His Worst Behavior

Chapter Fifteen

Who is currently your favorite character?

Should Chloe fight for her freedom or give Roarke a chance?

How do you predict this story will end?

                                                        ~ Lissa

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CHAPTER FIFTEEN - CRAVINGS

The next day, I experienced symptoms.

I stumbled to the kitchen with my stomach growling. Roarke followed me, carefully watching me, almost as if he was afraid that I would break any moment. In the kitchen, Maurice was pulling a pan of chocolate muffins out of the oven, humming. The smell was incredible, seeming stronger, to the point that it overwhelmed my senses.

Maurice looked at me. "Hello, hun."

I didn't respond - my thoughts were focused on food. I walked over to the cabinet, reaching inside and grabbing the first thing that I saw. A jar of peanut butter. Maurice watched with a confused expression as I snatched a spoon and began to eat spoonfuls of peanut butter.

She hesitated. "I have leftover pasta. Do you want some of that?"

"Yeah," I said, frantically licking my spoon. "And, some of that garlic bread." She shifted her attention to Roarke, searching for approval. I witnessed Roarke give a simple nod from the corner of my eye. As Maurice heated up the meal, I continued to clean out the peanut butter jar, feeling Roarke's gaze on me.

"I'm so hungry," I groaned, frustrated with how slow the peanut butter was going down. 

"You're having cravings," Roarke told me, his eyebrows pinched together. "This is good. This means your body is adjusting to the changes."

I was sure if I was relieved or disappointed. "Oh."

Maurice placed a bowl of leftover pasta in front of me, accompanied by two slices of garlic bread. I immediately ditched the peanut butter, inhaling the pasta as if my life depended on it. I was hardly chewing; I was surprised that I hadn't choked. I wasn't even tasting the delicious food because of how fast it was going down.

Maurice raised an eyebrow. "I've never seen her eat so much."

"Yeah," Roarke said, watching me. "But, it's not what she's craving. None of this will satisfy her for long." 

His words caught my attention. "What?"

Roarke rolled his shoulders, then walked over to the refrigerator. Still inhaling the pasta, I watched him with skeptical eyes. He pulled out a tray of his leftover steak, along with sausage from breakfast that morning. My nostrils flared when my eyes centered on the meat. My stomach growled louder, despite currently being filled.

The corners of his lips quirked upwards at my reaction. "You're craving meat."

He stepped closer to me, lifting the meat towards my nose. A wave of hunger washed through me. My tastebuds tingled at the thought of meat on my tongue. 

With the little restraint I had, I took a step backwards. "Get that away from me." He remained standing there, the meat extended to me. "I said, get that away from me!"

"You're becoming a werewolf now," Roarke said, calmly. "You're developing characteristics of a wolf, such as the need for meat. The need to hunt. A wolf with a hungry, particular appetite is coming forward in you. Your eating habits will have to change."