Chapter 5
Lex
The generator coughed.
Lex's eyes snapped open in the pre-dawn darkness, every sense on high alert. The familiar hum that had been a constant background noise for days stuttered, caught, then resumed its normal rhythm.
Fuck.
He threw off the blanket and went to the window, pushing aside the curtain.
Ice crystals coated everything—the trees, the power lines, even the air seemed to sparkle with frozen moisture.
The temperature had dropped significantly overnight, and the old generator would be working overtime to keep the cabin warm.
From the sound of that cough, it was starting to struggle.
In the guest room, he heard Jules shift in her sleep, murmuring something his enhanced hearing couldn't quite catch.
His wolf stirred restlessly. These last few nights of her sleeping just down the hall had been one of the biggest tests he'd ever put himself through.
The hardest thing he'd ever done was forcing himself to stay in his room when every instinct screamed at him to go to her.
And after yesterday's walk, and the stupid way he'd confessed to practically stalking her, the tension between them had reached a breaking point.
He'd barely made it through dinner without hauling her into his lap.
When she'd announced she was going to bed early, it had taken every ounce of control not to follow her.
She wants us, his wolf insisted. She's not afraid.
But she should be. She had no idea what she was asking for. What being with him would mean.
The generator coughed again, longer this time.
He pulled on jeans and a thermal shirt, then headed to the kitchen. He'd check it after coffee. After he'd gotten his shit together enough to face another day of sweet torture.
Twenty minutes later, he stood at the kitchen counter inhaling his second cup of black coffee when he heard her door open. His entire body went rigid, hyperaware of every soft footfall as she approached.
"Morning." Her voice was sleep-rough, and it did things to him he didn't want to examine.
He turned, and immediately regretted it.
Her hair was tousled from sleep, falling in messy chestnut waves around her face.
She wore flannel pajama pants and an oversized sweater that kept slipping off one shoulder, revealing the delicate line of her collarbone.
Her green eyes were still heavy-lidded, and she had a pillow crease on one cheek.
She looked like everything he'd ever wanted and couldn't have.
"Coffee's ready," he managed, his voice rougher than intended.
She moved past him to get a mug, and he caught her scent, warm and sweet from sleep, with traces of his soap underneath. His cock stirred, and he gripped the counter until his knuckles went white.
"Did you hear that weird sound earlier?" she asked, adding cream to her coffee.
"The generator. It's struggling with the ice."
She turned to face him, concern flickering across her features. "Is it going to be okay?"
"Should be. I'll check it after breakfast."
They fell into their morning routine—him cooking while she sat at the counter—both pretending the air between them wasn't charged with days of unresolved tension. But today felt different. Heavier. Like the calm before lightning strikes.
When she reached for the syrup at the same time he did, their fingers brushed. But instead of pulling away, he grasped hers and held on.
"Lex." The way she said his name—soft, questioning, with just a hint of a plea—nearly broke him.
He should release her. Should put distance between them. Instead, he found himself turning his hand, letting their fingers interlock. Her pulse jumped under his thumb where it rested against her wrist.
"This thing between us," she whispered. "It's not going away, is it?"
"No." The admission scraped his throat raw. "It's not."
"Then why—"
The lights flickered. Just for a second. But in that brief moment of darkness, Lex felt his control slip. His eyes flashed, the wolf surging forward, and he knew—knew—they'd gone gold because Jules gasped.
The lights came back on.
She was staring at him, lips parted, eyes wide. "Your eyes..."
"They do that sometimes. Trick of the light." He pulled his hand away, leaning back in his chair.
But she was still staring, and he could see the wheels turning in that crazy mind of hers. Cataloguing all the strange things about him.
Before she could voice whatever conclusion she was reaching, he grabbed his coat. "I should check that generator."
"Lex—"
"Eat your breakfast before it gets cold."
Then he fled like the coward he was.
The generator shed was small, barely big enough for the machine and one person.
Lex squeezed inside and immediately saw the problem.
Ice had built up on the ventilation system, making the motor work harder than it should.
He grabbed his tools and set to work, trying to focus on the mechanical problem instead of the woman he'd left in the kitchen.
