Read with BonusRead with Bonus

Four

When my bag was full, I straightened up and swept my gaze over the field. I wondered how many other people snuck into this place to use it. I’d never seen anyone else, but the plants were properly pruned and managed. That spoke of a group of caring, knowledgeable people, probably from the other villages. I’d seen what happened to the plants of my neighbors who didn’t do their due diligence. They grew wild and unruly.

I wasn’t the only one who showered these plants with love. Not surprising, but still, it warmed my heart. I hoped the other villages were at

least faring as well as we were.

A whinnying owl call startled me out of my reverie. I pinched my face, listening. It was off to the side, decently close. That wasn’t startling in itself

—it sounded pissed off, but it could just be mad at its mate or another bird. Maybe it had noticed a little critter making its way across the ground or something, I didn’t know. I wasn’t an owl behavioral expert. No, what was startling was that it was the first time I’d heard that sort of owl in the Forbidden Wood.

A shivering birch, and now an owl. What was going on tonight? Whatever it was, I didn’t like it.

Be quiet now, everyone. If we’re sneaky-sneaky, no one will bother us.

I pivoted where I stood and put on a burst of speed, still picking my way through the plants with care but doing it as fast as I possibly could.

A soft chuff caught my attention and flooded me with a fearful chill. My flight reflex very nearly had me hiking up my pants and sprinting through the wood like some sort of hobgoblin.

Was it the beast? Something else? Maybe it didn’t matter. The sound had come from a larger animal, and anything that large in this wood was a predator of some kind.

I let my breath out very slowly. The animal was southwest of me, in the same direction as the owl’s outburst, but closer.

I looked down at the pocketknife clutched in my shaking hand. That weapon was not going to cut it.

Damn it, now I was thinking in dad jokes.

Straining my eyes, I watched for movement as I grabbed the blade to fold it away. Watched to see if anything interrupted the shards of soft moonlight piercing the shadows. The still night didn’t reveal its secrets.

Courage now, folks. Everyone remain calm.

I turned slowly toward home, carefully lowering my feet one at a time. I didn’t want my feet to slide on the crusty dirt. Breathing slowly helped, too. I needed air to fuel my brain and my muscles. I needed to think or run, or both simultaneously. Blind terror never helped anyone.

My pocketknife made a snick sound as I closed it and the blade lodged home. I paused, gritting my teeth. Silence reverberated around me…until a wail rang out, like an old woman grieving over the lost. Loud and low and full of bitter agony.

I jumped. My pocketknife tumbled from my fingers.

Fuck! I dropped the fucking knife. Hold on to your dicks, folks, this is about to get hairy.

Another cry, this time like an infant. It rattled my senses as the knife hit the ground in multiple thumps.

This new creature’s sounds came from the north. Directly north. Fifty yards, maybe, possibly a bit more.

Loud grunts followed. Hunka, hunka, hunka.

Same direction, similar distance. It was obviously the creature from a moment ago, some sort of mockingbird of terror. What the grunts were supposed to attract, I did not know or care.

I bent in a rush, trying to peer through the deep shadows to find my knife, and then ran my fingers against the ground, searching. Dried grasses brushed my palm.

Another owl blasted its warning— or maybe the same owl? I didn’t know. Were they tenacious fuckers who followed trespassers like grumpy old men? I needed to look that up. Regardless, its call was much closer this time. Thirty yards, maybe less. Southwest, in the direction of the large predator.

Fuck the pocketknife.

I straightened up swiftly, adjusted the sack of leaves, and put on a burst of speed around the birch. It shivered like it had on the way in. This time, though, the movement seemed more intense. The leaves clattered together like dancing skeletons. Branches creaked, waving in the absence of wind.

What in the double fuck was up with that tree? Had I cut down its cousin or something?

The mockingbird of terror abruptly stopped its grunting. It had heard me.

It knew something was here.

That goddess-damned birch would join its cousin if I had any say. I’d dance naked around the flames.

Swallowing a swear, I hurried forward to put some distance between me and the freaking-out flora. A patch of brittle grass between two thick trunks awaited me ahead, and I slowed. My vision had narrowed to directly in front of me, and my heart pounded adrenaline through my body, signs of the flight reflex. I slowed further and sucked in a breath. I could not blindly run. I could not. I had to think this through. I had to be smart.

The falling knife hadn’t been that loud. The creatures in the area didn’t know I was here. They only knew that the birch was a diva dickface looking for attention. And even if they did know there was a trespasser in their midst,

they wouldn’t be able to track me. My scent was hidden due to the hand- crafted herbal brew I’d drunk before leaving the house, and the ground was too hard for my feet to make distinct tracks in the darkness. Right now, I was still an unknown.

I eyed the grass ahead while listening. The birch finally settled down, leaving a gaping absence of sound in its wake. No movement caught my ear. No screeches.

