Book 12: It's a Fever

Aviva

Hot water rolls over my skin as I press my forehead against the tile. The shower is a new addition to our house, built along with the second story and unused bedrooms in the upper level. For me, the shower is absolutely massive–unreasonably so. For Ryan, it was a much needed upgrade from our copper tub downstairs. 

He stretches his arms over his head and groans as the scent of lavender soap fills the air, mingling with the steam. The window cut into the tile fogs up, blocking our view of the woods, but the first inklings of morning sunlight are trying to stretch toward Silverhide. 

“So,” he says behind me, gently tugging twigs from my curls and tossing them out of the shower. “This hellhound you found… what did it look like?”

“A wolf,” I say, closing my eyes as his large hands drift to my shoulders, working out the knots from being in my wolf form practically the entire night. My breasts begin to ache with fullness but it’s a