Hunt Me! I Crave the Chase (Spooky Boys #3)

This meal was a prime example of that.

Wolves provided for one another. It was our way. Not that I’d been all that good at doing that for my brothers lately. Not when my focus was divided.

It wasn’t fair that he couldn’t be my mate.

And it hurt.

It hurt because I knew, without a doubt in my mind, that I wasn’t going to make it to my twentieth birthday—to the mating ceremony my Dad was planning. That was a choice I could no longer make. Not when I knew what Jeffrey felt like. Not now that I’d cradled his heart in my hand. Not after holding him through his nightmares and hearing what he’d been through.

I had…maybe one moon left—two, if I was being optimistic.

And then I’d be…

I’d be…

“Hey,” Jeffrey’s voice was quiet, soft. The scent of cheese filled the air, the plate he was pushing toward me piled high with slices. The cheese melded them together, but I didn’t mind, ravenous as I always was after the moon. I knew I didn’t look my best. That I was emaciated. That my ribs were showing and my eyes were sunken.

I’d looked this way when we’d first met too—but I’d been in my wolfskin, and the fur had covered some of the imperfections.

Now there was nothing to hide behind. The clothes covered up the worst of my still healing wounds, but there was no denying that I had been through hell—and Jeffrey could see that.

He pulled a chair out next to mine, sliding into it, and offering me the plate of pizza again, brow cocked expectantly. I took the plate but set it on the table, suddenly not sure if I could stomach a single bite, even though my stomach was an empty cavern.

I’d had pizza a few times, courtesy of Harry and something he called “door dish” or something like that. It was delicious. I loved it. But I just…

I just…wanted Jeffrey.

Simple as that.

It was the second kind of hunger that plagued me at the moment, not the first.

“You okay?” Jeffrey’s hand was warm. Calloused. He cupped my cheek, and I bent into the pressure with a needy sigh. He scooted our chairs closer together, our knees bumping then sliding as our legs tangled.

He didn’t know.

He didn’t know what was happening.

And he wasn’t supposed to. He was never supposed to. I was supposed to be a happy memory—a lover that he could move on from. I wasn’t supposed to lose myself in him. I wasn’t supposed to do this to him.

He’d been hurt enough.

It wasn’t fair.

I hadn’t planned on telling him the truth.

But…I couldn’t lie to him either.

And I just…

I was so tired.

I couldn’t even muster the energy to smile.

“Mutt.” Jeffrey’s expression shuttered. And then he did something he’d never done before. He rose from his chair, and climbed into my lap, folding his long, muscular body across my thighs, his fingers still curled around my cheeks. His eyes were dark with concern, and so warm. So so warm. “What’s wrong, big guy?”

Of course he’d noticed how off I was.

Jeffrey was observant.