Chapter 8. The Lake House

“Paris, look at me,” Marcel said but I couldn’t tear my gaze from the door.

They didn’t sound far. After the first howl, a series of barks followed.

Marcel took my arm and pulled me off the ground. What if they

found the house and smelt blood? Marcel planted me on the couch

beside him. He made me face him, holding my face in his palms he cracked a smile.

“They won’t come here.”

“They sound close.”

“Don’t worry about them. Here give me the cloth.”

I let him have it. The bleeding stopped thanks to the alcohol. I was able to see three puncture wounds on his side.

“Were you attacked by an animal?” I asked.

He quickly covered his wounds.

“You can say that. Now, how the hell did you end up here?”

The howling stopped so I was able to focus on Marcel. His defined abs and various tattoos were a tad distracting.

“Owen let me rent the place. I haven’t heard from him in a while.”

I nibbled o