Nova woke slowly, exhaustion clinging to her like the heavy blanket wrapped around her. A deep, gnawing ache rumbled in her gut, demanding attention. Her body had clearly drained every last bit of energy, and now it was begging to be replenished. As her senses sharpened, she realized her breathing was easier, and the sharp edge of her pain had dulled. The musty scent of the shack surrounded her again, unchanged. Light streamed through the cracks in the walls, casting slanted beams across the same rough wood and dirt floor. The fire in the center of the room burned steadily, radiating warmth.

Then came the scent. Rich. Savory. Meat.

Her stomach clenched, a sharp growl shattering the silence. The scent of smoke and salt filled her nose, and her mouth watered instantly. She pushed herself up, scanning the room…alone, again. But then her eyes landed on them: several rabbits, strung up on a rough wooden rack near the wall, tantalizingly close. She didn’t think—she just moved. Nova grabbed the closest one and tore into it, juices running down her chin. The taste hit instantly: smoky, salty, rich. A wave of relief shuddered through her as she devoured the first, then another, filling the gnawing void inside her. She was licking her fingers clean when the door creaked open.

She tensed, then slowly turned.

He stood in the doorway. The world seemed to stop, the only sound the crackle of the fire and the echo of her own breath. Their eyes met and the silence stretched between them, thick and heavy. Nova swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of the warmth of the fire at her back, the lingering taste of smoke and salt on her tongue. Her hands hovered near her mouth, fingers still slick with grease. He stood just inside the doorway, his broad frame blocking the light behind him. His eyes, dark and unreadable, flickered to the half-eaten rabbit in her grasp, then back to her face. Her muscles tensed instinctively, and she fought the urge to wipe her mouth, to appear more composed. As if she could hide the primal hunger that had driven her only moments before.

His presence filled the space in a way that made her uneasy. She knew she should say something, do something, but all she could do was stare back, breathing through the tension wrapping tight around her ribs. Then he moved, slow, deliberate. Not towards her, but past her. His boots scraped softly against the dirt floor as he stepped to the rack, inspecting what was left of the rabbits. He pulled one free, turning it over in his hands before sitting down with it near the fire.

The rich smell wafted in the air, and her stomach rumbled traitorously, despite the food she’d just devoured. His gaze flicked toward her again.

"You eat like a savage."

Nova bristled at the comment, her back straightening instinctively. "I was hungry." Something flickered in his expression, amusement maybe, but it was gone before she could be sure. "I noticed."

She scowled, shifting in place. "You left."

"You were asleep," he said.

He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck as if debating his response. Then he dropped his hand, leveling her with a look so direct it nearly pinned her in place. "I never should have stayed."

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Nova wasn’t sure why, but the response upset her. A hot flare of anger lit in her chest. "No one asked you to."

His jaw tensed slightly, but he said nothing. Instead, he turned back to the fire, crouching beside it. His movements were controlled, unhurried, as if her presence didn’t affect him in the slightest. As if nothing had happened between them at all.

Her hands curled into fists. She studied him, his features, the taut lines of his shoulders. He looked both at ease and impossibly tense at the same time.

Finally, she broke the silence. "Who are you?"

He didn’t look up right away. Instead, he poked at the fire, the embers flaring briefly in the dim light. When he finally spoke, his voice was even. “A mistake.” He said.

Nova frowned. He said it so matter-of-factly, so devoid of emotion, as if he’d long accepted it.

“That’s not an answer,” she snapped.

His gaze slid to hers, his eyes deep and unreadable. “It’s the only one that matters.”

She was livid. He had rescued her, dragged her here, bandaged her wounds, claimed her, and yet now he was pushing her away? A mistake?

She knew what she felt last night, what she still felt. He was not a mistake.

“Idiot,” she said loud enough for him to hear. He stilled, his knuckles turning white as he clenched them against his knee. She knew she’d struck a nerve, but instead of responding, he stood, and started making his way for the door. “Get some rest,” he said.

No. He wasn’t going to walk away from her.

"What are you so fucking afraid of?"

The words lashed out before she could stop them, cutting through the air like a blade.

He slammed his fist against the wall. The entire shack shuddered from the impact. The firelight cast sharp shadows over his face, highlighting the storm raging beneath his surface. He gave her a dark look before turning back and reaching for the door handle, but Nova leapt up and grabbed his other wrist stopping him.

She barely had time to react before he was on her.

He twisted his hand, breaking free of her grip, only to catch her wrist instead. The movement was swift, almost violent, and then, he yanked her forward. Her breath hitched and the space between them vanished, his mouth crashing into hers.

It wasn’t soft or gentle or loving. It was angry and desperate, full of frustration and fire and the war he was waging within himself. His grip tightened, as if holding onto her grounded him. His other hand found her waist, pulling her in closer.

Nova gasped against him, but he didn’t relent. He devoured her, every breath, every sound, every ounce of resistance she might have had, as if he was trying to punish her for holding him here.

Then suddenly, he pushed her back, slamming her against the wooden wall.

The air left her lungs.

He braced his arms on either side of her, his forehead pressing against hers. His breath was ragged, his body rigid, every muscle locked in place. His fingers twitched against the wood beside her head and exhaled sharply, his breath warm against her lips.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for," he growled.

She reached up, brushing her fingers against his jaw. He tensed but didn’t pull away.

"I know exactly what I’m asking for," she whispered.

His chest rose and fell, his restraint hanging by a thread.

Then, with a curse, he shoved himself away from her and stormed toward the door.

This time, she let him go.