Page 11 of His Darkest Desire

Grasping the skirt of the nightgown, she lifted it and followed the stone path into the forest before circling around the building. Damp leaves squished beneath her feet as she picked a careful route, avoiding stones and sticks.

There was no sign of a road, no tire tracks worn through the vegetation. She saw no cars or bicycles, no power lines, no telephone poles.

The hairs on the back of her neck rose, and a shiver ran down her spine.

“Hello?” she called again, her voice echoing through the forest.

Listening, she searched the cottage windows and the spaces between the trees. No response came, and no one showed themselves.

But she sensed someone there. She could almost feel their eyes upon her in a heavy, intense gaze…

“Okay, this is just weird,” she muttered, turning toward the forest. There had to be a path leading back to the road somewhere nearby. How else could whoever lived here have found her? Once she reached the road she could locate her car, her clothes, and most importantly, her phone.

Kinsley took a step forward, hesitating as she glanced at the cottage over her shoulder.

“I just need to find my things and call a tow truck. I can come back and thank them afterwards.”

And she was sure her mother was worried sick.

But she was also barefoot in a thin nightgown in a completely unfamiliar place. No map, no phone, no means of discerning direction. If she was still near the loch, she could follow the downward slope to the water and potentially find her way from there, but there was a chance that this wasn’t anywhere near where she’d crashed. There was a chance she would walk and walk and only end up terribly lost.

Well, more lost than she already was.

Kinsley squeezed the fabric of the nightgown in her fists and released a frustrated huff, blowing a loose strand of hair out of her face. “I guess I’m waiting.”

Returning to the cottage, she sat on one of the chairs in the kitchen, where she passed the time by absently walking her fingers across the tabletop, nibbling on the remaining food, sipping the water, and staring out the window.

Still, there was no sign of anyone inside or out.

There was, however, that persistent sense of being watched. It was so strong that it was almost tangible, and it made her increasingly uneasy—yet oddly intrigued—as the day began to darken and the glow of the crystals on the walls became the main source of light.

Against her better judgment, Kinsley found herself longing for the unseen presence to reveal itself, and that longing triggered an inexplicable spark of excitement and anticipation in her.

Kinsley scrunched her nose.

What is wrong with me?

With an elbow propped on the table and her jaw cupped in her hand, Kinsley drummed her fingers against her cheek. “Why would someone leave a stranger unattended in their home?”

When her eyelids started to droop, and she couldn’t bear to wait any longer, she rose and walked back toward the stairs, meaning to return to the bedroom. She paused as she passed one of the shelves, noticing the rolling pin rack mounted at its edge.

She grabbed one of the rolling pins and tapped it against her palm. The wood was solid and weighty. “Savior or not, this is freaking weird.”

Rolling pin firmly in hand, she returned to the room in which she’d awoken. It had also darkened considerably, with the gently glowing crystals acting as mystical nightlights.

She closed the door and took a step back from it. Without a key in the keyhole, there was no way to engage the lock. Whoever lived here could simply walk right in. Regardless of it being their house, Kinsley wasn’t comfortable with that notion, especially while she was vulnerable in sleep.

They already undressed me.

Creeeeeepy.

Pursing her lips to the side in thought, she scanned the room. Her gaze fell upon the desk chair.

Kinsley grabbed it, carried it to the entrance, and jammed it snuggly against the door. She wasn’t sure how well it would hold, but it’d at least make enough noise to alert her if someone tried to get in.

Tucking the rolling pin beneath the pillow, she crawled onto the bed, slipped her legs under the covers, and lay on her side, staring at the shadows gathering in the room as the last of the daylight faded.

Maybe tomorrow her host would deign to show themselves.

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