17. Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Sixteen
Cassidy
Everything is oddly quiet as I exit the shower. Well, was forced to exit the shower. The water turned off. Thank God I’d at least washed the soap off of me and was just spending a few minutes in quiet under the water. The cabin is dark, except for three candles in the bedroom. I try flicking on a light, but it doesn’t turn on.
What the fuck?
“Noah? The electricity is down.”
No answer.
“Noah?”
Shit.
I grab some clothes from my drawers, pulling on a t-shirt, some sweats, socks and a thick sweater. Grabbing a candle, I start heading downstairs. On the floor are arrows that point to the open cabin door. Ooooh, I get it now… I head towards the door, only to see a note pinned to the frame with his hunting knife.
Start running little minx… if you dare.
My heart pounds in my chest despite the fact that I know I asked for this. I want to see him at his most feral. I want to feel him as he takes me in that state. I need to feel powerless.
To surrender control to something more. Something deeper.
Taking a deep breath, I step out into the night. The air is crisp and cold, but I barely notice as adrenaline spikes through my veins. The wind is fierce, and I shiver as it cuts through the fabric of my sweater. My heart pounds even harder as I head in the direction of the falls, the flickering candle casting shadows that dance wildly along the gravel path. My hand cups around the flame, trying to keep it alight, but it’s no use, one small gust and it dies.
Throwing the candle to the side, I start jogging. It’s silent except for my own breathing, but I know he’s out there somewhere, watching me.
Stalking me.
I know this area well enough now to navigate even in the dark, but there’s an edge of danger that makes everything seem amplified. Twigs snap beneath my feet, and somewhere in the distance a branch cracks loudly.
How long before he catches up?
The thought sends a thrill through me, and I break into a sprint. It’s exhilarating—the fear, the anticipation—and I push myself faster until my breathing comes in ragged gasps.
The clouds are thick, blotting out any hope of moonlight to guide me. A split-second decision and I veer off toward the narrow path leading back to where we watched the stars last night. It’s not far now, if I can just make it there—
A rustle from behind stops me dead in my tracks.
I turn, holding my breath.
Nothing.
Straining my eyes to see, all there is around me is darkness. The clouds shift for a moment, the moon lighting up the path and I take off running.
Then another sound—a low whistle from somewhere to my left. It echoes through the trees, and a shiver races up my spine.
He’s close.
My legs are getting tired as I run, but I keep pushing harder.
Then I see him, a shadow in the night as he steps out from behind a tree in front of me. The mask is terrifying and beautiful, the white hearts bright against the dark.
I let out a scream that’s half surprise, half excitement before spinning on my heels and darting back toward the cabin. My feet pound against the ground, each step bringing him that much closer.
He doesn’t make a sound as he follows, but I can feel him gaining on me. It’s relentless, his pursuit—a force of nature that demands surrender. My breath comes in short, desperate bursts as I race down the trail.
The cabin comes into view, and I know he’s right behind me; I can sense his presence like a pulse in the night.
“Cassidy,” he calls out, his voice dark and playful.
My heart leaps at the sound of my name, and I push myself even harder for those last few steps. I reach the porch and throw myself inside.
But it’s too late. He tackles me to the ground just as I cross through the door, pinning me beneath him with crushing certainty.
“No!” I gasp in protest as he holds me down.
“Yes,” he growls, the mask so close to my face that all I see are those wild eyes burning through it.
I squirm beneath him, trying to wrench free. He lets me struggle without loosening his grip—lets me fight until my muscles give out and we’re both panting from exertion.
He grabs my ankles and drags me across the floor, dumping me outside on the moss before he descends, pulling off my sweater and my shirt before hoisting me up and over his shoulder. He lumbers towards the tree just ahead and sets me down as I try swinging. Grabbing my hand, he loops the rope around my wrist, throwing the other end around a branch before grabbing my other hand and tying it.
I’m strung up, my flesh goose bumping as the cold hits it, my nipples hard. He growls, his hands rough against my skin as he cups my breast, palming it before ripping down my sweats.
“No underwear? Naughty girl.”
I squirm against the ropes, my body involuntarily arching toward him as he steps back to admire his work.
“Untie me,” I demand.
He laughs low and hungry, the sound sending shockwaves through me. “I don’t think I will,” he says, slipping out of his clothes until he’s naked in the moonlight.
