The Hunter's Queen (ICS Book Two) - Wattys2017

Chapter Five - Sleeping Arrangements

Sleeping Arrangements

Vincent wanted to throttle the girl. He moaned and rubbed a hand over his face, blinking his eyes repeatedly. For most of the day he'd been in and out of consciousness. At least he was no longer seeing random colors, for a time Evelyn's face had been lavender.

Evelyn thankfully kept quiet, popping out of the cottage whenever he came too. At least the woman was intelligent enough to make herself scarce after accidentally drugging him. 

It seemed he just couldn't win as of late.

The door opened with a bang, letting in a brisk cold breeze. Evelyn stumbled inside, her arms laden with firewood. She kicked the door shut with a grunt, nearly falling over backwards. Vincent shook his head as he watched her struggle. The girl was the definition of clumsy. It amazed him that she had managed to survive on her own at all.

Dumping the wood by the stove she straightened, her thick glasses sitting crookedly on her nose and long strands of hair falling over her face. His inner wolf found it oddly endearing, while the man in him scowled with annoyance.

Hurriedly she tried to right herself, blushing as she noticed he was watching her. He found her discomfort oddly pleasing. His wolf did as well, giving an appreciative growl.

Running his tongue over a fang he continued to stare as Evelyn brushed snow off her coat and hung the wet garment up by the door. She then proceeded to kick off her boots, sighing with relief. The woman apparently could not stand to wear shoes.

She was just so odd. She was also pointedly ignoring him.

When the girl began stacking firewood without acknowledging his presence Vincent just about had enough. "Are you always like this?" he asked grumpily. Evelyn blinked up at him, clearly confused. He had to admit her silver eyes were stunning, which irritated him further. "Answer me when I talk to you, girl," he demanded harshly.

"I don't understand the question," she murmured, clearly embarrassed.

"Forget it," he grumbled. "Bring me some water. And no drugging me this time." She remained were she was, her brows raised over her glasses. He glared at her and snapped, "Are you daft?"

"No. I'm just waiting for you to ask nicely." She sniffed, hitching up her chin.

He had to resist the sudden urge to laugh. The girl confounded him, one minute shy and timid the next fiery and defiant. "Please." The forced word was little more than a growl.

She rolled her eyes. The woman actually rolled her goddamn eyes at him! She obviously had no experience with one of his kind.

Throwing her hands up in obvious frustration she fetched him a glass of water. He waited patiently as she walked over to him, a predator ready to pounce. When she was within reach he moved fast, grabbing her arm and yanking her roughly down on the bed. The glass smashed to the floor as she gave a cry of surprise. She landed over his lap on her stomach, her long blonde tresses spreading out around her.

Wrapping a thick braid of her hair around his fist he growled down at her. "Let me make something clear to you, girl. I am a dominant werewolf. You understand what that means do you not?" She shook her head against the bedding, her body trembling. His inner wolf felt a sharp stab of pleasure at the sight. "It means my wolf demands respect," he rumbled. "You would do well to remember that. Do you understand?"

She nodded into the blankets. Her scent struck him, tinged with arousal.

Fuck! 

Such a submissive creature. And so damn responsive.