Chapter 9 #3
She takes out a knife and cuts the fruit. “It’s really sweet. I mean, it’s not to everybody’s taste, but I really like it.” She holds out a slice, and I lower my head and take a bite out of it. Her eyes turn as wide as saucers. “I—I was going to give that to you.”
I ignore her words, chewing slowly before saying decidedly, “I like it.”
“You do?” The broad smile forming on her lips makes me feel light-headed. “I’ll cut some more for you.” As she sits down on the ground, she looks up at me. “You’re not mad at us anymore, are you?”
Us. She and her cat. They’re a package deal.
I drop down beside her and reach out to wrap a strand of her hair around my finger. “No.”
Her cheeks are bright red as she watches me play with her hair.
It shows her innocence even more when she doesn’t bat me away and focuses on slicing the fruit.
The juice drips from her hand down to her elbow, and as she’s about to wipe it off with her shirt, I grasp her wrist and run my tongue along the length of her arm.
There it is. That slightly tangy, musky scent.
Astra is frozen in place. “Wh–What are you doing?”
Her arousal is thick in the air now, and it makes my mouth water. The confusion in her eyes as to her own reaction excites the beast inside me even more.
“I didn’t want to waste anything.” My voice is low, and I can see the flush crawling over her face.
“Oh. Okay. Can you let go of me now?”
Her voice is small and breathy, and my cock hardens in my pants.
My wolf wants her. I want her.
If it were just lust, I could handle it. But this is something else: a desire to possess, to lay claim to her. And I can’t do that.
I release Astra’s wrist and stare moodily into the fire.
She sits beside me quietly, slicing up the fruit, but all the while, her heart is beating faster than normal. For lack of anything else to do, I begin skinning the rabbits and roasting them over the fire.
We eat in silence, lost in our own thoughts. When we’re done, she wraps up our remaining food, and as we begin walking, she hums softly—a sign, I’m beginning to recognize, of her being happy and content.
I don’t know the tune, but it’s relaxing, and I enjoy listening to her. The crickets and birds in the forest around us provide background music.
We’ve been walking for about an hour when she stops abruptly, her earlier embarrassment completely forgotten as her eyes fix on a cluster of pale green plants growing at the base of a massive pine tree.
“Oh,” she breathes, and there’s something almost reverent in her voice. “I can’t believe these are growing here.”
I follow her gaze to what looks like perfectly ordinary weeds. “What are they?”
“They’re…” She pauses, frowning slightly.
“I don’t actually know their proper name.
But they’re incredibly rare.” She moves toward them, her entire demeanor shifting to focused interest. “My mother’s journal calls them ‘white tears’ because of their shape, but I’ve never seen the official name written anywhere. ”
I watch her kneel beside the plants with careful admiration, her fingers hovering over the leaves without touching them.
“What do they do?”
“They’re part of the antidote for nightshade poisoning.” She glances up at me, and I catch the quiet excitement in her voice. Nightshade is a hallucinogenic for our kind. While it’s not incurable, the effects last for weeks.
“An antidote for nightshade?” I ask doubtfully as I scan the forest for any possible threats.
She nods excitedly. “It’s able to stop the effects within a couple of hours. I know. I tried it out on myself.”
“You did what?” All my attention is now on her.
She gives me a bright smile. “I consumed nightshade and tried different antidotes.”
The image of her sitting in her cottage alone, late at night, ingesting poison and then looking for a cure, makes my blood go cold.
“Are you insane?” I demand. “That’s dangerous. Why are you testing antidotes on yourself?!”
“I’ve always done that.” She gives me a blank look, as if I’m the strange one. “Anyway, I need to collect some of these,” she continues, pulling a small, cloth pouch from her knapsack. “They only grow in specific conditions, and I may never find them again.”
“Absolutely not!” I order.
“But I have to! This herb is very rare!” She protests. “And I can sell it for a lot of money once I make the antidote. I’ll give you a share of the proceeds.”
“I don’t need—”
But she’s already plucking them.
I scowl. Arguing with this woman is pointless. She simply doesn’t listen.
A few minutes later, she sighs heavily. “I can’t get them all myself.” She gives me a look that’s trying very hard to be pitiful. “My leg is so weak.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Your leg is fine.”
“What?” Her expression shifts to exaggerated innocence. “No, it’s still really bad. I can barely put weight on it.”
To demonstrate, she takes a step and lets out what might be the most unconvincing “ouch” I’ve ever witnessed.
“Astra.”
“It hurts,” she insists, but I can see her fighting back a grin. “I don’t think I can manage all this bending and digging by myself.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “I just watched you practically dance in front of me as we were walking.”
“That was...adrenaline,” she says solemnly. “From the excitement of…the fresh air.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“I’m an excellent liar,” she protests. “You’re just unusually observant.”
Despite myself, I feel my mouth twitch. “Flattery won’t work, either.”
“Please, Lucian?” She drops the act entirely, her voice taking on a note of genuine appeal. “I really do need your help. These herbs could make me a lot of money someday, and honestly, I can’t dig them all up properly by myself. The roots are very delicate.”
When she asks me this way—directly and candidly, without any attempt at manipulation—I find my resolve crumbling. There’s something about her earnestness that makes it impossible for me to say no.
“Fine,” I hear myself saying. “But I’m not doing this again.”
Her grin is triumphant and bright enough to light up the entire forest. “You’re the best.”
I try not to feel pleased at her praise as I—the crown prince of the entire Wolf Kingdom—crouch in the dirt, pulling weeds because a pretty girl batted her eyes at me.