5. Stella
5
STELLA
T he tavern is solemn tonight.
It matches my mood. The few patrons lingering at the bar barely speak to each other. It’s been quiet all evening. Word had spread about the missing wolfman, and many had decided to stay in rather than risk their chances with him on the loose.
If only I could tell them he is far from this town.
It is ridiculous to be sad over Ciaryn. I barely knew him for more than a few hours, yet part of me hoped he would change his mind and return. However, when I woke up hours later, and he hadn’t come back, I knew I’d never see the wolfman again. As the sun set, I had made peace with it.
Despite my selfish wants, it is best he left when he did.
When I arrived this evening, Old Bill had told me the news and how desperate the hunters—especially Timson—were to find him. My stomach sinks at the thought of what he had planned for Ciaryn. The mounted heads of animals on the tavern's wall make my skin crawl. The idea that Ciaryn’s was meant to join them nearly makes me lose the contents of my stomach.
As the final two patrons pay for their ale and slip out into the night, Old Bill emerges from the backroom.
“Why don’t you go ahead and head home, Stella? I don’t think anyone else is coming tonight. You shouldn't be out late with that creature on the loose.”
“Are you sure?” I ask, wiping up spilled ale on the counter. “I don’t mind staying.”
Old Bill nods.
“I’m sure. I’ll lock up after you leave.”
Usually, I’d love the chance to leave early, but I know an empty cottage awaits me. Again, my thoughts travel to the wolfman. Perhaps I have just been on my own for too long, and his brief companionship had given me the connection I’ve longed for. He was grumpy and growly, but I had liked that about him. Ciaryn made me feel safe and intrigued me in ways no human man ever has.
As I collect my cloak from the hook and slip into the cold night air, I wonder where he is. As I journey back to my cottage, I can’t help but hope he’s there waiting for me. The fantasy plays out. One in which he’s waiting for me at my small kitchen table saying he’s changed his mind, and well—I don’t know exactly what will come after that. The thought of never seeing him again tears at my heart. How can you miss someone you barely know?
My despair only worsens as my small cottage comes into view. I should’ve lit a candle before leaving so it’s not dark inside. The last bits of sunset have already bled from the sky, and The Woods look particularly ominous this evening.
Finding the key in my pocket, I put it in the door and turn the lock.
There is a soft rustling at my back, followed by a deep growl. My blood runs cold, and I slowly turn. My knees nearly buckle as I take in the formidable figures standing there.
Timson is at the front with a large hunting rifle strapped at his back. At his back are five other armed hunters and two vicious dogs, restrained by leather leashes. Foaming saliva pours from the corners of their snarling mouths.
My hand flies to my chest.
“Oh, Timson, you scared me,” I say, leaning back against the door.
He drinks from his flask before discarding it. Red rims his beady eyes, and sweat collects along his brow.
“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 searching The Woods all 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 to The 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.
“You fucking bitch. It was here!” His hand around my throat tightens. My fingernails shred his skin, but his grip never loosens. “I’m going to kill you. You hear me? Kill you!”
His other hand wraps around my throat as well, and my breathing becomes entirely restricted. I fight to stay awake and to keep fighting. Darkness dances around the edges of my vision. The deadly look in Timson’s eyes tells me there is no stopping him.
I cannot believe this is how my story ends. I escaped certain death only to find it at the hands of another man. There are so many things I should’ve done to avoid this, but it’s pointless to dwell on them now. I have moments left before I’m gone. Perhaps it is the lack of air, but my heart reaches towards Ciaryn. If only he had stayed. If only?—
A low growl cuts through the air—deeper than the sounds from the hunting dogs. At first, I think I’ve imagined it, but Timson releases his hold, and I suck down precious lungfuls of air. He whirls around towards my open door and slings the gun off his back.
“On second thought,” he snarls, gripping my arm and pulling me out towards the front of the cottage. “I’m going to make you watch me slaughter that beast.”
Dragging me out of my house with force, he tosses me onto the damp grass of the front lawn. My head still feels cloudy as I try to gulp down more air. Timson marches towards the other hunters, and they each grip their guns.
“Spread out and find that fucking beast!” Timson commands, training his gun toward The Woods .
The hunting dogs are let off their leashes. They snap and snarl towards the treeline. A deep growl permeates the air just as they disappear into the darkness. Rushed footsteps charge back toward us, and the two hunting dogs whimper as they run in the opposite direction, tails tucked firmly between their legs. A few hunters shout at them, but they are long gone.
“You!” snarls Timson. “Get closer.”
One of the hunters—whose name I never bothered to learn—swallows before training his gun on the forest's edge. He ambles over, his boots dragging along the damp grass. The Woods seem impossibly large as he reaches the first row of trees. After a couple more steps, he pauses, lowering his gun and turning back towards us.
“There’s nothing—” The words break off on a wet gurgle as blood spills from his mouth.
The hunter looks down in time to see a clawed hand emerge from his chest with his heart clasped in its palm. Pulling back, his body drops like a doll’s in a clatter of twisted limbs. Above him stands Ciaryn, his eyes like two golden fires. His ruby lips pull back in a snarl. He tosses the organ towards the other hunters, and it lands with a wet slap.
My heart thunders in my chest at the sight of him. He’s returned to me. He’s?—
“Shoot it!” Timson yells.
The sound of bullets raining echoes around me. Screaming, I cover my ears and drop further onto the wet grass. It is hard to see in the darkness. My eyes wildly search for Ciaryn—needing to know he is okay. There is a streak of movement from the corner of my eye. I barely register it before a hunter is snatched off their feet with a loud yell. The others turn towards the noise only for a few moments later, another to be grabbed.
