Shadow Touched: A Paranormal Vampire Romance (A Touch of Vampire Book 1) by Becky Moynihan (great reads TXT) 📕

you don’t fully change into a werewolf tonight, how will you explain your violent mood swings? Your incessant need to hunt and consume raw meat? Or your need for . . . other things.”

My breaths were now coming in quick bursts, my heart thundering inside my chest, because his words were starting to make sense. Memories of last night were coming back, memories of me touching Peyton and everything that happened after. I slapped a hand over my mouth as more and more memories poured in.

Nope. No way.

That didn’t happen. That didn’t happen either. And that definitely didn’t happen.

I didn’t freaking allow that. I didn’t. I couldn’t have.

“Freaking fates,” I groaned, shaking my head in disbelief. I had allowed Lochlan D’angelo to touch me intimately. And I had liked it. More than liked it. In fact, my body was warming in the worst of ways just remembering the details, how he had used a claw to—

Straightening my spine, I started to walk. I walked so that I couldn’t think. I walked so that Lochlan couldn’t see my flushed skin, so he couldn’t figure out that my body was still reacting to him.

The overgrown trail leading down the mountain wasn’t too steep, but I kept tripping anyway in my haste to create distance. I forced myself to speed walk and not sprint so I wouldn’t break my neck. Not that the distance would make any difference. He would pursue me as he always did, and it would only take him seconds with his vampire speed. I was stuck here until the werewolf inside me, or whatever it was, disappeared. And according to Lochlan, I had at least one more day of this, whatever this was.

And, fates help me, I was scared to death.

Scared of what tonight would bring. More of last night? More . . . urges? For him? For his touch, for the pleasure he wrung out of me, for the incredible way he made me feel? Yes. I knew I would want that. I could feel it underneath my skin, a need I couldn’t deny.

And so I continued to walk. To desperately clear my head and rid my thoughts of him. Of his face, his voice, his touch, his scent. Gah. I almost whipped his shirt over my head and chucked it into the woods. I couldn’t escape him!

Several minutes later, I reached the lake. Still no sign of a car. Sighing, I walked to the tip of the dock and sank onto its wooden planks. I would have stayed there all day—listening to the birds chirp, scenting the rich air and feeling the wind caress my skin with my newly heightened senses. I would have stayed despite the late autumn chill numbing my fingers and toes. But the hunger became too much. I knew what my body craved. I knew what that smell had been up at the cabin.

It was all I could think about now.

So, despite the other thing I would find in the cabin, I trekked back an hour later. I was officially a slave to my stomach. It didn’t care that we would have to face Lochlan again. My stomach only cared about the meal I had been depriving it of for far too long. The hike up left me dizzy and nauseous. My heart pounded too rapidly, my breaths too shallow. But I made it.

I found Lochlan inside, sitting at the kitchen’s breakfast nook I’d tracked with my nose. He hadn’t followed me to the lake, which surprised me. But I supposed he knew, just like he’d known last night, that I would eventually succumb to my carnal cravings.

I hated that he knew. Hated that I was giving in, yet again.

But the last of my resistance fled when I caught sight of it. A plate of rare, bloody steak sitting opposite Lochlan on the table—the scent that had woken me from sleep earlier. My stomach growled like an angry bear, and I could have sworn I heard Lochlan chuckle under his breath. My gaze refused to meet his though, and not because of last night. My eyes were fixed on the food and only the food. Nothing else mattered right now.

My stomach and throat were tight as I slid onto a kitchen chair in front of the loaded plate. There was a fork and knife on either side, and I picked them up with trembling fingers. Saliva pooled in my mouth when I cut into the steak, and I quickly sealed my lips shut so I wouldn’t drool. Raising the forkful of meat, I slowly placed it into my mouth. But when the taste exploded on my tongue, I lost control.

The cutlery clanged against the table as I grabbed the steak and viciously ripped into it. I lost track of time and place, my entire focus on devouring the fresh, tender meat. When I finished far too soon, I licked the juices from my fingers, savoring every last drop.

The sound of movement raised the hair on my arms. I froze, a growl sticking in my throat. My eyes flashed upward and latched onto Lochlan, whose direct, unflinching gaze forced my senses into high alert. My lips peeled back in a silent snarl, but he didn’t heed the warning. In fact, he seemed to be challenging me.

Refusing to look away, I held his gaze. And the longer I did, the brighter his eyes became. From black to wine red, they seared my retinas with their intensity. The breath stuttered from my lungs and I reached down to pinch my thigh. He was suddenly up out of his seat, his tall form looming over the table. I shot up too, unwilling to give an inch.

He slowly came around the side toward me, holding eye contact the entire time. The closer he came, the harder it was for me to bear the weight of his gaze. I finally relinquished a step, then another, stopping when the cold metal of a fridge pressed into my back. But I