My mouth goes dry at the sight of him, and a moan escapes my lips. He moves with deliberate slowness until he’s pressed against me, his cock hard against my stomach. My skin burns everywhere he touches as he kisses a trail along my throat.
I gasp, losing myself in the intensity of it all. In the wild thrill of being caught and trussed up like this.
His hands roam down my body, fingers dipping between my legs to feel how wet I am for him. “Fucking soaked,” he murmurs, stroking me until I’m trembling and panting his name.
“Noah…” It comes out a plea.
He brings that hand up to his mask, lifting the bottom, licking me off his fingers. A groan rumbles through his chest.
My body betrays all reason and presses into him as he slips a finger inside me, then two.
“Yes!” The word tears from my throat as I grind against his hand. The binding on my wrists is tight enough to hold firm but not hurt; just enough to leave marks that remind us both who I belong to by the end of this.
His thumb finds my clit and he works it until I’m about to explode before he pulls back and I moan in protest.
“Fuck, no, don’t do this to me,” I cry out.
“Oh, little minx, I’ll be doing so much more. You’re going to be a wet mess by the time I’m done with you.”
He moves behind me, spreading my cheeks as he wets his finger inside my pussy before bringing it up and pushing against my back entrance. The sensation is new, burning ever so slightly before it feels good. He reaches around to flick my clit as he slowly moves his finger in and out. I don’t know what feels better and I’m helpless to do anything but let him do what he wants to me.
“Fuck, Cass, I’m going to come just feeling you.” He pulls his finger out and I feel the blunt end of his cock sliding down my ass before it nudges my pussy.
I push my ass back, trying to force him into me.
He grips my hips and laughs, pulling back just enough to drive me insane before thrusting forward. The force makes my arms strain against the ropes as he fills me. I cry out as he sets a punishing rhythm—each thrust sending shockwaves through me, each desperate gasp leaving me more breathless than the last.
I’m right there, on the edge, but he pulls out and leaves me empty and shaking.
“No! Please! Oh god, please don’t stop.”
“Beg for it,” he says, his voice rough with need.
“I’m begging,” I cry, tears seeping from my eyes. “Please, Noah, please.”
His mouth is at my ear, his breath hot against my skin. I can feel him so close, so hard it’s almost painful not to have him inside me. “I want to hear you beg .”
“Fuck me!” I scream. “Please!”
He lets out a growl that’s almost feral as he plunges into me again—harder, deeper, wild and relentless. His fingers find my clit as he drags us both toward the edge of oblivion.
The world goes white around the edges as I come apart on his cock. My pulse pounds in my ears as I shatter around him, every nerve firing in blinding ecstasy until all that’s left is his name echoing on my lips.
“Cassidy!” He groans as he comes inside me. “Such a perfect little slut for me.”
I nod, my body struggling to stay rigid enough not to dangle from my wrists.
He notices my wince and steps forward, cupping my chin and kissing me with bruising force. “I’ll let you down in just a second. There’s one small thing I need to do first.”
Bending down, he grabs his jeans, fishing around in the pocket before pulling out a survival knife.
Oh fuck… no…
“What are you doing, Noah?”
“What I promised I’d do, Cassidy.” He flicks it open, pulling off his mask as his free hand searches along my arm for the birth control implant. He grins when he feels the bump. “This will sting, but I promise I’ll make it better.”
He slices into my skin quickly and I release a scream as it burns and stings, blood pooling on my arm before he’s fishing it out, snapping it between his fingers and dropping it on the ground. “There. Much better. Let’s get you down, baby.”
He unties the ropes, and I rear back and slam my fist into his face. “You motherfucker! You didn’t warn me, didn’t prepare me! Nothing!”
He chuckles, wiping the blood from his split lip on his shirt sleeve. “I deserved that, but don’t make it a habit. You won’t get in another shot. Come, I have whiskey and glue, let’s patch that up.”
Picking me up, he cradles me as he carries me towards the cabin, not bothering to pick up our clothes. I help out by opening the door and he sets me down on the couch, rushing to grab a blanket and draping it over me as he gets the fire going.
“I’m gonna go out and turn the electricity back on.” He says, leaving me for a couple of minutes before returning.
“About that whiskey…” I say. “And don’t think I’ve forgiven you. I’m not ready for babies, Noah. I’ve only just come around to the idea of living as your wild forest queen.”
“You’ll change your mind.” He strokes my hair, admiring the deep red stain of blood on my arm. “You always do.”
