Instead of continuing to watch, I turn my back to him, suck in a deep, icy breath, and head back up the stairs.
SIXTEEN
HANNAH
A bear.
He has killed a frickin’bear. And it’s one of the grizzliest of grizzlies, if the gigantic pelt he’s decided to stretch and cure on the opposite end of the great room is any indication. Why he’s decided to do this in the same room in which we’re eating, I cannotbeginto fathom.
Not wanting to get on his bad side, though, I’m here, on my knees by the side of his giant, throne-like chair.
Dear Lord, he was still working on the pelt when I came down for dinner, large sacks of salt at his side.
I couldn’t look.
I mean, Itrynot to look, but I can’t help but glance a few times.
Is this some sort of warning to me? Look and see: I can take down this giant, fearsome beast with apparent ease.
After he finishes with the pelt and dresses the meat, he goes straight to the opposite end of the room where a large fire finally blazes, and then he starts cooking bear steaks.
That’s when my stomach starts roiling.
I mean,no. Just no.
I’m not a country girl. I didn’t grow up in places where you go back and forth from prepping the thing you just skinned to cooking the meat you… what? Just tore the flesh from mere hours earlier?
Also, where, oh where, is the freakingsoap?
When he finally comes to the table, I keep my eyes downcast.
It’s not from submission or anything.
More from trying to keep my stomach under control.
Beast settles into his chair. A bang follows as the cooking pot lands on the table.
“Consort,” he demands in his characteristic brutish way. “Eat.”
I lift my gaze ever so slightly to see him proffering down a claw with juicy, dripping meat. Only for the wind to blow, bringing the smell of the curing hide right to my nose.
I shake my head firmly, keeping my eyes downcast. “No, thank you.”
“Eat!” he demands.
I lift my eyes only so I can glare at him. “You didn’t even wash your hands!” He’s not the only one who can prowl around demanding things.
His eyebrows rise in surprise.
Then he looks at his hands in confusion before glaring back down at me. “I submerged myself in the lake after butchering the beast. My fur was quite bloody after I separated his shank from his pelvis for the meat. And skinning him was also quite a mess?—”
I shake my head and lift a hand.
I suppose it is considerate of him to not show up bloody from head to... claw. Except, sorry to say, his vivid visuals only make my stomach turn worse.
“I don’t need to know all the details.”
A low growl comes from deep in his chest. “Do you shun the food I provide for you, consort? Or the warmth you will gather from the bear’s fur?”
