Chapter 4 Little Cabin in the Woods
Little Cabin in the Woods
Pascal
I’d scared the poor kid so much he’d fallen on his ass.
Now he kept blinking up at me with wide eyes as we stumbled down the slope toward what looked like an old hunting cabin.
The thick canopy of pines hid the house from anyone flying above it, and moss grew on its roof. No wonder nobody knew it was here.
My foot hurt like hell when I put weight on it, but I couldn’t lean on Ansel too much or I’d crush the petite omega. Biting back grunts of pain, I shuffled next to him as he pointed out roots and stones.
“Almost there,” he said, his voice too bright.
I couldn’t help but smell him. I tried not to—he looked like a doe-eyed freshman, way too young for me to be getting any ideas.
But his natural perfume tickled my lungs and warmed me on the inside.
He smelled like berries and cream, the fragrance rising from his tousled hair and getting stronger.
When he opened the door to the cabin and ushered me in, I almost choked on the pungent scent.
Was he older than he looked? Because the cabin smelled like… ugh. I squeezed my eyes shut.
Slick and omega sweat. And…blueberries?
Taken aback, I stumbled and accidentally put weight on my left foot. It was the reminder I’d needed. Any arousal the scent might have caused was erased by the stabbing pain in my ankle. Which was a blessing since me getting hard while buck naked would probably make the boy run off into the forest.
Ansel handed me a towel and a blanket without looking at me. I quickly wrapped the towel around my hips in lieu of underwear and threw the blanket over my shoulders.
“Sorry, it’s really small,” Ansel said. “Please, sit down.”
There was nowhere for me to sit but the bed, so I pushed the open sleeping bag to the side and sat on the edge. Ansel took off his waterproof gear and hung it on hooks by the door. Then he lowered himself onto a small stool by an iron stove and began sorting through a basket of firewood.
Watching his profile as he worked, I couldn’t help but notice how lovely he was.
His lips looked puffy, the pink skin delicate, and his lashes were almost too long to be real.
He had soft brown eyes, almond-shaped and big.
The kind of eyes that made you forget what you were thinking if you stared into them for a heartbeat longer than you should.
When he glanced at me, I avoided his gaze, as if he could singe me with those eyes.
He’s barely legal. Snap out of it.
What was a young omega like him doing all alone in a hunting cabin in the middle of nowhere?
Sounding overly casual, he said, “So, a dragon?”
That was a potential disaster. But how much had he seen? How hard would it be to convince him that it had been a figment of his imagination? Most people were ridiculously gullible.
“What dragon?” I pitched my voice low, not attempting to seem threatening, but I wouldn’t go out of my way to be overly nice either. If he was afraid, his brain might suppress the memory.
But Ansel straightened his spine and looked into my eyes, undeterred. “You changed from a dragon into a guy,” he stated firmly. “I was there.”
The boy had guts; I had to give him that. “What? No. That would be ridiculous.”
He glared at me, his scowl ridiculously pretty on his captivating face. I gave him an innocent, confused smile. All the same, I felt my neck heat. Ansel’s sweet looks were most distracting.
He pointed at me with a slender finger. “Your ears are bright red. You know what you’re doing is called gaslighting, right?”
I sighed. The kid deserved my respect. I wouldn’t get anywhere with him if I tried to manipulate him. Weirdly, that didn’t seem like a bad thing. A part of me was relieved I didn’t have to lie to him. Not much, anyway.
“I apologize. That was mean of me.”
Ansel hummed in acknowledgment of my apology, opened the stove, and began preparing the fire. He chose a few thin logs, small dry twigs, and a wax baggie for a fire starter. He knew what he was doing.
“My granddad used to say he went to this cabin to be left in peace and watch the dragons fly.” Focused on his task, Ansel didn’t look at me as he continued to punch holes in the secret my kind had guarded for millennia.
“He said they usually came right after sundown. He’d sit by the lake with his fishing rod, and they would circle above the forest and soar over the mountain peaks.
He said the dragons came here because, like him, they wanted to be left in peace.
I was a kid, so I thought it was just another one of the fairytales he told me before bed.
” He scoffed softly and shook his head. “My father says Granddad was clinically insane. The black sheep of the family.” He made a quotation mark in the air with one hand, his voice gaining an angry edge, then he pinned his clever eyes on me. “And here you are.”
