Claimed By The Possessive Silver Wolf

Cora's heart skipped a beat. The word "mate" sounded so heavy, so permanent. Her cheeks flushed hot. She looked away, trying to hide her reaction. "I told you, I can't have kids," she muttered, falling back on her shield. "I'm barren." Caleb let out a low chuckle. The sound vibrated through his chest and into her body. "You think I can't tell when a female is lying?" Cora's head snapped back around. Her eyes widened. Cold sweat broke out on the back of her neck. He knew? He shifted her weight in his arms, freeing one hand. His large, calloused palm slid under her shirt and rested flat against her stomach. The touch was possessive, but gentle. "Your energy field is weak," he said, his thumb stroking her skin, "but it's pure. Full of life. It's not the dead, stagnant energy of a barren female." Cora let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. He was using some weird beast-man logic to judge her health. He didn't know about human biology or the fact that she was from another world. "Even if I could," she said, pushing his hand away, "I'm not having a baby with a wolf I just met." Caleb frowned. The crease between his brows deepened. "I am not just a wolf. I am Caleb. The strongest warrior." He started walking again, carrying her up the winding path. He seemed annoyed that she had reduced his identity to just his animal form. They rounded a bend, and a stone house came into view. It was built into the side of the cliff, half-cave, half-structure. Thick gray stones formed the walls, and heavy wooden stakes created a fence around a small yard. It was isolated, overlooking the valley below. Caleb kicked the heavy wooden door open. The smell of dry pine and woodsmoke washed over them. The interior was sparse. A massive stone slab dominated the center of the room, covered in thick, white furs. A fire pit sat in the middle of the floor, with a smoke hole directly above it. It was primitive, but surprisingly clean. He finally set her down. Her feet sank into the soft fur rug covering the floor. It was incredibly soft. Caleb walked over to the fire pit. He grabbed a piece of flint and struck it against a rock. Sparks flew, catching the dry tinder. Within moments, a warm fire crackled to life, pushing back the chill of the stone walls. He reached into the sack and pulled out a handful of the cloud berries. He walked over to a clay jug in the corner, poured water over them in a wooden bowl, washing them carefully. He brought the bowl to Cora, holding it out like an offering. His eyes were expectant, like a dog bringing a stick to its master. Cora realized she was starving. She took a berry and popped it into her mouth. It burst with sweet, tart juice, instantly quenching her thirst. "It's good," she said, her eyes lighting up. Caleb's face broke into a genuine smile. It transformed his harsh features, making him look almost boyish. He turned back to the sack and pulled out the leaf-wrapped bundle he had carved from the tiger's carcass at the trading post. He unwrapped the thick, blood-red slab and skewered it on a sharp stick, holding it over the fire. The flames licked the meat. The smell of roasting fat filled the room. But Caleb only held it there for two minutes. The outside had barely changed color; the inside was still cold and raw. Blood dripped into the fire, hissing. He pulled it out and held the dripping, barely seared meat toward Cora. "Eat." Cora looked at the bloody slab. Her stomach, which had been so happy a moment ago, churned violently. The smell of raw meat made her gag. "I..." She pressed a hand to her mouth, leaning back. "I don't eat raw meat."