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Chapter 47: Elodie

Even behind my closed eyes, I could feel Patrick watching me. I'd tried to fake slipping back into unconsciousness, but either he didn't buy it or he had the attention span of a starving predator. It was disturbing to begin with, but as time stretched on, it became freaking creepy. He was just sitting there on his sleeping bag, gun in hand. Staring at me.

"You know that saying about a watched pot?" I said, slitting my eyes so I could see him. "The same is true of a watched werewolf."

Patrick's lips curved a little, but he didn't take his eyes off me. My skin crawled. Even if I could control my shifting, I wouldn't want to do it under that watchful gaze. He felt like a voyeur. No way in hell did I want to do something so... personal in front of him. No. So I did my best to keep my breathing even and my body as close to a Zen state as possible.