“Go get me some whiskey and a bandage.”
He heads to the kitchen and grabs two tumblers, pouring three fingers of booze in each before rummaging through the cupboards and coming back with a first aid kit.
I’m clutching my arm against my chest when he sits down beside me, handing me a glass. The liquid burns as it goes down; not as much as the slice in my arm did, though.
“Give me that. Gonna sting,” he says, taking my arm and dabbing it with alcohol. I hiss and he chuckles again. “Told you it would sting.” He cleans up the blood with practiced ease, then applies the skin glue to seal it shut, pressing gauze against it before wrapping it in a bandage.
“If this leaves a scar…”
“It will,” he interrupts. “And you’ll wear it proudly.”
“You’re lucky I asked for this life. You’d be in jail right now if I hadn’t come around.”
He grins, “Oh minx, no jail can hold me. And I’d find you if I had to burn the whole thing down.”
“Lucky me,” I deadpan, but there’s an undercurrent of affection in my voice now.
“I think so.” He pulls me into his lap, tucking the blanket around me and kissing my forehead. “How’s your arm?”
“Hurts,” I say truthfully, snuggling against him.
“I’ll make you forget about that soon enough.”
We sit there with our whiskey, watching as the fire grows in the fireplace. It’s comfortable.
Natural.
As if we’ve been doing this forever. As if it’s the only thing we were ever meant to do.
Maybe it is.
I finish my drink and let the warmth seep into me, feeling drowsy and content in a way I never thought possible.
“You’re a real piece of work,” I mumble, eyes growing heavy as I drift off in his arms. “But I love you anyway.”
His dark laugh is the last thing I hear before sleep drags me under.
It’s still early when I wake. Noah is asleep beside me, holding me tight against him like he thinks I’ll vanish if he lets go for even a second. His face is relaxed, the usual intensity replaced by something almost gentle. It’s more than I can take this early in the morning.
I wriggle out from his grasp as carefully as I can, trying not to wake him. My arm throbs, but it’s manageable—especially after seeing what Dana went through. My god… seeing her like that was a shock, but not nearly as much as finding out how much I wanted to be with this madman after it all.
And that was the biggest shock of all.
I grab his t-shirt off the floor and slip it over my head before heading into the kitchen. There’s still blood on the hem and that in itself is enough of a warning about what this life will be like.
But if it means being with him—completely, without restraint—then maybe the darkness isn’t so terrifying after all.
What does terrify me is how quickly I’ve adapted to all of this. How natural it feels even when everything should be screaming at me to run far and fast. How alive I feel when I’m with him.
That’s the real danger.
I start a pot of coffee, moving quietly so I don’t wake him yet. There’s something about this morning—about the quiet before I start my usual shenanigans—that I want to savor for just a little longer.
The smell of coffee rouses him, and by the time I’ve poured our mugs he’s standing behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me close. “Morning,” he says, his voice heavy with sleep and satisfaction.
“Morning.” I lean back against him, feeling warmth spread from where our bodies touch. “Coffee?”
“Mmmm,” he presses his lips to my neck. “And then some.”
“You’re insatiable.”
“For you? Always.” He kisses my shoulder before taking a mug from my hands.
We sit at the kitchen table, our legs tangled together beneath it as we drink the steaming brew. I’m buzzing with caffeine and adrenaline by the time we finish, the pain in my arm barely a blip on the radar of everything else I feel.
“So, how are you feeling this morning?” Noah asks.
It surprises me. He never asks me how I am. It’s domestic.
Sweet.
“Good, actually. Hoping we can go get me started on my job. You know, before the place falls apart now that there’s no receptionist anymore.”
He chuckles. “I’ve already got the paperwork in the system. Dana is taking a nice long vacation, and no one will question it because well… I own the place.”
I eye him and start laughing until I see he’s serious.
“Of course you do.” It doesn’t even surprise me because it all makes total sense.
I truly have become the forest princess.
And the thought of ruling these paths beside him makes me feel some kind of way.
Like how I would have ever managed to walk away from all of this without regretting it for the rest of my life.
But I didn’t. I chose right, and with Noah’s hand wrapped around mine as the sun starts shining, a smile graces my face.
Happiness is what you choose to make of it, and I choose this.
Right here.
With my soul mate.
If you’d like more of Noah and Cassidy, sign up to my newsletter for a bonus chapter!
There’s a little bundle of joy involved, if you get my drift.
Find the rest of the series here