27. An Animal

27

An Animal

M aybe I didn't care much about escaping before. Maybe Cameron's wolfy voodoo numbed my brain and made me ignore the viable escape plan sitting right in front of me.

The window.

Of course, it's locked, but I know how to open it. Even as a bullied teenager, I'd had my fair share of breaking out of my bedroom window. Okay, I did it once, but that's enough to remember how to unscrew the latch to break free.

The memory from high school when Jack begged me to sneak out to join him at the country concert at the local pub floods my brain. Jack was my best friend. It was normal for him to ask me to hang out, but never at night. I'd been so excited to spend time with him that I didn't even care if I got caught. Thankfully, I got out my window and to the concert without a hitch, but I probably should have just stayed home. It wasn't the romantic night alone with Jack I had envisioned. I ended up in the back of his truck, squeezed between two other football players who were drunk and smelled like a urinal.

It's not like Granny didn't trust me and thought I'd sneak out. She was just paranoid and made sure the windows couldn't be opened from the outside, which ultimately made them unable to open from the inside. I wonder what Granny truly worried about crawling through my window. I guess it doesn't matter now because even with all of Granny's protectiveness, I'm still captured by the beast she feared, but it won't stay that way because I'm getting the hell out of here.

I'd hoped Cameron would have a drawer filled with bobby pins left over from past lovers. Okay, maybe I didn't hope for that. For some reason, the thought of Cameron fucking somebody bubbles my stomach acid, but bobby pins would make my escape much easier. Luckily for me, I found a nail filer in his bedside drawer.

I wait until the dead of night. I'm still unsure if Cameron's nocturnal, but I make my move when I don't hear him stirring for several hours. It's like riding a bicycle—all those tutorial videos from years before overriding my brain.

The last screw falls to the window pane, and I take a deep breath before pulling the window open. It's been shut for some time because an ear-piercing screech sounds as it slides to the top. My heart hammers in my chest, and I freeze, waiting to hear Cameron's footsteps outside my door. Everything remains silent, and before I can chicken out, I catapult myself out of the room and into the night air. I stumble onto the ground but jump to my feet, running without any idea where I'm heading. I know it's a stupid plan to run through woods filled with werewolves with no sense of direction, but it's the only one I got, and I'm not just going to wait like a sitting duck before the werewolves decide to kill me or use me as bait to hurt Jack.

The cicadas sing around me like tiny alarms, heightening the urgency pumping through my veins. Trees whip past my line of vision, some smacking me in the face as I push through. My pulse mellows when I've created some distance between Cameron's house, but then a howl sounds from somewhere behind me. I look back but don't see anything. Somehow, this unnerves me even more.

I keep running, ignoring when my T-shirt snags on a branch, nearly ripping it off my body. The howl comes again, this time closer. Maybe it's just a regular wolf. There must be regular wolves in this forest. But what if there are no such things as regular wolves, and all I've been seeing my whole life are transformed werewolves? I shake my head to rid the thought. It won't help me now.

Footsteps—or should I say paw-steps—come from behind the trees next to me. Whatever it is—it's gaining on me. A scream lodges its way in the back of my throat. I increase my speed and force myself to continue focusing on the jagged path before me, but it's no use—something pounces, tackling me to the ground.

Who am I kidding? I knew it was Cameron even before I turned around from underneath him and met his glowing amber eyes. It's like I can smell him. He should cut back on whatever cologne he's wearing, or he will have a harder time sneaking up on people.

Even though it's futile, I don't give up my fight and pound against his chest. He growls at me and grabs my hands—pinning them to the ground above my head.

"This again? God, you're so predictable," I say between clenched teeth, still trying to worm free from his grasp.

"I could say the same about you," he replies cooly.

"What's the end game to all this, huh? Why are you keeping me here? What is it going to take to let me go?"

"You need to stay until the end of the Blood Moon. My people are just and fair, but if they catch the prisoner that escaped leading up to the Blood Moon, it might not be as civilized."

"Then put me on a plane to New York. I'll leave this fucking town if you just let me go." I don't know if I believe my words. Could I really leave Granny or Jack without a proper goodbye?

