Captive Of The Warg, (Wargs of the Outland #2)

Only A Nibble

Basil's muzzle twitched on Reia's lap, the pup lost in dreams. If only she could sleep as easily. Without the protection of the trees, the wind had long since whipped her torchlight to smoke. The wargrex hadn't bothered lighting it again.

He hadn't bothered saying anything, either. Not for hours. But his execrating glare left her skin prickling. Not a single word other than to command she look down the mountain—to make her see what she'd chosen not to believe.

Her eyes were closed, her back against an overhang of prodding rock. Yet she couldn't unsee the mountain range below the ledge—the soaring peaks like a vast, encompassing rampart. And the wall of ice blocking the only way out.

He hadn't lied—the pass was closed. She was trapped here. Death was her only escape, until spring, and she was done pretending there was any glory in running away. Running from one predator only to be prey for another. Though it rattled her spleen to admit as much, she and Basil were better off with the wargs than out here on their own.

She huffed softly, her brow pinching. Basil's ears fluttered as her stomach grumbled with hunger. The fat ice berries she'd stashed in her pack were of no use to her now because she had no idea where her food pack was. Somewhere buried in aurog blood and snow. Fucking bastard aurog. And there'd been no meat left on its carcass for her to eat, for the ice bear had scavenged her kill. Fucking bastard bear.

She was thankful, at least, that the snow had ceased. And that the warg was letting her rest a while. How human of him, she thought with another snort.

"Speak if you have something to say, I grow tired of your little grunts." Bayne's sudden bark of annoyance had her eyelids springing apart. He was sitting with his broad naked back to the sheer drop, the wind blasting between them as it flattened the yellow grass weeping violently over the side of the cliff.

Reia's spine stiffened. "And I grow tired of your maggot-sucking stares!"

Basil sat up with a whine, his gaze bouncing from Reia to Bayne, and then back again. With a huff worthy of a temple priest, he trotted off. But Reia didn't dare watch him disappear into the frozen underbrush—there was a bigger, deadlier wolf in her midst.

For a moment the warg did naught but glare back, bemused.

Well, she hadn't exactly countered with her best insult. She didn't even know what a fucking maggot-sucker was, it'd just pounced off her tongue. And he was naked, so it was hard to think straight faced with all that bare skin.

Cheek ticking dangerously, the warg stood up. With fluid, predatory grace, he moved towards her. That ember-bright gaze narrowed to dagger slits. "What was that you said earlier about me biting you?"

A strange thrill skated up her arms, his nearness making her swallow. And then his words sunk in. Her stomach curled with both dread and...anticipation. What in Maeda's name was wrong with her?! There was nothing attractive about the choler shooting from his eyes. But that didn't stop her belly clenching down low. Nor the tingles in her fingertips, too hot to be frostbite. The thought of him biting her was... Gods, she was mad! When she opened her mouth to speak, the anger in her tone was all for herself. But he didn't need to know that. "I said later, when I'm safe."

"You will never be safe with me," he growled, looking disturbingly hungry.

She leaned towards him, her mouth pinching in a defiant smile. "You're all talk and no teeth, warg."

He pressed closer, too, almost nose to nose, daring her to move back. She didn't, but she didn't lean in any further, either. There was something flaring in his eyes now—something other than anger. "Careful, fureia, or I'll think you want me to bite."