bite. chapter 31- renegade massacre

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“Huh-” Michael murmured sleepily as he his hand touched my wet cold clothes. His eyes opened and looked into mine. I was shivering, my teeth were chattering. Michael swore under his breath and sat up dragging me into his arms.

“What happened?” He demanded.

I lay my head against his warm bare chest and closed my eyes. I didn’t want to answer that question. I just wanted to be next to Michael. His hands swept over my body checking for any signs of injuries,

“Are you hurt?” He asked urgently.

I didn’t respond.

“Are you injured?” He asked again.

I didn’t respond.

“Answer me!” Michael gave me a little shake and finally gave an answer.


Michael heaved a breath of relief and wrapped his arms around me pulling me close against his body.

“Then what the hell happened?” He asked.

“Micah.” I said softly.

Michael tensed then looked down at me gently framing my face with his hands.

“Did he hurt you?” He asked.

I shook my head,

“No, he took me for coffee.”

Michael raised his eyebrows, “Coffee?”

I know it didn’t sound sinister and maybe I was over reacting but the way Micah just knew where I was and casually strolled up to me really shook me up. Micah was a murderer. What was to stop him from waltzing into here and killing me or worse Michael? I buried my face back into Michael’s chest agonizing over what could happen to the pair of us. Calmly Michael tries to reassure me and patiently extracts an account of the whole ordeal. By the time I have finished Michael’s face has hardened completely, his eyes brewing with hate towards the man who threatened me. Struggling to suppress his rage he gets out of bed,

“Stay here and take those wet clothes off.” He orders.

I jump up with supernatural speed grabbing his arm, “Michael, please, stay here, stay with me.” I begged.

Michael forces a smile and lightly kisses my lips, “I’m not going anywhere far.”

“I know you’re mad but please don’t go running after Micah and his pack of monsters. If you got hurt I don’t think I could…” my voice began to crack as tears ran down my face.

“I’m not going to go running after Micah.” Michael said.

I knew he was lying, I could sense it in his voice. He wanted to have it out with Micah and I was afraid he would lose because he was blinded by emotion. The all-consuming feeling of protectiveness towards our mate sometimes interfered with our better judgement and I feared that if I were to let Michael leave this room then I may never see him again. There was only one other instinct that rivalled the desire to protect our mate, and that was to be with our mate. As Keira had once told me we can use our bodies to control and manipulate our lover.

Still holding firmly onto Michael’s arm I lowered my lashes and bit my lip. I caught his gaze with mine and held it. I could feel the tension between us like a flame flickering and all I had to do was make that flame explode. Inching closer I allowed my grip on his arm to slacken, I knew he wouldn’t bolt, to put it simply- he couldn’t. I was holding him with my eyes and he stared transfixed on me like a snake being charmed. Holding his eyes with mine I allowed my fingers to trace the contours of muscles on his arms, letting my finger nails lightly scratch against his skin. Michael’s attention was diverting away from Micah on to me- wet, cold, shivering and vulnerable me.

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