The moonlight from overhead illuminates Cameron's shadowed features. He's shirtless, and it takes everything in me not to let my eyes wander past his neck. He's still human, but barely. His facial hair is completely out of control. His teeth have a little more of an edge to them, and his ears seem larger. I should be terrified of him, but for some reason, I want to fight—to see what he'll do when he loses control. I watch as his face shows the thoughts wrestling around in his head. I wait for a quick response as to why my plan won't work either. When one doesn't come, I realize he doesn't have one.

"Well?" I whisper, my breath suddenly heavy.

"I can't let you go." He shakes his head, not leaving my gaze.

His touch sears into my arm, and I'm suddenly aware of every inch of his body looming over me. He moves down, his lips just inches from my own.

"Why?" My eyelids droop.

He leans to my ear. "You know why." He growls .

And even though I have no fucking idea what he's talking about, my body sure does. Every cell ignites within me. All the anger and hatred toward him dissipates in an instant. It's like some primal creature inside me doesn't see him as a monster but as the answer to my every desire. I can't stop the moan that escapes my lips as I lift my body off the ground and press myself against him. The moment I touch him, his grip tightens, and he presses me down into the earth with his weight. His length rubs against me, and he doesn't make any attempts to hide it—he just grinds harder into my abdomen.

"You can't leave," he whispers, his lips hovering over mine.

"I'm here," I whisper back before straining my neck to capture his lips. His mouth devours mine—his tongue sliding between my lips, filling me.

I buck against him, feeling desperate to have his hands on my body, and it's like he can read my mind because he lets go of my wrists, bringing one hand down to my chest and the other he uses to cup my ass. The second my hands are free, I cling to him, wanting to explore the valleys and hills that run down his abdomen—to venture below his waist, but he's pressed so tight against me that all I can do is run my hands down his back.

He drops me to the ground, lifting himself and creating space between us. His hand runs down my side until it meets the waistband of my shorts, sliding underneath. "I've been waiting to get these off you the moment I saw you in that cage. I can smell him on you. Fucking smell him. Do you know how fucking feral that makes me?" His finger grazes my cunt, and I shutter. "I bet he can't make you this wet. You're already gushing for me."

His words turn my insides to liquid, and I can feel myself dripping down my thighs—down Cameron's fingers. He pulls his hand away from me, and I gasp. "Please," I beg.

He brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking and licking them clean.

I moan.

"God, you taste so fucking good." His eyes nearly roll to the back of his head.

"Cameron, I need…" I can't get the words out. I buck against him, needing the friction from his fingers, his body, his dick, any part of him at this point.

"Shhh, I know what you need." He brings his hand back to my core, sliding his finger through me.

"Yes," I yell, the pleasure starting from my toes and bubbling through me.

He inserts a finger inside of me, and I cry out. He smashes his lips against mine, and as he inserts another finger into me, I moan into him. "You feel so good," he says into my mouth. "So perfect and tight." He removes his fingers, running them up and down, growing higher every swipe, until he hits my clit.

I buck against his hand.

"So responsive." He hums and circles my sensitive bud.

"Cameron, I'm gonna…"

"Come. You're going to come hard for me, aren't you? Be a good girl, and come on my hand."

It's like his words caress every inch of me. A flower blooms inside of me, starting out light and small and bursting into a ray of bright colors. I claw at Cameron's back as I cry out, grinding against his hand. I'm not completely in my right mind, but I swear the ground shakes from underneath me.

Cameron moans into my ear, loud and forceful, as if my pleasure is as much his. He doesn't stop until my body slackens.

"Fuck, Red."

I don't let go of him. Even though my orgasm passed through me, I'm not satisfied. I'm ready to be devoured fully by this werewolf, but he pulls away from me, rising to his knees. He twists his body, his hands exploring his back.

Even though it's dark, I can see the red gashes across his back. I look down at my hands, blood dripping down my fingers.

"What the fuck?" I rise to my knees, moving closer to examine him. It's obvious from the blood on my hands that I'm the one to cause these wounds, but as I gaze upon the large gashes, it's clear that they couldn't be made by a human. No—an animal did this.