Chapter 8 Midnight Enlightenment
Midnight Enlightenment
Pascal
I couldn’t have slept for longer than a few hours because when I woke up, the forest outside was still dark.
I stretched on the mattress and wiggled my toes.
My ankle felt significantly better. Rolling my shoulders, I inspected the sensations in my back.
With only some residual soreness, I could try shifting today. Worst case, we’d wait for one more day.
Sleeping this close to Ansel after spending the entire day with him, I was all but soaked in his scent.
His soft breaths reached my ears. When I lay still, I could even hear his heartbeat.
I’d tried to talk myself out of the attraction, but it felt like being caught in quicksand.
The more I resisted, kicking around uselessly, the deeper I sank.
If it were just looks and scent, I could have fought it.
Probably. I’d done that before without much effort.
I could see and smell the young omegas in my classes, and even the prettiest boys were easy for me to ignore.
But no mental exercise could reduce the sharp-edged awareness I felt around Ansel. All of him fascinated me.
The way he moved, his nimble hands, the curve of his neck when he paused to think about something, how his forehead creased and smoothed out…
and his fierce independence facing his controlling parents, the intricate workings of his mind, how he didn’t take any of my bullshit and never let me intimidate him even though he was two decades younger than me and so tiny I could fit him in my pocket.
In the quiet darkness, I stopped kicking around and allowed myself to feel it. Smiling, I closed my eyes and really thought of him. Fizzy bubbles and glitter twirled in my mind around the laughing image of Ansel.
Oh my stars, I had it bad! For a nineteen-year-old.
Quietly, I sat up. There he was. Eyes closed, lips parted, hands folded in front of his face… I was grateful for my heightened senses. Even in the dark, I could trace his features.
I couldn’t tear my gaze off him.
Warmth grew in my chest, pulsating in time with the beating of Ansel’s heart. A lock of hair covered his forehead. My hand itched with a physical need to brush it away. I could lean in…
I jerked back and sat on my hands.
What was I doing?
Horrified at myself, I stared at the innocent sleeping boy.
Safe. Ansel had to be safe. Even from me.
Like last night, I got up and left the cabin. With my foot only subtly protesting the strain, I walked around and breathed in the fresh air, trying to clear my head.
I ached with the need to go back and sit close to Ansel. To do what? Watch him sleep, like a creep?
The dragon was restless. Anxious. It urged me to hurry back, my spine tingling.
Then the proverbial lightbulb flickered to life in my skull. I stopped in my tracks.
It couldn’t be.
That boy in there…? No.
I looked at the cabin, a crooked black silhouette in the night forest. Thin wisps of omega scent drifted through the air, clearly marking the path toward him.
I could sense him, feel the exact spot where he lay curled in his sleeping bag, as if his heart had become a new center of gravity in my world.
Never had anyone smelled like him. Never had anyone made me feel like this. I was hungry, aroused, afraid…raw. I felt raw.
It hit me harder than the lightning that had nearly killed me a couple of days ago.
Ansel is my mate.