The Bitten.

Willow.

Aamon's face was so intense that I almost shied away. His mouth was open, canines glistening above my face as he gazed down at me. His breathing was ragged, louder than his drumming heart. He snatched my chin and I winced. My face was so sore, but I think he had forgotten about it. He held me like he was preparing for interrogation.

"You mean this?"

"I mean it."

"You swear it to me?"

"I swear." I was nervous, I felt like he didn't believe me. Aamon could be unpredictable when he felt you were lying and I was already trembling from anticipating his reaction. Maybe I was wrong in my choice of words. Maybe it was too soon. Maybe-
He softened his grip on my face and kissed my forehead. It was feather light, but full of emotion. His hands never leaving my face.

"I love you too, Fawn."

"Really?" I understood that he had to feel someway about me to go through so much suffering for us to be, but it was surreal to me to think that someone like Aamon could love me. He was so strong and handsome, so crafty. I couldn't understand how he could find someone so ignorant of his world, sensitive and useless as myself worthy. He had killed that she wolf that everyone seemed to dote on, yet I was allowed to live. To keep him and have his love. It was puzzling still. He studied me, head tilting to take in my reaction to him.

"I always found myself not lovable, I guess you find yourself the same? We are more alike than you think. It's a dream, but here we are. We are loved, Fawn."

"You're right..." My mind was still dizzy.

"If you've had your fill of water, do you say we go home and get you tended? Wounded, and by a water source is a bad place to be. I can't do much here."

"Yes. I'd like that. My face hurts the more I move it." The skin had tightened, pulling at the exposed areas, a sign of this new inhuman healing I guessed.

Aamon stood us up, positioning me in his arms to continue carrying me the way home. Aamon put his forehead to mine as he walked, lingering for a moment before licking my face thoroughly. His mouth, his touch, his grooming that had once turned my stomach now soothed me like a warm glass of tea. With him holding me, the motions and sounds of the eerie woods around us disappeared. Even the pain in my face dulled.

"You can just carry me all the time if you'd like. I might never walk again." Aamon gave me a light chuckle, that didn't reach his eyes.

"If you stay this nice from now on, I'd never put you down." His eyes seemed distant, and fretted over my earlier confession. I never could tolerate silence, so I had to disturb it.

"Are you worried?"

"I am, Fawn. You'll find I worry a lot now."

"I'm sorry I-"

"No. It is good. Before, I had no worry. I didn't care about much but my own hide and hunger. Now, I have you. Now there's something worth worry, worth troubles. More important than my hide or my stomach."

Aamon stopped shortly of the clearing near our home, pulling an unusual face. I quickly picked up a scent from our newfound company. Aamon looked to the canopy of tree tops fading overhead for strength, before reluctantly edging near the cabin. He shook his head and huffed through his nose, nostrils flaring like an angry horse. Whoever was there, he had mixed emotions about. I wanted to know who she was.

"Night be damned!"

"Who's there, Aamon?" For Aamon to be this flustered, they could only be dangerous or troublesome.

"A wretch that has broken into our home without invitation. Yes, that is Willow. This explains why we did not see her at Luthor's."

"I've heard good things about her. I'msure we will be fine-"