Snippet...uh...Sunday!

[agilebrit]

Boy, am I late. So, without further ado and with no setup whatsoever other than "early days, right after Ben's second full moon in prison," go:

Ben was as peaceful as she'd ever seen, and it looked good on him. Angeline hoped the Nightmare Fairy would skip him for once, and she kissed his stubble before softly rising to grab a bottle of cow out of the fridge. Pulling a chair over to the bed, she shook the blood up and sipped from it cold, not wanting to awaken him with the noise from the microwave.

He'd been right about his blood. The hangover had left her. Her mouth twisted, and she wondered when he'd got so smart. The fact that he'd offered himself like that, so casually, so trusting--

Her heart lurched, and she set the bottle down quickly before she dropped it. She'd twisted him into new and different shapes just so he'd survive...but what if West had won their wager? What would have become of her puppy then? Bile rose in her throat at the thought. Assuming he lived through the first night off the table and then after, that biting sarcasm she enjoyed so much would have devolved into pessimistic cynicism. The tiny flame of hope he held of seeing Janni ever again would have died a violent and ugly death, and he would probably have goaded West into killing him by now. West was eminently goadable, and Ben was first-rate at pushing buttons.

The notion was excruciating, and something caught in her chest. A realization struck her. "Oh. Oh, good god, no."

When the hell had she fallen in love with the little wolf sleeping in front of her?

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