The Song Of The Wolf (Unedited)

Chapter Eighteen

When Maebh awoke, everything was a blur. It took a few moments to adjust to the harsh transition of dark to light. Soon, all peaks of sunlight were eliminated, blocked out by thick curtains until only the the flames of the hearth's fire burned –flickering gentle enough to not bother her retinas.

She was alive.

It was a sense of victory that only lasted a very limited amount of time because with complete horror, Maebh noted a warm body pressed flush against her own. What was worrying to an even greater extent was the lack of fabric between her skin and that of the person currently spooning her. If anything, the bulge pressing into her bottom was an indication of the gender.

She squeaked and abruptly distanced herself by jumping out of bed. This proved to be futile as she had to grit her teeth to keep from crying out. Sharp pain laced through her head and colourful spots clouded her vision, it felt like her whole body had been beaten and every movement caused some muscle or bone to ache.

Unable to stand up, she crawled away from the bed and sank into a seated position against the wall. Detecting a velvet throw that had been carelessly tossed aside, she rapidly wrapped it around her bare form.

It was then that Maebh beheld two things.

One, she was at the castle, in the tower room, the one Hèmène claimed was intended for her and where she'd spent many hours hiding away.

Two, Fillin was laid atop her mattress, his naked physique scarcely concealed by a duvet. Miraculously enough, his slumber did not give the impression of having been disturbed. Her little episode had gone by unnoticed; his perfectly sculptured chest rose with every inhale, gentle sighs leaving his mouth.

Regardless of how badly Maebh wanted to despise the sight of him, she couldn't. It was conflicting how naive and perhaps ignorant the heart could be. Earlier, the man had attempted to literally chase her to her death, still, the damned muscular organ started beating out of control at a mere glimpse of him and went: I want thát one. She couldn't possibly give in to its foolish whims, but simultaneously, she wanted to. The heart didn't care.

She tilted her head back, trying to get a deep breath in, feeling absolutely suffocated, as if she hadn't gotten in a lungful of air in weeks. Which was probably to blame on the car accident.

At the memory of plummeting herself and her trusty truck into a glacial lake, she glared at Fillin's sleeping face. It was all his fault. With his stupid eyes, stupid body and the stupid scar crossing his eyebrow that made him all the more of a stupid knockout. Stupidly attractive man.

A hoarse groan resounded, startling Maebh and gluing her in place. A pang of heat whizzed up her stomach as Fillin's herculean arm reached out beside him, blatantly looking for something; her. Perceiving that his search was in vain, he immediately sat upright and threw the duvet off of him.

"Please cover yourself!"

With a hand pressed to the upper side of her face, Maebh tried to extrude the image of his exposed manhood –not wanting her yearning for him to spiral. A rustling noise was heard and she assumed that was him, doing as she asked for once. Carefully removing her hand, she got back on her feet –though not without pain or difficulty as she tightly clutched the throw and leant against the wall for support.

Dressed in simple chinos and a jumper, Fillin stood observing her. Calculatingly, inaudibly and threateningly –like a predator she now was cognisant of. He was a big bad wolf preying on the innocent.

"Why did you- why were we-"

"Hypothermia."

It was the oldest trick in the book and she understood the skin to skin contact had helped to increase her body temperature.