Page 51 of Song of the Dark Wood

Rowan wanted to pause and listen to see if Conor was behind her, but even a second’s hesitation might be enough to get her killed. She kept running. She could only hear her heartbeat in her ears and her staccato breathing. The trees lining the trail like a tunnel around her were a blur of bony white spindles.

She chanced a glance over her shoulder but saw nothing. When she turned back, she found a man on the trail ahead of her.

“Bless the Mother! Help!” Rowan called.

He turned and grinned at her. “There you are, lass. You look as though you’ve had a fright.”

He was on the trail, so he had to be a huntsman like Finn. He was tall and broad, and too far into the Dark Wood to be anyone else.

Rowan looked back over her shoulder. “We have to go. The Wolf is coming. I hurt myself, and he’s tracking me.” She tugged on the huntsman’s shirt, urging him on.

“There, there, love. Take a breath. I’ve been looking for you. It’s going to be just fine now. Look at me,” the huntsman whispered.

Rowan lifted her gaze and met his bright amber eyes.

“Good lass,” he said soothingly. A swirling, dissonant sound rushed around her and sank into her skin.

All the fear in Rowan’s body dissipated as he spoke.Everything was going to be fine. She relaxed into his touch as her adrenaline faded. She felt tired, mesmerized by his eyes.

“How do you feel?” the man asked.

“Much better,” Rowan mumbled. She was sure she should look away, but she couldn’t. She was snared by the man’s gaze. “What beautiful eyes you have.”

“All the better to see you with, lovely.” The man grinned, and she caught a flash of exceptionally pointy canines.

“What big teeth you have,” she murmured. The fear that rose at the sight of them evaporated almost as soon as she became aware of it.

“All the better to eat you up, Rowan Cleary. You smell divine,” he whispered.

Something wasn’t right, but Rowan couldn’t say what it was. The man brushed her hair over her shoulder, his fingers trailing up to rest on her pulse.

“How—how do you know my name?” she asked, her voice trembling.

“Because you whispered it to the Dark Wood fifteen years ago, and I heard it,” he soothed. “I whispered it back. Don’t you remember? I’ve listened to your whispers for years. I’ve waited for you.”

“Waited for me?”

“Yes. To claim you just like you wanted me to,” he whispered. “Why else would you give me such power over you by sharing your name?”

Rowan tried to shake off the soothing way his voice wrapped around her like a warm blanket, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t move or think straight.

The man lifted her hand to his lips, and his tongue laved over the blood on her palm. He groaned. “He’s a fool not to take you. You are exquisite. Don’t you want to be mine, Rowan? I can make you feel so good.”

He’s not a hunter. A hunter wouldn’t touch you, Rowan.

The thought faded as he spun her, pulling her back flush to his front. A low growl rumbled in his throat, and his lips pressed to her neck.

“Good lass,” he soothed. “Now don’t scream.”

Run, Rowan, run!Her mind pleaded.

But the message didn’t get to her legs. His teeth grazed over her neck, and she shivered, trying to squirm away. His hand collared her, tilting her head to the side.

“It will only hurt for a moment, I promise,” he whispered.

Before she could protest, he struck. Pain exploded from where his teeth punctured her skin. It was so sharp it stole herbreath. The lightning-fast ache sliced into her, burning through her veins like molten ore.

Her mind spun until it caught on one memory—the bite mark on Orla’s neck. A sick horror turned her stomach. This monster had killed Orla.

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