Chapter 18
Chapter
Eighteen
Harlow was already halfway to the door before I could catch up to her. Corbin was right there with me before I shoved him back.
“I’ve got this,” I snarled at him. The wild look in my eyes forced him to take a step back.
Just as Harlow got to the front door, my hand wrapped around her elbow, gripping it firmly enough to stop her from walking out but not enough to harm her.
“Hold up a damn second!” I spun her around to face me. “Whatever you are thinking, there’s more to it. It’s… complicated.”
Her hand dug into her bag, and she pulled out a book so abruptly that a tube of lip gloss and a random receipt came tumbling out with it. As for the book itself, I instantly recognized it. It had been ages since I had last laid my eyes on it.
Slamming the book into my chest, she spat out her words like venom.
“Is that what happened to your family, too? Buried in the corn field like fucked up fertilizer? It’s a little damn convenient that the day of the first fall festival, they all keel over.
Don’t you think?” Her voice shook, betraying the sense of misplaced rage and rightful fear.
Fuck, the kitten’s claws are out.
Her accusation cut deeper past my well-crafted defenses than I thought anybody was capable of.
Behind me, I sensed Corbin’s aggravating ability to become more still than the town’s precious fall festival statue.
The urge to let go of my control and unleash the fury that festered from that day was barely contained.
The violence always brewed like a storm about to split the sky in half, thanks to the Council never answering for their transgressions.
It was nothing short of a monumental miracle that I clutched onto a semblance of restraint.
Before I became this monstrous version of myself, I had never considered taking a life. Even after destroying ninety-eight souls in horrific ways, each one succumbed to death only during the hunt. Never outside of those walls of corn, never outside of this festival of fatalities.
My hand clamped down over Harlow’s, pinning it and the book to my chest. Between ragged breaths, I leaned in until our foreheads nearly touched, and she was unable to avoid looking into my eyes. Our heated breaths mingled in the small space between us.
“Don’t, Harlow. Just. Don’t. If you want to know what happened that day, sit your ass down and shut up. But if you would rather believe that I’d betray those I consider family—those I consider mine—then walk out that damn door.”
I ripped my family’s documented demise out from under her hand and tossed it down onto a small bench by the boot mat next to the door. The slap of the book meeting wood cracked loudly in the stifling atmosphere of the room.
We stared at each other in a tense standoff that lasted too many ticks of the clock. The choice remained hers, though.
Eventually, she pulled on her arm, and I immediately released my hold on her and waited. Waited to see if she would run or stay for the hard truths that were due to be exposed.
The pulse in her neck still jumped visibly beneath the surface, but she managed to calmly turn and head over to the far end of the leather sofa.
Reluctantly, she took her seat on the edge of the cushion, visibly prepared to bolt if need be.
All the while, her eyes never looked away from mine.
I wasn’t the only one waiting. She was, too.
Those stubborn emeralds waited while she laid down the challenge for me to give the bare truth.
“Good.” It was the closest thing to relief I could muster with the height of emotions still thick in the air.
I paced back and forth in the narrow space between the coffee table and where she sat, trying to grasp the courage to bring up all that had been lost. Painful truths, violent memories, and unexplainable reality.
As I looked for my words, Corbin kept a constant presence behind the sofa. Here and available, but not crowding either of us.
“When I woke up on my cross frame, my family was already dead. Whatever ritualistic magic the Town Council got itself into had already taken root. Their hunger for power and prestige overrode anything else.”
I turned to look at Harlow, who sat rigidly but listening. Despite my best effort to hide the pain from my voice, it wavered under the strain.
“My father had refused to sign over his financial interests in the properties he owned in town. Anyone who would have inherited ownership was eliminated. Even the mayor’s own son, my sister’s husband, wasn’t safe from their greed and thirst for control over Falston.”
Her face softened, a thread of guilt drawing her brows together.
“I’m sorry.” The apology offered both her condolences and regret for her choice of words moments ago.
My Adam’s apple bobbed as I swallowed past the knot in my throat at the unexpected soothing sensation that her acknowledgment provided. It shouldn’t have meant anything at all. Hell, I wish it didn’t.
But it did, and it stirred up something in me that hadn’t been felt in almost a century.
Fear.
Fear of being seen. Fear of suffering loss. Fear of being unworthy.
Refusing to linger on the sensation of something unfurling in my chest, perilously close to human vulnerability, I continued my explanation of the events that have been taking place since that fateful day.
“Corbin and I barely had time to come to terms with what we were before nightfall,” I said as my mind drifted back to the very first hunt we participated in.
Mayor Polk stood on the platform, drawing a name from a hollowed-out pumpkin. The slip of paper unfolded in his hands in front of the whole crowd of Falston’s inhabitants.
“Our guest of honor for the inaugural corn maze chase is Miss Maribelle Miller!” he announced gleefully while applause and cheers erupted in the courtyard.
Corbin and I stood at the edge of the fields, looking at one another, unaware of what was in store for the three of us.
Waving vigorously for Maribelle to come up onto the platform next to him, she looked as uncomfortable as we both felt. Once she was at his side, the mayor’s hand clamped down on her shoulder, fingers digging in enough to make her grimace. Preventing her from fleeing.
Her name wasn’t coincidental. If the Town Council had known Corbin witnessed their chanting nonsense, they must have known Maribelle had overseen it as well.
