Page 11 of Monstrous Grave

Just the distraction I need—a sudden sound breaks my thoughts, and I swiftly look back, heart thrumming wildly.

No one is there.

I keep looking around, searching for anything amiss, but the only things noticeable are two deer farther off in the fields, with the sun gradually dipping below the horizon. Sweat coats my palms when I catch sight of something far away on the abandoned road—closer to the forest than I am, yet too close for my comfort.

A bike.

A biker.

My heart beats erratically when the low hum of the engine turns off. The organ in my chest resembles a frantic deer, skittering inside me as it runs in panic from the sound of the engine. The feeling of dread spreads through me like a relentless wave, not giving way for mercy as I stare at the biker.

Despite how far off he is, I notice his wider shoulders, taller frame, hinting that it’s a man standing there. I swallow harshly, holding as still as I can, never daring to move or even breathe.

Be still, and he won’t see you.

Of course he will fucking see me. We’re in the middle of nowhere.

The figure stands motionless, helmet covering his face, shoulders clad in a black leather jacket and hands in leather gloves. He’s protected from head to toe in leather, his frame never wavering from the seat of his bike. I don’t know what to do, panic clawing at me from the inside.

Think, think, fucking think!

The thought of calling Alec for backup crosses my mind, but then, I’m not in the mood to speak to him. Not after yesterday, or after realizing he knew I had to work with someone else without informing me or intervening. Especially not since I’m supposed to be at the dock right now.

There’s something in the way the stranger observes me that I can sense even from afar. Though I cannot see his eyes, I feel his gaze on me.

I don’t know what to do or how to react, sitting utterly still as he observes me. Soon, the sun will disappear entirely, leaving me alone with this stranger on the abandoned road. With a shaky breath, I grip the gun even tighter, never breaking my gaze from the masked stranger.

When he doesn’t move, I decide to take a chance and rise to my feet, slowly stepping over to my bike. I draw in a breath when I see his hand twitching, the low hum of his Yamaha R1 starting. It gleams under the remnants of daylight, curving with precision and painted in a mesmerizing combination of black and red.

I start mine, attempting to maintain my composure. He zeroes in on me, sending a churn of anxiety deep within me. I secure my helmet and start to drive away from the side of the road where I parked.

He does the same.

Think!

Could it be him? The notorious biker? I’ve never seen him in real life, but he’s all over news articles.

I swallow the lump of saliva that sticks like glue in my throat, a bitter taste filling me when I rev the engine.

Once more, he does the same. What the hell?

Without hesitation, I grab the gun and point it backward, firing with as much accuracy as I can muster without even looking. It doesn’t seem to deter him, and I fire another shot, praying it’ll hit my target. I don’t care if I end up killing him—I just need him off my tail.

The screech of wheels behind me lets me know I must have punctured his tire. Seizing the moment of distraction, I push the bike at an even faster speed, leaving the stranger behind on the abandoned road, with my pulse pounding like a drumbeat in my frantic need to escape.

Chapter 5

Arcane

Some days are worse than others. On those occasions, my chest feels as if it’s ripped apart by pain, a seed taking root within, only to never let go. Before him, solitude was my constant companion, with no friends to speak to back at the orphanage. I understood them because why would anyone befriend the quiet, weird girl who barely dared speak to someone?

Then, he intruded upon my world when I was seven years old. Through teasing and taunting, he eventually made me snap, and I spoke for the first time in years. His response was nothing but a grin, a captivating, calculated smirk playing upon his lips.

That was the day I realized he was something else, a boy unlike anyone I had ever met before, with a dark sense of humor no one but I could understand.

“We are meant to be together. You’re mine.”

His words were possessive. His actions told me I was to be his, and I yearned for a big brother to look up to, someone who would care about me in ways no one else ever had.

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