87. The Hunt

Of course Wonjo Wesley had chosen hunting. In all the years Tatum had known her, she’d always enjoyed the wild. Always enjoyed doing wild things.

He had been blinded by her beauty and charisma in his youth and it had taught him a painful lesson, however short.

They had killed three rabbits and a deer, and Wonjo was eager for more.

“We should eat. I’ll collect the firewood.”

Wonjo smiled beside him, putting away her bow and arrows. “Just like old times.”

She followed him as he searched around them for wood to make fire. Tatum enjoyed the silence and dreaded having to make conversation with her, even though he knew it was inevitable.

When they had collected enough firewood, they sat down on cobblestones as they made the fire. They were going to cook the rabbit first.

A part of him had missed living so wildly. It catered to his baser instincts and fuelled his wolf’s appetite.

“How have you been, Tatum?”

Wonjo’s sultry voice pierced his thoughts and he looked up at her from the fire. “W