“Now, before we get ahead of ourselves, let’s go over some rules for this exciting event, shall we?” Meeting our eyes from across the courtyard, he flashed a smile akin to a wolf that still had the lamb’s blood dripping from his incisors.
He turned to face Maribelle, using grand hand gestures while explaining the event with half-truths and bold-faced lies.
“In an hour’s time, you will enter the twists and turns of Falston’s newly-designed corn maze.
Now, don’t be fooled. The maze is far larger than it looks from the outside.
You will have all the time you need—until dawn shall you need it—to make it to the end.
While inside the maze, you will encounter many challenges and obstacles.
” The bastard described it like it was some childish funhouse that should provoke excitement instead of terror.
“If you make it to the maze’s exit, you will be rewarded with a grand prize. It will be with the greatest honors that you will light the festival’s bonfire, signaling the conclusion of this incredible event!”
Crossing my arms in front of my chest, an unsettling sensation prickled at parts of me unseen. Rage collided with a taste for bloodshed and other savory things. My conscience was at war with the instinct that the curse hung over me.
The newest Council Member came up on the other side of Maribelle, smiling with far too many teeth exposed and as crooked as he was.
“Now, Mayor Polk, let’s not forget one important caveat. To keep things interesting, we have elected two anonymous citizens to keep you moving through the maze. If they catch up with you, the chase is over, and we can all hope for a winner next year.”
He smirked before adding, “But you’re a smart girl, I’m sure you’ll find your way through.”
The festivities continued with growing excitement amongst the townsfolk. The clock began ticking down to a night that would set the precedent for future hunts.
“Why didn’t you just expose or kill the Councilmembers?” Harlow asked innocently enough.
A chuckle escaped before I could hold back, though it lacked genuine humor. “If it were that easy, kitten, trust me when I say we would have already done so. The magic binding us to our fates is not so kind.”
Corbin chimed in as he leaned forward against the backrest of the sofa. “Whatever dark magic is being tapped into protects the Town Council members and their loved ones. It’s all part of their induction year after year.”
She frowned as she let it sink in that this was far beyond basic political corruption. These were dark and twisted powers being wielded over the entire town.
“Doesn’t anybody in the town wonder why nobody is ever seen after the chase? There can’t be that many idiots in this town,” she noted.
Shrugging, I didn’t have a good answer for her. “Magic and curses this dark and pervasive are finicky things. Most people believe that they ran off, moved away, or were attacked by animals. Or some simply forget they existed at all.”
Hesitantly, she asked the next logical question. “What happened to Maribelle?”
I moved to take a seat across from her on the coffee table, resting my elbows on my knees as I leaned forward.
“She entered the maze. We left her alone for as long as we could, we tried to fight the urge to chase. The higher the moon rose, the less we had control over ourselves. At first, it was a basic desire to pursue. Next came lust to indulge in carnal sins. Then, ultimately, something darker: bloodthirst.” A small pause. “It’s always the same year after year.”
“So, the Council chooses someone to sacrifice?” she asked in evident disbelief that any of this was real.
At that point, Corbin shifted to take a seat next to her. “Sometimes. They defer to us first. If we refuse to give them a name to rig for the event, they select someone on their own.”
Suddenly, realization came over her as she looked between the two of us. “They’re drawing the name tonight for tomorrow’s chase.” Her voice rose with an edge of panic. “Does that mean you’ve given them a name?”
Heavy silence.
“Don’t freak out,” Corbin began like an idiot.
Harlow’s face paled as her breathing even stopped—immediate freaking out clear as day flashing across her face.
I grabbed her hands, not to restrain but to reassure. “I’m going to need you to trust us. You’re different, Harlow. Fuck, I’ve known it since I saw you walk out of that bookstore.”
Corbin’s hand wrapped around the side of her neck, thumb caressing the nape as he murmured against her ear. “If you think for one fucking second I’d risk my only mate in this world, you’re wrong.”
Finally, she exhaled a shuddering breath. “You just told me that no one survives the corn maze hunt, and I’m supposed to trust that I won’t end up like all the others?”
I squeezed her hands gently. “Look at me. We’ve never had a shifter enter the maze. We’ve never had Corbin’s lifelong mate be a participant. The two of you are connected on another level.”
“Why risk me at all?” She stared at us incredulously.
Watching Corbin struggle through the reality that we were taking a risk — a massive one — he finally rasped out. “Because if you get out of that maze and light the bonfire? It breaks the curse that shackles us here, the curse that dooms us to repeat this fucking hunt every year.”
With lingering skepticism, she turned and looked at Corbin, “How do you know that? How sure are you? Because if it’s just on a hope and a whim—”
I interjected. “It’s not. We’ve had almost a century of trying to exact our revenge on the Council. We may have learned a thing or two over the years.” A wry smile graced my lips, and a dangerous glint shone in my eyes at the hope of finally getting retribution on those who had crossed us.
Releasing her hands, I pushed myself up onto my feet and grinned. “Besides, you seemed quite capable of escaping me in the fields once, kitten. You really think you can’t do it again?”
I sure as hell hoped she would. For all our sakes.
Beyond the surface of her green hues, something shifted. Her inner feline predator appeared to rise to the challenge with a dangerous confidence in wanting to taste success.