“Sorry about that.” His words are slightly slurred. “You shouldn’t be out this late with a beast on the loose.”
I swallow before shrugging.
“Old Bill needed me so…”
I let the sentence trail off as Timson approaches. His gait eats up the distance between us, and his hunters follow closely behind. My blood freezes in my veins. I need to get inside and lock the door. This situation is dangerous. This far away from the village, no one can hear me—not that they would be much help against him anyway.
I clear my throat.
“Have you had any luck finding the wolfman?” I ask, hoping he’ll remember his task and leave me alone.
Timson gives a dismissive shake of his head.
“We’ve been searchingThe Woodsall day. The neighboring villages as well. The creature’s scent seems to have disappeared altogether.” His bleary eyes narrow at me. “Yet, my dogs keep circling your cottage. Why is that?”
My mouth runs dry.
“I—um, well, living this close toThe Woods, it wouldn’t be far a stretch to assume he passed by here while fleeing.”
Timson takes another step closer to me, his body nearly brushing mine.
“Have you seen the demon?” he demands—his breath reeks of whiskey.
“No.”
He inhales deeply, something kindling in his gaze. A lazy smile spreads over her lips as bile races up my throat. I remember his drunken declarations last night at the old mill. The blood in my veins ices over.
“You know, Stella, you shouldn’t live this remote.” He leans closer to my face, and my back flattens against the door. “But it does have its perks. Lots of privacy.”
I nod, not knowing what else to say. His hand falls beside my head against the door. His stench nearly makes my eyes water.
“Have you given my offer any more thought?”
I swallow, fumbling behind me to find the doorknob. My hand wraps around it, and I twist it, preparing to slip through.
“Look, Timson, it’s late—I’m tired—and I should get inside with a wolfman on the loose. We will talk more tomorrow at the tavern.”
I push the door open and slip inside without waiting for his reply. Before I can shut it, Timson’s hand wraps around the edge of the door. With more strength than I thought he had, he forces the door open and follows me in. Panic sends a shiver down my spine.
“What are you?—”
“How about I don’t give you a choice, Stella? No one is here but my men.” He stomps towards me, and I stumble back towards the kitchen table. “You’ve been disrespecting me for far too long.”
“You need to leave—you’re drunk and?—”
He presses closer to me, the front of our bodies flush. The corner of the kitchen table presses into my spine. The pungent taste of fear coats my tongue, especially as I feel the hardness in his trousers pressing into me.
My hands reach behind me, searching for anything sharp. Timson takes his opportunity and grasps my upper arms, leaning me slightly backward.
“Stop, Timson! I’ll scream—I’ll?—”
“My men will not save you—they’ll want a turn once I’m done.” His yellow teeth are on full display as he smiles down at me. “This has been long overdue.”
I scream and thrash in his hold. Kicking at his shin with my boated feet, Timson dodges my assault and holds me tighter. His hands find the high neck of my gown, and I nearly vomit at the feel of his fingers on my naked skin. I try to twist away, knowing what he intends to do next. I bump against the table, and it rattles as its contents shift.
Timson freezes as he peers over my shoulder. Wrapping a hand around my throat, his grip holds firm as I claw at him. He keeps me pinned as he reaches for a piece of cloth. Unraveling the bloody fabric, I watch as a single silver bullet hits the table with a light thud. I hadn’t bothered cleaning up from last night.
As I watch the realization dawn on Timson’s face, the air shifts and my situation goes from bad to worse. His dark eyes frost over.