The Hunger (The Lycans 3)

Two, Caelan was certifiably insane.

Three, I’d hit my head so hard back in the woods that I was hallucinating.

Or lastly, what he said, and whatever he was about to show me, was the truth. Reality. Like this was actually happening.

I still wasn’t convinced he wasn’t about to get buck-ass naked in front of me, but his expression was completely serious, and I knew whatever was about to happen was important. Not that I should care. What I should be doing was escaping, maybe tackling his gorgeously large body to the ground and getting that knife from him.

Gorgeously large body?

I’d never felt desire of any kind in my twenty-three years, yet somehow this man brought out all kinds of wicked feelings in me and filled my head with totally inappropriate things.

Focus.

“This isn’t what this situation is about,” he stated matter-of-factly. “If I could do this fully clothed, I would. But as it is, they’ll tear, and I donna have many tae spare while staying here.” His expression stayed dead serious.

I had no clue what the future held, or what his true intentions were, but I felt like he spoke the truth about this not being some weird forced-sex thing, so I lowered my hand when he started to undo his button and the zipper of his jeans.

He pushed the denim down his strong legs, and I tried to calm my frantically racing heart. My curiosity got the better of me though, and I was fighting this internal battle not to check out the goods. A part of me hated that I wasn’t screaming and fighting him, or hell, I didn't know, trying to escape.

I replayed in my mind all the things he’d said to me, really just so I didn’t try to check him out. Maybe this was some super quick Stockholm syndrome thing going on? But how did he know I’d been essentially lost in myself? How did he know I’d been searching for… something to tie me to this world? Although I never thought about vampires or werewolves or any of the like, it was strange that I didn’t immediately dismiss what he’d said, didn’t scoff and say he was insane for even suggesting that stuff was real.

And as he pushed down his jeans fully and kicked them away, did the same with his underwear—which I was proud to say I kept my eyes trained on his face even though it was hard as hell—I held my breath as I waited for some monumental shift to take over my existence. I was waiting for that epiphany I had always hoped would settle in place like that missing puzzle piece I’d been searching for my entire life.

And what the hell was up with him saying mate? What did that even mean? Or what about him saying he could sense things from me?

What the hell does any of this mean?

At first, nothing happened as he stood there naked, and although I kept my focus on his face, there was no denying that I could definitely see a whole lot of flesh down below. And Lord have mercy did he have a lot going on.

I didn’t want to feel like I was measuring him for a suit or anything, but the man had to be six-foot-seven, maybe even an inch or two taller than that. And he didn’t look like he had an ounce of body fat on him, just hard, cut muscles that stood out in stark relief under his golden skin. But as I was doing a mental inventory of all the things he did have that made all my girlie bits tingle and come alive, I felt something change in the air.

“What are we waiting f—” My words were cut off as I felt the pressure change, this tightening all around me, a heaviness that pressed down on me. I looked down at my arms, moving my hands back and forth to stop the tingling that now covered them. The hairs on my forearm stood on end, static electricity starting to tickle my flesh.

I snapped my gaze back to him, and I heard this fierce gasp leave me. His eyes. His eyes were glowing. I scrambled back on the bed as best as I could, and then he was changing right before me. Like literally… changing into something else.

At that point I couldn’t move, my body locked into some kind of invisible force field that refused to let me look away. Although inside I was screaming, that flight-or-fight instinct telling me to leave, to escape, that this wasn’t natural or normal, I still stayed rooted on that mattress.

I felt like I was in a movie, like I was front row and center, watching a scene about a werewolf transforming.

The body stretching, skin tearing. The sound of bones snapping, fur sprouting.