My chest felt tight, strained with the pressure of staying calm. I focused on my breathing and started moving slowly forward again, easing the dagger from its sheath as I did so. The grass issued some light crackles before I met hard dirt again, only cut through with patches of dead grass. I barely stopped myself from heaving a loud sigh.

An owl screeched overhead.

I jerked and jumped at the same time. The blade of my dagger thudded uselessly off the tree trunk to my left. The owl called its warning again, and I wished I had my bow so I could shut that thing up right now. Get off my lawn, owl!

The old woman’s wail sounded again, slicing through me. Northeast, tracking me.

I moved faster now, careful with my footfalls. I had about a hundred yards to go to get out of this place. Maybe a bit more. Not very far in the scheme of things, but how fast could that creature run? I was fast, but it was almost certainly faster. And the village border only meant something to the beast. Crossing the boundary line wouldn’t be enough to escape this creature. I’d need to get inside my house and lock the door. That was plenty of distance for it to catch me.

Walking would be a lot slower and not much quieter. The alternative to walking was to stand my ground with a half-starved body from years of barely getting by and a medium-sized, somewhat dull dagger. Nice odds.

A strange feeling rolled through my chest, like a heavy weight turning over. Shortly afterward, a shock of fire coursed through me, and I couldn’t help sucking in a startled breath.

It felt…wonderful. Fucking amazing, actually. The heat, the power, and the…desire?

Oh shit. Incubus. I hadn’t taken the draught to stop a demon’s lust magic because I hadn’t thought there’d be any in the Forbidden Wood. But why wouldn’t there be? They got a free pass all over the kingdom. My not having

seen them in here before meant very little.

Thankfully, they weren’t dangerous enough to give me pause.

Grip tight on the dagger handle, I pushed through the pounding in my core and kept moving. Ignored the sudden explosion of wetness between my thighs, sending shooting sparks of delight every time my upper legs gave even a glimmer of friction. And what was that smell? Balmy and spicy and delicious. Fuck, that smelled good.

The sound of a wailing baby tore through the night air, desperately close, twenty yards or so to my left. The mockingbird of terror had moved in my direction on a diagonal. Somehow it was tracking me without being able to smell or see me.

Or maybe my smell-blindness elixir didn’t work as well as I’d thought… I looked upward, thinking about climbing. It would be a struggle to reach

the nearest branches. I doubted I could do it quickly or quietly, and even if I managed it, what if the creature could fly? It would be on me in a heartbeat.

Running might be my only option.

Before I could, the strange weight in my chest lurched. Lava spilled out and dripped down to my sodden core. I couldn’t stop a moan as an intimate presence feathered across my skin, as though someone were physically touching me with silky fingers.

My breathing turned ragged as I desperately tried to shut the feeling out. It was…incredible, though. The best fucking thing I’d ever felt. Primal,

almost, reaching down into the very center of me and pulling out a raw hunger I didn’t want to shy away from. Desperate desires flitted through my head, of touching, of tangled bodies, of the taste of a hard cock sliding into my mouth.

Fuck me, this incubus was a strong motherfucker. I’d never felt something like this before.

I had to push past it. I had to ignore the sudden, brain-fogging desire to drop down right now and spread my legs, begging to be taken. To be dominated.

When the fuck did a girl like me want to be dominated? Right fucking now, that was when.

This was not how I got out of this wood alive. This was not real.

It certainly felt fucking real, though. This wasn’t like the demons in the village, who had a sort of oily presence in their lustful magic. This felt like a piece of me…a secret piece of me…exposed.

Fuck. Not good. I had to shut it out!

Keep moving, I urged myself. Keep going. You’re stronger than this.

Resist!

I pushed forward again, stumbling like a drunk. How was I going to fight the mockingbird of terror in this state? Was the incubus working with it? If not, it needed to show itself so I could kill it really quickly and move on.

The seam of my pants rubbing against my slick sex nearly undid me. My hard nipples rubbed against the coarse binding surrounding them, which was suddenly not nearly tight enough. My quickened breath was not because of my fast walk.

This was so fucked up. I could barely focus on my extreme panic.

A low growl sliced through every band of pleasure wrapping around my body, and the desire fell away like cut ribbons. In its place, cold terror once again reigned.

I jerked to a stop, dagger up, eyes as big as the moon. The baritone rumbling continued, freezing my blood.

I turned my head slowly toward the sound on my right.

Shadow lined the rough grooves of bark on the large tree. Moonlight carved through the darkness beside it. I didn’t hear or see a damn thing. For a few solid moments, nothing in the whole wood seemed to move.

A shape popped out from the left, the opposite direction from where I’d been looking. The leathery body was bent over on two stout legs, its head still cresting mine by about four feet. Small arms and little hands reached forward as its huge mouth gaped open. I’d half expected something like a bird. Not the case. Two rows of teeth dripped with saliva.

It lunged at me, intent on snapping my face between its jaws.

Previous Chapter
Next Chapter