The sounds of firing guns grow quiet as Timson becomes the only one left. He yells as he goes to reload his weapon—his trembling hands cause silver bullets to fall to the grass. A soft whooshing sound echoes through the air, quickly followed by another and then another. Three round objects roll toward Timson, and he freezes.
There at his feet are the severed heads of the rest of his hunting party. I can’t help but whimper at the brutal sight. Timson whirls on me. I scramble away as he stomps towards me, but he’s too quick. Brandishing a knife, he hauls me up against his chest and presses the blade to my throat.
From the treeline, Ciaryn emerges, prowling on all fours as blood drips from his mouth. I whimper as Timson presses the blade harder against me. My hands wrap around his arm, but he is stronger than I am.
“I’ll kill her, beast. Just let me go, or I’ll slit her throat.”
Ciaryn’s eyes narrow. They connect with mine, and I will him not to act rashly. Timson has lost it, and I know one wrong move with the knife will mean my death. The blade presses harder against me, and I’m surprised he hasn’t broken skin.
Ciaryn whines before turning and disappearing into the darkness. Timson pushes me to the ground and reaches for his discarded gun. He fires rapidly in Ciaryn’s direction.
“No!” I scream.
Timson doesn’t stop; he just keeps firing and firing. A flash of movement dances at the corner of my eyes. I turn in time to see Ciaryn emerge from behind my cottage. I have no idea how he moved so quickly, but I don’t get long to consider it. Not as Ciaryn launches, claws extended, and locks his jaws around Timson’s neck with a satisfying snap. The man screams, dropping his gun as scarlet pours down his body and soaks his clothes.
Ciaryn locks his claws around his arms and twists Timson to look up at him.
“Die, human,” he snarls into his face. “For touching her against her will, for daring to hurt her—you will understand the meaning of pain.”
There is a wet snap sound as Ciaryn embeds his claws in Timson’s arms. The hunter screams and soaks the front of his trousers. He thrashes and yells, but it is of no use. With one mighty tug, Timson’s arms are ripped from his body and tossed onto the overgrown grass. Blood pours from his shoulders and soaks the ground. His mouth is parted, but no sound comes out. The hunter’s body twitches slightly before going completely still.
The night air is quiet as death surrounds my cottage. My fingers sink into the wet grass as I take in the gruesome sight. Such violence should repulse me—scare me—but when Ciaryn’s eyes meet mine, it takes all my restraint not to throw myself into his arms.
His approach is tentative as if expecting me to recoil from him. I merely reach for him, allowing the hands that have just slaughtered so many to help me to my feet. His pine scent calms me and sets my blood on fire.
“You saved me,” I whisper, staring up at him. “How’d you get here so fast? I thought you’d?—”
“Left?” he interrupts. “I tried to—ran for hours before turning back. I had to see you again.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
My hand slowly reaches up and cups his cheek. His soft fur slips between my fingers.
“Well, I’m glad you came back. Are you hurt?”
Ciaryn shakes his head. “Are you?”
“No, Timson, he—well—you stopped him before anything could happen.”
A low growl slips from his lips as his hands reach for my waist. Their warm weight soothes my fragile nerves.
“I’ll always protect you. It’s the least I could do after?—”
I wrinkle my nose. “You don’t have to repay my healing with personal protection.”
“It’s not repayment, Stella. I want to keep you safe—need to.”
The heat in his gaze burns me alive. Warmth spreads along my cheeks. Even though being in his arms is wonderful, I can’t help but focus on the carnage littering my front lawn.
“I’ll have to move. I’m sure people will come looking for them.” Taking his hand, I lead him towards the door. “We should get inside. More could already be on their way.”
Ciaryn’s hand tightens in mine.
“I won’t leave you to deal with this mess alone.”
I nod, my eyes snagging at the dried blood on his mouth.
“Come,” I say. “Let me clean you off.”
Just like the previous night, he settles onto my small wooden chair. After locking the door, I find a clean rag, wet it, and clean off the blood along his mouth and hands. Moving to his chest, I’m happy to see his wounds fully healed. Once I’m satisfied he’s clean, I drop the rag onto the kitchen table. My eyes take in the previous night’s mess, and everything hits me at once.
Oh gods , how terrible tonight could’ve gone if Ciaryn hadn’t shown up. If Timson hadn’t been stopped, he would’ve—I would’ve—tears pool in my eyes and fall down my cheeks. My strength leaves me as the fear from this evening washes over me. Before I can clatter to the floor, Ciaryn is there. He catches me against his chest, and I curl against him.
With steady strides, he walks us towards the side of my bed. His warmth leaves me only momentarily as he kneels before me and unlaces my boots. My numb fingers find the lacings of my dress and undo them. Tossing the heavy gown over my head, Ciaryn rids me of my socks. In a daze, I fall against the soft sheets.
Gathering the quilt in his hands, he gently pulls it over me.
“Sleep, Stella. I’ll keep watch from the floor.”
Before he can turn away, my hand snags his wrist. I don’t want to be alone in this bed. Not after tonight—not ever. Ciaryn makes me feel safe. His scent and warmth are a comfort—one I desperately need right now.
“Stay,” I whisper, tugging him towards me. “Please.”
Ciaryn looks conflicted for a moment. I tug at his hand again, and he pulls back the sheets. I slide back to give him room. His pine scent invades my lungs. The evening chill is remedied when his warmth seeps into my side.
I’ve never been so forward in my life, but I can’t bring myself to care. My arms wrap around his strong middle, and I snuggle deeper against his soft fur. His claws skim up and down my back, as he growls softly. The sound soothes me almost as much as his presence.
Like last night, I feel safe—even more so now that I am in his arms. The horrors of this evening finally leave my mind. Something unfurls in my chest—permanent and all-consuming. A fresh wave of warmth spreads throughout my body. Pressing my cheek to his chest, I let the rhythmic sound of his heartbeat lull me to sleep.