but he was already beside Ben, holding his arm, trying to keep him still.
“No, Ben. I’m safe. It’s all right. Take a deep breath. Everything’s okay.” I tried to hold his face still, to make him smell me, to make him recognize that scent as friendly, but he lurched away. He would have fallen if Cormac hadn’t been holding him.
I put myself next to him again, intending to help drag him to the bed. This time, Ben leaned closer to me, squinting as if trying to focus. His eyesight was changing, too.