Here's a Little Taste Hex...
Maeve wrenched open the door, the hinges barely surviving the violent movement, only to be brought up short by the scene in front of her.
There was Bishop, in all his shifted werewolf glory, bronze fur bristled high as he growled with menace at …
“Is that a squirrel?”
Lucian’s voice spun her around and she saw he was leaning casually against the doorframe, eating a bowl of cereal. Maeve opened and closed her mouth, unsure what to say. Because her lover was indeed in some strange standoff with a small, furry animal. One, who instead of running in fear from the enormous apex predator, was standing on its hind legs reprimanding the angry wolf.
“And I thought dying and turning into a mythical creature was the weirdest thing I would ever see,” she murmured, unable to take her gaze from the tableau in front of her.
Bishop again rumbled deep in his throat and this time Maeve noticed the slight arching of his back and bunching shoulders – both indicators he might be about to pounce. Feeling a surge of protective panic, she moved at a speed only a hybrid could be capable of, positioning herself as bodyguard.
“Fun-sponge,” Lucian smirked around a mouthful of cereal. “This was just about to get interesting; breakfast and a show.”
“Interesting?” Maeve was aghast. “Letting Bishop attack a defenceless little forest creature is considered interesting to you?”
“He wouldn’t hurt it … I don’t think.”
Here's a Little Taste Hex...
Maeve wrenched open the door, the hinges barely surviving the violent movement, only to be brought up short by the scene in front of her.
There was Bishop, in all his shifted werewolf glory, bronze fur bristled high as he growled with menace at …
“Is that a squirrel?”
Lucian’s voice spun her around and she saw he was leaning casually against the doorframe, eating a bowl of cereal. Maeve opened and closed her mouth, unsure what to say. Because her lover was indeed in some strange standoff with a small, furry animal. One, who instead of running in fear from the enormous apex predator, was standing on its hind legs reprimanding the angry wolf.
“And I thought dying and turning into a mythical creature was the weirdest thing I would ever see,” she murmured, unable to take her gaze from the tableau in front of her.
Bishop again rumbled deep in his throat and this time Maeve noticed the slight arching of his back and bunching shoulders – both indicators he might be about to pounce. Feeling a surge of protective panic, she moved at a speed only a hybrid could be capable of, positioning herself as bodyguard.
“Fun-sponge,” Lucian smirked around a mouthful of cereal. “This was just about to get interesting; breakfast and a show.”
“Interesting?” Maeve was aghast. “Letting Bishop attack a defenceless little forest creature is considered interesting to you?”
“He wouldn’t hurt it … I don’t think.”
