Page 5 of Just One Bite

The girl from the hallway doesn’t though.

Her eyes instantly shoot to me, and I have to stop myself from getting closer.

Her heart stutters as I tilt my head and observe her.

There in the buzzing lights lining the path, I take in her full image.

The dark-brown hair that flows past her shoulders, and her bright eyes, uniquely beautiful, but it’s her lips I halt on—soft and pale pink.

“Hi, ladies.” Zant saunters closer to them. “Welcome to Doxlothia. Are we having fun?”

His mask is on and pieces of his black hair are curled next to his ears as he stands in front of her.

Something foreign twists in my stomach and zips up my spine.

I don’t want him near her. Zant’s a natural with women.

I guess I am too, but I’ve never wanted to keep one from him. Weird reaction, but okay.

“No. I don’t get this,” the little blonde one with pink-tipped hair says.

“The haunted maze is a cherished tradition passed down from the inception of this school. It symbolizes the founders and their journey to finding this spot for Doxlothia in the mountains. Now we just scare newcomers.”

“Seems cruel,” the taller blonde says from behind the others.

I said the same thing last year. If I ever do make council, that’s got to be one of the first things to change.

Zant moves closer, but the girl from the hallway keeps her eyes on me. It makes my skin itch—in a good way. My inner wolf rushes forward, and I step toward her till there’s only a foot or two between us. Closer.

Her lips don’t move, but it’s like I can hear a voice. Likely all me and my growing desire to know what her skin feels like.

As a hybrid, it takes more effort for me to get a read on the emotions of others.

Well, at least for me. Gavin introduced me to a hybrid upperclassman who wasn’t even an alpha but just really good at everything.

Smell. Blood drinking. I was a little jealous, but he had his dad to help him.

And mine’s a professional dick, so that was always out of the question.

“When you’re a second-year, you get the secret code to bypass the maze, or you can become a scarer. Plus, no harm will come to you here. Name’s Zant. I’m on the council, and I’m one of the nice ones.”

The shorter blonde with pink hair rolls her eyes.

“I told you my name. Will you tell me yours?” Zant asks, moving closer to her and twirling a piece of her hair.

“My name is Emma. Evangeline is the oldest—” She’s pointing to the other taller blonde one beside her when my girl stops her.

“You don’t need to tell him, Em.”

I swallow at the sound of her voice. What is wrong with me?

Zant smirks, and I feel his gaze but can’t stop looking at her.

The longer I stand next to her, the more I sense.

Unlike the other two who are filling the air with anxiety and fear, the girl from the hallway isn’t scared.

Even when I inch forward, something in her scent leaps.

It’s different. New. A sensation I don’t think I’ve identified before.

That’s not uncommon for me, but this is desire.

She wants me closer. It’s humming under my skin, urging me to please her .

My heart kicks my ribs so hard I ball my hands into fists.

“I will if you will.” Oh, stars above, her voice.

She’s talking to me. She’s actually talking to me. Wait, what was the question? Oh. Name. Right, I need her name.

“You first.” I aim to keep my tone level.

Her heartbeat speeds when I speak, and a flush of pink spreads beneath her skin. She takes a step back, and her eyes taunt me. Closer. Get closer.

Now I’m imagining touching her again. Just her hand is enough or maybe her cheek. The need to know what her skin feels like pressed against mine has me licking my lips.

“What’s the council?” Evangeline asks, brows furrowed.

“Oh, you’ll see. The council is how this school is run.

There are three ruling factors here—the board of directors, the dean, and the council that’s entirely student run.

The dean oversees the university and makes sure everyone is playing nice, but the council is what decides which programs get the most funding, events, rules—”

“So if you’re on the council, that means you’ll help escort us out of the maze.” Evangeline perks up. “Right?”

“I’ll give you ten seconds to run, and I promise I’ll chase you till you reach the end of your destination.”

I’m glad Zant is doing what he’s best at—talking. For once, it’s useful.

“You coming?” Zant shrugs at me before moving back to my girl.

“In a minute,” I say.

Emma runs first, and Zant trains his eyes on Evangeline, who is still hiding behind her sister.

“You should run,” I say, staring into her violet and gold eyes.

She doesn’t flinch, and I wonder if she is waiting for the same thing I am. One brief touch. That’s all I want.

“Come on!” Evangeline grabs her arm, but my girl stays still.

Zant tears after Evangeline with playful laughter and a chant that echoes in the trees.

Then it’s just me and the girl from the hallway in the silent chaos surrounding us. Screams and laughter flutter through the air.

“What’s your name?” I inch closer until her back is against a tree.

Her scent calms when we’re alone, and I can’t take it anymore. I test her reaction with a brush of my fingers against her arm. We tense together but melt in the next breath.

What is this? I’ve never felt this type of yearning before. There isn’t a word for it.

Closer. Please. I swear her voice is calling to me, but I can’t hear her. Her pupils dilate, and the hairs raise on her arms. She’s trapped against a tree, and I still have this ridiculous mask on.

“You’re not scared?” I ask.

Her heart hums in a cadence that feels oddly familiar. The entirety of her is familiar, though I know I’ve never met her before.

I cup her cheek, and she tenses, then leans into me ever so slightly. Excitement bubbles in my stomach at the warmth of her skin.

“No,” she spits back.

“Then tell me your name.”

“I don’t give my name to random masked men.”

“But you’ll let them touch you?”

We’re leaning into one another like we aren’t strangers.

Like touching our lips together right here, right now wouldn’t be insane.

Her blood pumping beneath her skin is so sweet, but there’s another scent settling in my chest. It’s the warm comfort of safety.

I toy with a strand of her hair and drag my fingers lower, barely grazing her skin at the hem of her sweater. Her breath hitches.

My long breaths mirror hers, so I close the remaining distance till we’re hip to hip and my hands move up beneath her sweater. And she’s letting me, like we’re the only two people who exist. As her eyes shut, I come to one troubling conclusion: I want to mark her.

I’ve never felt the urge, but now the need to sink my teeth into her is unbearable.

This girl has to be mine.

A scream rings through the air. It must be one of her sisters because she becomes lucid and shoves me away.

I’m dazed as she disappears from view.

Well, shit.