Page 6 of Hunted By Them

The smell of pine filled my nose, the scent of earth and musk, thick as if the forest itself had slipped inside with them. Maybe it was part of them. It coated my nose, and I wanted to know if they tasted the same. My body quivered, helpless, lost between terror and hunger.

Hands roamed…one firmly holding me in place, one rough, one softer. My wrists pinned, my thighs nudged apart.

“Shhh,” a new voice soothed. “You’re only fighting yourself. Let it go. Let us in.”

Something deep in me cracked. My hips rocked up, seeking, shameless. The sound that tore from my throat was a strangled moan.

And then…gone.

All at once, the weight lifted. The hands vanished. The voices cut off like clouds blown away in the storm. I lay there frozen, not sure if any of it had been real. There was no sound other than the pounding of my heart. My chest heaved against the fabric that was now loose on my face. I was terrified to move as each word seeped into me like venom, despite their truth.

Gaining the courage, I ripped the cloth from my face, gasping for air. My eyes darted around the room, but there were no wet footprints. The door was closed, and the storm continued to rage outside. I stared at my shirt, twisted cruelly around me.

I fumbled for the flashlight, shaking. Empty. Shadows where shadows belonged, but there was no one hiding in the corners.

What the fuck?

Legs weak, I slowly stood, the light streaking across the room like even it couldn’t believe I was alone. The glow slid over my pack, and I froze.

On top, lying like an offering was something pale. I stepped closer, the beam trained on the spot. Licking my lips, I stared down and blinked. There, nestled into the fabric, rested an antler.

With tentative movements, I bent over and picked up the piece of bone. It was no larger than my hand, and delicately curved—proof I wasn’t losing my mind.

Right?

My blood was still molten under my skin, nipples peaked, thighs aching with need they had left unresolved. Shame and fury tangled until I couldn’t breathe right. I wanted to scream, to cry, to claw the answers out of the stormy sky. Instead, I dropped to my knees, clutching the flashlight, staring at that antler like it held the answers.

They had been here. Touched me…left me smoldering, and completely undone.

I curled around myself, my body trembling with aftershocks I refused to name. My throat rasped with words I didn’t want to admit.

Because the truth I couldn’t run from was that I wasn’t only afraid.

I wanted more.

RYDER

The storm cloaked me as if it were molded to my shape.

It was louder, mirroring the tension building inside the small cabin. It shook the pines until they hissed and bowed. Rain hammered the earth in slanting lines, beading on my skin, like it wanted to wash the man away and leave the thing beneath.

I pictured her inside the cabin. Small, confused, aroused, curled over her pack on the floor like the canvas would somehow save her from herself. She had learned to follow society’s rules, and those rules had kept her safe and alive.

Build walls, hold the hinge, make yourself smaller until the danger gets bored.

But out here…the wilderness didn’t work that way. Out here, the smaller things like her drew the larger predators closer.

I steadily knocked on the outside wall, then took a step and whispered, “I can hear your racing heart, Sweet Daisy.”

I knocked a little softer, the sound almost lost under the rain. Pressing my ear to the wood, I knocked harder this time and heard her breathing change on the other side…fast inhale, a little gasp. She was so close that if I reached through the wall, I could’ve grabbed her.

“Leave me alone,” she cried out, her voice nothing but tremors.

Dash’s chuckle rode the wind from the far side of the clearing. He raced across the open grass and jumped up onto the porch with a bang that had our mouse screaming inside. He rolled off the porch and smiled as he stood beside me.

“She jumped like a mile high. Give me two minutes, and I’ll have her bolting out the door into the woods for us to play with,” he exclaimed, practically begging.

“Not yet.” My voice stayed level, the kind of calm that pulled leashes tight. “We want the fear but with obedience.”