Page 8 of The Satyr's Wood

Chapter 6

Tiffany peered suspiciously through the window at the forest just beyond the cabin walls. The satyr—Barbasa—had been gone all day and what had begun as a feeling of relief at finally being alone again to see to her needs when he left, starting with a quick scrub in the frigid river, had steadily turned into a prickle of anxiety after the sun set as the world outside the cabin plunged into complete darkness. She had tried to pretend that the lengthening shadows didn’t bother her, nor that the subtle, eerie sounds that came from the woods disturbed her previous sense of peace. But now that the night had fully descended, she was a wreck as she peered out in the night.

She didn’t understand exactly why she was such a mess. He made her nervous just being in the same confines together. The cabin was too small for even the smallest bit of privacy, logically she should be glad to have the space to herself. But the darker it got, the less safe the confines of the cabin felt against the world lurking beyond the door.

She stared at the door, debating on whether she should go out and get a better look to see if she could see any sign of him coming but a low, hair rising howl rose from some spot in the distance, sending her scurrying back into hiding. Tiffany ducked behind the battered curtain, her eyes widening as she stared off into the deepening gloom. Although the cabin clearly inhabited a section of forest that pre-existed the forests that overtook so much of the land following the Ravening, there was no telling how much of her surroundings was the original forest. Or what predators lurked within it.

Didn’t Barbasa assure her that no one would find her within his woods? How much of that was due to dangers that lurked among the trees?

Her eyes scanned the darkness, and a shiver ran through her as the heavy shadows seemed to shift unnaturally within the moonlight. Every now and then she caught a glimmer of what looked like glowing eyes of creatures prowling in the forest.

“Please let that be Barbasa,” she whispered.

Her skin prickled as another howl went up, this time closer than the last. Ducking lower into a crouch, she curled into herself defensively as a shudder wracked her frame. Why had she thought that going with the satyr was a good idea? He had promised her a place where no one would find her, but he had neglected to mention that it was because there were things in his woods that would eat anyone who ventured into it. The sad thing was that she didn’t know if even knowing that would have done much to deter her. As terrified as she was, she couldn’t say that it was worse than the certain fate that would have met her at the hands of her pursuers.

And Barbasa had said he would keep her safe. Even if he wasn’t the most trustworthy sort, she was certain that much was true. Surely that included safe from whatever was prowling outside. Right? But why wasn’t he back yet?

“Fucking forest. Fucking monsters,” she muttered under her breath and promptly cringed as another howl seemed to join the first.

A loud growl sounded right outside the door that had her popping up and stumbling back away from the door as heart lurched in a desperate attempt to escape her body.

“No. No, no, no,” she babbled anxiously as the back of her legs struck the bedframe. “Where is that fucking satyr!”

The door suddenly slammed open, and Tiffany jumped hard enough that her entire body teetered and fell backwards onto the bed as a pair of glowing, golden eyes stared at her from the darkness. Suddenly they surged forward, and an unbidden scream came to her lips just as Barbasas stepped quicklythrough the door, the golden glow of his eyes shifting back to their normal bright yellow as he slammed the door behind him with a grin.

“You called, my sweet?” he purred.

Never before had Tiffany simultaneously wanted to kiss and murder someone so much. She settled on glaring at him as she struggled up from the bed. Grabbing a pillow, she tossed it at his head, feeling somewhat vindicated when it snagged on his horn, hitting him square in the face.

Barbasa’s dark chuckle filled the cabin, he’s eyes taking on a slight glow once more as they glinted in the firelight. Tossing the pillow to the worn couch against the wall, he stalked toward her, his gait sending the two fat pheasants lashed to his hip swinging. Tiffany blinked down at them, her annoyance and fear evaporating as her stomach rumbled loudly with her hunger. Barbasa stilled at the sound, his head cocking as he regarded her. His yellow eyes warmed with a teasing hint of humor.

“Ah, yes. Certain appetites always must be satiated first.” He chuckled as he abruptly headed toward the hearth, freeing the cord holding the birds from around his waist.

Tiffany’s eyes followed him in surprise, the tension that had gathered in her limbs flooding from her body. Her gaze narrowed at him. Was he fucking with her? From the amused smile on his face as he crouched beside the fire and began to quickly pluck the birds, she was beginning to suspect that he had intended to go to the hearth the entire time.

Her feet carried her slowly toward him as he worked on preparing the birds with an impressive speed. He had already cleaned them at some point outside so that the moment they were free of feather, he was quickly removing the head and spitting them over the fire. Stopping at a distance that felt safe to her, she crouched down and eyed him as he proceeded to seasonthe birds with some sort of mixture from a pouch that hung from a peg on the hearth.

The firelight cast a soft illumination on his features making the sharp angles of his face appear almost wraith-like where it hit him. Or, with the proud way his horns jutted from his brow, like some sort of demonic entity that tormented people in horror flicks. Although his hair was on the shorter side just above his shoulders, it was shaggy in a riot of curls that frame his face like a dark halo. It was from these curls that his horns emerged. The smaller central horns rose visibly from his brow, pushing the curls back off his face, but the larger horns that shot from his temples curled at either side of his head made him look all the fiercer as his head bent down over the pheasants.

She glanced back at the window nervously, noting that the forest had fallen silent once more, before peering at the satyr once more.

“What was that... out there?” she asked, stumbling over her words.

His yellow gaze slowly lifted to her face and the corner of his mouth hitched. “Do not be frightened, little pet. It is merely a pack of dire wolves who dwell here with me.”

“Dire wolves?”

Barbasa nodded, his smile growing. “Impressive is it not? Any satyr or faun may guard their homes with a wolf pack, but dire wolves with their extra-large size, larger teeth, and more powerful biting force, are something few can lay claim on.”

Tiffany swallowed thickly, her gaze darting once more toward the window as her stomach lurched with a surge of nausea. It was clear that the satyr considered their presence to be valuable for the protection of his woods but all she could think about was that she was literally surrounded by very large predators who could take her out with little effort.

“Really?” she croaked in reply, fighting for some measure of calm. “That is very... ah... good for you. A bit horrifying if that is what you are going for.”

To her surprise, Barbasa suddenly barked out a laugh, making her flinch back and come close to losing her balance once more. His clawed hand caught her easily, balancing her once more on the balls of her feet as he gave her a roguish smile. “Horrifying is exactly what one ought to go for when it comes to guardians. There are far worse I could have invited into my territory, but I have little patience for most fae.”

He stretched languidly, his muscles moving with a powerful grace beneath his skin. “I do not have even a cheeky nymph to share my abode,” he confided with an exaggerated sigh that made her brows knot in annoyance. She wasn’t familiar with a large number of fae and monstrous races, but everyone knew what nymphs were as the river nymphs casually roamed along their claimed rivers, carousing at any town they encountered. He clearly had plenty of experience with them as well—and for some reason that annoyed her. She rolled her eyes at the fire. What breathing male didn’t appreciate the company of nymphs?

“The dire wolves haunting my forest will not harm you, pet,” he continued as he fed several sticks into the fire. “I stole a little something from you to share your scent among them. I do hope that you won’t be missing the bit of cloth from your sack.”

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