The woman whose scent was all over his cabin now. Whose laugh made his wolf purr. Whose nervous chattering he'd grown to love because he learned so much about her when she went off like that. Who looked at him like he was worth something, even after he'd admitted to essentially stalking her.
"Need help?"
He jerked upright, banging his head on a low pipe. Jules stood in the doorway, bundled in her coat and boots, cheeks already pink from the cold.
"You should stay inside where it's warm."
"You've been out here for an hour." She held up a thermos. "I brought coffee."
An hour? He'd lost track of time, hiding from her like a teenager. "Thanks."
She stepped inside out of the wind, and suddenly the small shed became impossibly smaller. There was nowhere to go that didn't put them within touching distance. He took the thermos, their fingers brushing, and that simple contact sent heat racing through his blood.
"Can you hold this?" He handed her the wrench, needing to adjust something behind the generator.
She took it, but when he squeezed past her to get to the back panel, his chest pressed against hers. They both froze. Her breath hitched, and he could hear her heart racing. Could smell the sudden spike of arousal that made his wolf claw at his control.
"Sorry," he muttered, but didn't move. Couldn't move. Her hands came up to rest on his chest, the wrench forgotten.
"You're burning up." Her brow furrowed with concern. "I can feel it through your shirt. Are you sick?"
"I run hot. Always have."
Her hands slid higher, cold fingertips grazing his throat where his pulse hammered.
"Jules." Her name was a warning. A prayer.
"I'm not afraid of you," she whispered.
"You should be."
"Why?" She tilted her face up, and they were so close he could feel her breath on his lips. "What are you so terrified of?"
Everything, he thought desperately. You'll run. You'll stay. You'll find out what I am. You'll accept it, but the others won't accept you. You'll be mine, but I won't be strong enough to fight for you.
The generator died with a mechanical wheeze.
They both looked at the machine, then back at each other.
"That's not good," Jules pointed out the obvious.
"Dammit." He'd been hoping to limp the thing along just long enough for the power to come back on. He gave it a good kick, but nothing happened.
"We'll manage." She touched his arm. "We've got firewood. Blankets. We'll be fine."
But he heard the slight tremor in her voice. Saw the way she was already hunching against the cold. His wolf snarled, hating that she was uncomfortable. Hating more that it was his fault for not maintaining the generator better.
They headed back inside, and Lex immediately set to building up the fire while Jules disappeared into her room to "layer up."
"Very fashionable," he said when she emerged wearing a mismatch of clothing, trying to lighten the mood.
She struck a pose. "I call it 'Mountain Freeze Chic.'"
Despite everything, he found himself smiling. This woman...
They spent the morning trying to stay warm.
Jules curled up on the couch near the fire with one of his books, wrapped in every blanket they could find.
Lex split more wood, bringing in enough to last through the night.
But as the hours passed and the temperature continued dropping, he could see her shivering despite the layers.
"Come here," he said finally, sitting on the couch beside her.
She looked at him warily. "Why?"
"Body heat." He kept his tone flat, logical. "It's the most efficient way to stay warm."
Jules blinked, her cheeks flushing a bright, frantic pink that had nothing to do with the freezing temperatures. Her hands immediately started moving, fluttering up to tug at the fringe of her scarf.
"Um… Lex," she started, her voice jumping an octave.
"I don't—I mean, I appreciate the offer.
I do. But I'm okay. Really. I have the blankets.
Three of them. That's a lot of wool. And I wouldn't want to.
.. impose." She let out a breathless, nervous laugh that sounded too loud in the quiet cabin.
"You've made it pretty clear that you like your space.
Personal bubbles and all that. I'm very respectful of bubbles.
I wouldn't want to make things weird or encroach on your side of the couch just because my teeth are chattering a little bit.
I can handle it. I can just... add another sweater? Or do jumping jacks."
She was doing it again. Talking to fill the silence, her anxiety spilling out in a torrent of words to keep him at arm's length.
"I'm not going to try anything," he interrupted, his voice dropping to a low rumble intended to soothe. He held her gaze, needing her to trust him. "Just... let me keep you warm. Please."