Eritic Short の小説・ストーリー

I ask, my brows dipping. His eyes widen for only a brief moment, then his lips press into a thin smile. “I meant E,” he tries to correct but fails. “E is short for Eira.” “Oh,” I say, testing the name on my lips, “Eira.” She flinches in the crowd, Asha and Hana protectively flank her. The silence is deafening, air thick. Some pack members stare wide eyed, while some avert my gaze. I frown, confused.

Including Vitali’s animai Eric. Eric is fitting in great already and I’m thrilled that Vitali won’t be all alone in the Beta suite. Vitali and Eric have marked each other, but Vitali says they haven’t mated yet, he’s a bit nervous, which is perfectly understandable. There’s no rush so the two are taking their time to just enjoy each other and get to know one another. Either way, Eric has been integrated into our little group as if he’s always been here, and I know that’s made Vitali incredibly happy.

he trailed off, blushing hard as he realised what he'd have to say out loud, “F…for lovers.” Everett rolled his eyes, playfully flicking his head. “Don’t overthink it. You’re just… so short, it comes naturally.” “Everett!” Jeremiah gasped at the insult, his eyes narrowing in mock outrage. “I’m not short. You're just freakishly tall.” Everett’s grin widened. “Tell me you’re not jealous and I’ll pretend to believe you.” “Are you always this mean?” Jeremiah shot back, fighting to keep the smile from his lips.

“That’s…” Ethan cut him off. “And oh, not too long ago, I experienced something called a rut. What the fuck does that even mean?” His voice edged with frustration. Eric’s eyes widened. The worries in his eyes quickly changed to amusement. “You had a rut?” a smile graced Eric's lips. Ethan lowered his gaze, embarrassed. “That’s not funny, Eric… I had to use the restroom to… you know.” Heat crept up his face in embarrassment.

Eric paused and raked a hand through his crazy hair. For some inexplicable reason she wanted to run her fingers through it too. Like a work of art, Eric Stick’s hair demanded attention. It was long on one side—something to hold on to. The other half was sheared off short. She imagined it would feel soft and silky beneath her fingertips. A row of inch-long spikes ran from forehead to nape, separating long locks from short fuzz. It was shiny and ebony except for the long lock that curled around his throat and hung down to his left collarbone. By some strange coincidence it was dyed the same blue she’d chosen to dye hers—for the sole purpose of ticking off her mother—not a week ago.

We cautiously approached but before we could reach the door, it flew open and a team of huskies poured out into the snow, yipping and jumping among Makya’s team. “HEEL! Come on you hooligans!” barked Eris stepping out. Eris was a lanky fellow, who had turned twenty last summer. At 195 cm, he towered over my 173cm, and even over Makya. I smiled up at Eris as he pushed a windblown black lock of hair back behinD his ear where his long curls hung. “Hello, Eris. We didn’t expect you to beat us.” “Well, Dekota got the itch to come sooner, so we left last night. We should have only been an hour behind you but we decided to cut across deer run to get here.”

I loved you and I am sorry, Eric

Dinner arrives, and for a brief moment, there’s nothing but the sound of people eating. That’s when I heard it. Eric takes a deep breath, his inhale sharp and deliberate. I know that sound. It’s the sound he makes when he’s angry but trying not to draw attention. I look up. His voice is tight and low, but it still carries. I turn toward Rita. He’s angry talking to her. I only hear the end of his sentence. “......, I can’t believe you.” Rita laments in that voice she uses, even when she knows she has done something wrong but doesn't want to take responsibility.