I had nothing to say. People couldn’t see us without direct sunlight. It was a well-known fact.
Except for Ansel’s deceased granddad, it seemed.
My mind swirled with questions and implications, but I couldn’t say anything without revealing even more than what the boy already seemed to know.
He studied me, matches ready in his hands.
Panic fizzled in the back of my mind as I scrambled for any tale that could help me salvage the situation.
At the same time, I couldn’t bring myself to lie anymore.
“Can you, like, control it?” he asked. “Or does it happen every other moon like with werewolves?”
I chuckled at his questions, feeling a little helpless. “I can control it. And werewolves aren’t real.”
“But you are.”
Screw it. “I apologize for questioning your sanity earlier. What you saw was real.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed. He turned back to his task and lit the stove, watching the flame spread before closing the door.
“I kinda wish you’d kept lying until you’d convinced me so I could have gone on as before.”
It was what I’d intended at first, but I just…couldn’t do it. Not with Ansel’s almond eyes on me. Orange light flickered through the thin gaps in the stove door, brightening his face. He had a few freckles on the bridge of his nose.
“Are there more folks like you? Or was it you my granddad saw?”
Oh, if he only knew. “I can’t answer that.”
“Why?”
“It’s not my secret to tell.”
“So, the answer is yes,” he concluded.
I laughed exasperatedly. “No. There is no answer. This is one of the best-kept secrets in the world, Ansel.”
He poured some water from a jug into an old, scratched glass and handed it to me. “You just crash-landed that secret in my backyard. Doesn’t that justify at least some answers?”
Ansel was cute and clever.
“Maybe. But I won’t be able to tell you everything.”
“That’s okay. Just the basics are fine.” Then he frowned, nodding at the glass. “You do drink water, don’t you?”
Instead of answering, I downed the water and gave him the glass back. “Thanks. I needed that.” He was still looking at me expectantly. “Just the basics?”
“Yes. I feel strangely calm, and I’m trying to figure out if that’s because you’re harmless or because I’m nuts.”
I liked this boy more by the second. “You’re a brave little guy, aren’t you?”
He shrugged. “A couple of hours ago, I was huddled in my sleeping bag, terrified by a thunderstorm. It’s all relative.” His lips curved into a crooked smile, a dimple popping in his cheek. I felt suddenly hot under the blanket. The scent surrounding me wasn’t helping.
Too young. Besides, he saw you in dragon form.
“Do you eat people?” He posed the question as if we were talking about a restaurant menu.
“No. I don’t eat in my other form and definitely not living creatures.”
“Are you like an herbivore?”
I raised my eyebrows at his word choice, wondering if I should be insulted. “I’m not a vegetarian, but I only rarely eat meat. It’s not good for the climate.”
He blinked. “You’re a dragon who avoids meat because of the climate.”
I shrugged.
Ansel circled a finger in the air, frowning thoughtfully. “There was a joke somewhere in there, but I can’t pinpoint it.”
“Am I a joke to you?” I tried to sound outraged, but Ansel only snickered.
“It’s just so bizarre to be even thinking these thoughts and having this conversation.”
From his point of view…sure.
Then he tilted his head to the side, and a cute little crease appeared between his eyebrows. “Why did you crash?”
Now that was embarrassing. If my brothers knew, I’d never hear the end of it. “A miscalculation.”
“You weren’t being chased by government drones or fighting gargoyles or anything like that?”
Where was he getting these ideas? “I didn’t double-check the weather app before I went flying.”
Ansel, damn him, burst out laughing. “Really?”
“What’s so funny about that? I could have died. The lightning bolt hit right next to me when I dove.”
“So it was a lightning strike.”
“The damage in the forest? Yes. I’d be ground meat if I’d caused all of that.”
He looked at me a little longer, then the playfulness disappeared from his tone. “Are you dangerous for me in any way?”
I arched one eyebrow. “Do you think I’d tell you if I were?”
“No. But I think I’d be able to tell if you lied about it.”
He would see through me, wouldn’t he? Hell, who was Ansel? The things he said, how he held himself, how he faced me with defiance and humor… He seemed suddenly older and impressively intelligent. “I’m not dangerous at all.” Not for him, anyway. “I promise.”
“Cool. Do you want some tea, Pascal?”
“Yes, please.”