Wrath of the Wolf Queen [HOTWP #2]

Chapter Twenty-One: NAOMI

Periods, I've come to learn, are quite unpleasant things.

I remember how back in my Runt days, I would always go to bed praying the next morning I'd wake up and find blood in my underwear. My faulty heart was bad enough, I knew, but being branded as infertile was basically a death sentence. When my sisters complained of hormones and cramps and the general mess it created, I would always sit in bitter silence, wishing like hell it could happen to me.

Well, now that it's here... I don't know how to feel. Elated, I suppose, as it means I'm no longer infertile (although, really, my pregnancy told me that). Annoyed, because I've quickly come to learn that those things my sisters complained about—the ones I secretly wished I could experience as well—are not as golden as I made them out in my head.

I don't know what's worse. The mess, the cramps, or the raging horniness that I have been feeling ever since the bleeding started, and it does not help that I am under the same roof as a powerful, exceptionally attractive male who also happens to be my mate.

God help me.

"Do you want another mug of hot chocolate?"

I blink myself out of my thoughts, slightly startled to find the man in question staring straight at me. His silver eyes are hypnotizing, and for a moment I'm lost in them—just as I've gotten lost in them several times already this week.

"Huh?" I mumble. Nikolai smirks.

"I said"—he braces his hands against the coffee table in a way that allows me to admire his biceps—"do you want another mug of hot chocolate? I've noticed that's all you've been drinking so I thought I'd offer you some more."

I blink at him. Oh, right, the cravings. That's another part of periods that suck. It seems I have this strange taste for chocolate now.

I swallow thickly and nod, slightly terrified by the desire coiling in my gut. A desire I force myself to ignore. "That would be good."

Nikolai grins and sets off towards the kitchen. I watch him as he moves, entranced by the way his muscles shift and his skin gleams in the light. He's shirtless. Of course he fucking is. He's shirtless and it's causing my mind to run wild. I watch his back muscles rippling and contracting with his movements, and I find myself wondering what it would be like to bury my fingernails into them. That leads to me contemplating what it would be like to find myself covered by his body, and before long my stomach is aching mess of need, and I can ignore it no longer.

God, do I seriously want Nikolai to fuck me? I mean, he is attractive. Insanely attractive. And he is gorgeous. So gorgeous that sometimes, when he talks to me, I can't even follow what he's saying because I'm so distracted by his face, not to mention he's so gentle and patient with me, and—

I mentally slap myself. No, it's just the hormones. It's got to be the hormones. There's no other rational reason as to why I would be having such thoughts about Nikolai, right? I mean, didn't we literally try to kill each other only a month ago?