The Bite (Book 1)

Original Edition - Chapter 8: Heat

I felt like a freight train had run through my brain, backed up, then ran back through again.

I don't know if anything felt more horrible than the hangover I had. It took me almost twenty minutes to just physically get out of bed because I felt like I was either going to throw up or fall over from being so dizzy and disoriented.

I somehow made my way into the kitchen by following the faint smell of bacon. Derek was flipping pancakes while drinking a cup of coffee; I silently made my way to the worn Mr. Coffee coffee pot and poured myself a glass.

Derek bit back an 'I told you so,' smile and let me mix my cream and sugar into my morning go-go juice, which I was more than thankful for. The coffee tasted like heaven; like it was trying to help my body forget about all the whiskey that I had drunk the night before.

"So," Derek said slowly while turning the bacon over in the cast iron skillet sitting over the worn white stovetop. "How's the hangover?"

"I feel like Levi's wolf ate my brain, regurgitated it, and tried to stick it back into my head," I groaned.

Derek quickly reached into a cabinet and tossed me a Sam's size bottle of Ibuprofen. I quickly uncapped it, poured out three tiny red pills, then tossed them back.

"Thanks," I said before chasing the pills with more coffee.

"No problem Char, hope you like pancakes?"

I smiled as I passed him to sit on a barstool on the other side of the counter. "I love pancakes."

Pancakes were my favorite. My absolute favorite. My father used to make pancakes every Sunday. We would have bacon, eggs, and pancakes. He always made the best shapes too, one of my personal favorites was a puppy that he somehow created after burning three or four 'trials.'

"Where's Levi?" I looked around while taking another sip of the steaming liquid. He was usually into his third cup and buried into his morning paper by now.

Derek chuckled as he flipped a hot cake in his skillet. "I think Levi may have finally learned that he is not the master of the whiskey bottle."

I cringed a bit. The word 'whiskey' made me literally want to puke my guts out.

"What do you like on your's Char?"

"Just butter and syrup," I answered quickly.

He nodded and placed a few for me along with some bacon on a plate then set them on the counter in front of me. The butter was melting quickly onto the wolf-shaped cakes; I smiled inwardly as Derek handed me the syrup bottle.

"These look great," I said while popping open the syrup lid. "Thank you."

"Course," Derek said cheerfully. He plated a few for himself then moved to the barstool next to me. "So, you think you're ready for tomorrow?"

I sighed while I started to cut into my thick and fluffy pancakes. Tomorrow night. Tomorrow night would be the full moon; the night that would decide my fate.

I didn't really know if I was ready. I mean, how could anyone be ready for something like it? I knew I had gotten stronger in so many ways, yet in so many ways I still felt weak. I still felt like a scared little girl who just wanted to hide underneath the covers and pretend that all of this was a bad nightmare.

"I guess I don't really have a choice now."

I bit into the pancakes and almost let out a semi-orgasmic moan. I was convinced at this point in my life, that all food, well the majority of foods, always tasted one hundred times better when you were hungover and hungry. At this moment, these pancakes tasted like they were blessed by heaven and cooked in magic.