She was squirming nervously between the cool sheets. Logan was sitting in front of the fireplace, his body stretched lazily over the chair and the footstool in front of it.
“Have you eaten?” He suddenly asked.
“I have tried. It feels like nothing’s enough. I practically ate my way through the forest last night, but it didn’t help.”
“Ate your way through the forest?” Logan asked tilting his head.
“There are berries and nuts even this time of the year. Some roots are edible. I caught a mouse, but I had to let it go. I couldn’t have gotten a fire going, and I wasn’t going to eat it raw.” Logan snorted, amused smile spreading over his features.
“No wonder you’re still hungry. You would probably feel better if you had eaten that mouse.”
“But I couldn’t cook it…”
“Blood. You’re not a vampire yet, but your body is accommodating. You want food. Your body’s after blood already,” Logan murmured, his gaze fixed to the flickering fire in front of him.
“I don’t want…” Marie tried to argue, but the rest of her sentence was cut off when Logan let go of the wrist he had been clutching, revealing the wound that still bled sluggishly.
“You want it. As much as I want it when the wolf is closer to surface.”
“Put it away…” Marie closed her eyes. She heard Logan getting up. Soft thud of his boots when he walked closer. Scent of blood enveloped her.
“Open your eyes.”
“No. Go away.”
Something warm dribbled over her face. Scent of blood and her hunger intensified. Logan’s palm clasped her cheek.
“Open your eyes.” She did as he asked. His wounded hand was hovering over her face, blood dripping on her cheeks, eyelids and lips. She spluttered and gagged, bolting upright and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
“What the hell are you doing!” She shouted, part angered, partly fascinated from the taste of his blood she had gotten when few drops had landed on her tongue.
“Do you want it?” Logan asked, still offering his wrist. Marie grimaced, not knowing what to do, what to say.
“Do you want it?” Logan asked again.
“No… Yes! I want it! Happy now?” She screamed, curling her hands around her sides. She could see from the corner of her eye Logan retreating and settling again in front of the fire, reaching for a rolled up strip of cloth he had taken from his jacket pocket.
“It’s easier if you accept it. Easier to stay in control if you admit it. Longer you keep denying what you want, the worse hunger is going to get, until you won’t be able to stop yourself,” he spoke softly while cleaning the wound and bandaging it.
“What are you doing?” Marie asked alerted when he started taking off his clothes. Logan cocked his eyebrow.
“I’m coming to bed. I was up all night, and I’m tired.”
“You’re… You can’t…”
“I’m not welcome to your bed anymore?” Logan asked.
“It’s not that… What if… Something happens?” Marie whispered, every muscle in her body growing tense and taut when she felt Logan slipping behind her, plastering his body against her as close as it was possible.
“Nothing’s going to happen. I missed you. Come on; let’s get some sleep. We have time to talk in the evening before we leave…” Logan muttered, planting a soft kiss to the back of her neck, curling his hands around her.
“How can you trust me?”
“You trusted enough to me by letting me in to your life.” And with that he relaxed, his powerful chest and feet molding against her rigid body. She could hear his breath deepening. He was falling asleep rapidly. She could only envy his ability to sleep under these circumstances.
She was unable to close her eyes. Logan’s right hand rested temptingly close, curled over her ribcage, bandaged wrist tucked under her chin. Scent of blood oozed from under bandages, fueling the hunger churning in her. Small trickle of red fluid had escaped, seeped through the cloth and blossomed to almost flower-shaped patch. Her eyes kept drifting to that patch no matter how hard she tried to avoid looking at it. Finally she fell to a dreamless, restless sleep.
She woke up to the scent of porridge and freshly baked bread. Logan was sitting in front of the fireplace, rubbing his chin, deep in his thoughts. When she moaned and stretched he turned to look at her.
“Hungry?” He asked. She flashed him an angry glare, fully intending to scold him, but the look on his face made her swallow the harsh words. He was tired.
“Yes. I’m hungry,” she admitted, rising from the bed and walking towards the small table standing next to Logan. There was a tray, and on the tray laid a bowl filled with oatmeal, and few loaves of bread. There was water, too, in a small pitcher. Her stomach growled, turning over from the sight of it.
“You have to eat. Your body may think you don’t need it, but you’ll keel over if you don’t eat,” Logan explained almost apologetically.
“I know. I know I have to eat. It’s just… It feels so stupid when…”
“You’re finished and you’re still hungry,” Logan finished her sentence.
“Is this how you feel when Wolverine is rising?” Marie asked, taking a spoonful of porridge, nearly choking to it before she managed to force it down to her throat.
“Nothing’s enough. You know exactly what you want, and how you could have it. And you know it wouldn’t be enough, but you still want it. Need it.” Logan’s voice was low and hushed, vibrating through the air. She realized she could hear his heartbeat as clearly as if she had her ear pressed against his chest.
“But you can’t give up. As soon as you give up, listen and obey, there’s no turning back.” She had discarded the bowl and the spoon, mesmerized by his voice, and the way his lips seemed to dance every time he spoke. All her senses were slowly waking up, sharpening.
“You can’t give up, Marie. We’ll find that vampire, and I’ll tear him to shreds for hurting you.” She stood up, her gaze following the thin, blue lines that seemed to appear and disappear just under the surface of his skin. What on earth were those? Was he sick?
“As soon as you’re ready, we can leave. We have to hurry. If it really killed everybody in Ravensholm, it has no reason to stay in that area. We have to get there before it leaves.” Logan’s words didn’t even register anymore. Tone of his voice told her he was all right, but anxious to leave. She closed the gap between them, to get a closer look of those blue lines. She placed a finger over one before it disappeared and followed it, pad of her finger sliding over his cheek, down to his jaw, along his throat and neck. She didn’t notice how quiet Logan had gotten. How tense he was. Not before he spoke again.
“What the hell are you doing?”
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