Scarlett
The cold creeps in like the vines on the ground, seeping through the torn fabric of my dress and gnawing at my skin. I wrap my arms tighter around myself, ignoring the violent shivers racking my body. My sass is on life support, and I am one sarcastic comment away from becoming a human icicle.
Rhodes crouches near a patch of moss, striking flint like he’s starring in a dramatic survival episode. And yes, he’s still completely naked. Because of course he is. The universe just had to toss in a naked, smug lycan king while I’m freezing and half-delirious.
I am not looking.
Okay, fine. I looked. Maybe I stared at his banana once or twice today. Maybe I cataloged every muscle on his infuriatingly perfect body like I was studying for a pop quiz.
His whole presence is outrageous. Al
