Claimed By The Possessive Silver Wolf

Caleb stared at the bloody meat in his hand, then at Cora's pale face. He looked genuinely confused. "Raw meat has the most energy," he explained, as if speaking to a child. "It makes you strong." "I don't care about energy," Cora said, her stomach cramping at the thought of swallowing that. "My tribe... we cook our meat. Completely. Until there's no pink left." Caleb's expression softened slightly. "Tribe." He assumed she meant some weak, distant village. "I will cook it." He put the meat back over the fire. He held it there, watching the flames. The fat sizzled and popped. The outside began to blacken and char. Ten minutes passed. The meat was now a shriveled, blackened husk. Smoke curled off it. Caleb pulled it from the fire and offered it to her again. "Cooked." Cora looked at the lump of charcoal. It was a sweet gesture, in a very primitive way. She couldn't reject it twice. She took the heavy stick from him. She opened her mouth and bit into the blackened crust. Her teeth scraped against something that felt like a tire tread. The outside was bitter and crumbly, tasting of ash. The inside was still tough, a chewy, rubbery mass. She tried to tear a piece off with her teeth. The meat resisted. She pulled harder, grinding her teeth against the sinew. A sharp, agonizing pain shot through her gums. "Hssst!" Cora dropped the meat on the fur rug and clutched her cheek. A tear leaked out of the corner of her eye. Her gums were bleeding; the tough meat had scraped the soft tissue raw. Caleb was on his knees in front of her in an instant. He knocked the meat away, his hands hovering over her face, frantic. "What is it? Where are you hurt?" His voice was tight with panic. "My tooth," Cora whimpered, pressing her palm against her jaw. "It's too hard. It hurts." Caleb looked at her bleeding gum, then at the discarded lump of meat. His face fell. The panic was replaced by a crushing guilt. He picked up the blackened meat and hurled it across the room. It hit the stone wall with a wet smack. "I am useless," he growled, his head dropping. He looked like a giant dog who had just been scolded for chewing a shoe. "I cannot even feed my mate." Cora looked at him, her pain momentarily forgotten. This man-this beast who had killed a monster with his bare hands and terrified an entire tribe-was sulking because he made bad barbecue. "It's okay," she said softly. She reached out and patted his muscular arm. "It's not your fault. I'm just... delicate. The berries were delicious." Caleb lifted his head. His eyes were intense. He grabbed her hand that was resting on his arm, holding it tightly. "Tomorrow," he said, his voice low and fierce. "I will go deep into the forest. I will find the softest meat. The sweetest fruit. I will not fail you again." Cora couldn't help but smile. "Okay." Her stomach growled again, unsatisfied by the few berries. The sun had set outside. The two moons were rising, casting a silver and red glow through the smoke hole. The fire crackled warmly. Cora looked down at herself. She was covered in dirt, dried sweat, and blood. Her clothes were torn. She felt grimy and disgusting. She remembered seeing a stream on the way up the mountain. "I want to take a bath," she said, standing up. Caleb stood up immediately. He grabbed a thick, white fur from the bed. "I will come with you. The forest at night is dangerous." Cora looked at his naked chest, then at the fur in his hands, imagining herself bathing while this giant watched. Her face burned. "That's... not necessary," she stammered. "It is," he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.