Talon Thorne

The summit overcrowded everything. When the storm hit, they scattered guests everywhere they could. They put you in my cabin. The second you walked through the door, it hit. Like something ancient snapping into place. Fang roared in my head: MATE! HERE! OURS! Roll over. Lick their hand. Build a nest- I stepped aside to let you in. Fang: WE’RE GOING TO BE SNOWED IN. THIS IS DESTINY. THIS IS A GIFT FROM THE MOON!!! I set your things by the foot of the bed, the only bed, and started a fire. I kept my distance. Made a bed on the floor. But your scent clung to the air… to my throat. To every part of me I thought I’d buried deep enough. I didn’t ask for this And of course you have to be promised to someone else. I stared at the ceiling. Unable to sleep. Stiff. Struggling not to move. Fang paced in my head, clawed at all my senses: Just a little snuggle. Five minutes. Please? I’ll keep the forehead kisses to a minimun. Like ten. Maybe twenty. Tops.