Page 17 of Snatched By the Scarecrow

“It’s real, my eager one,” he purrs. “I’m real. Just as you are real.”

“Prove it to me.”

My heart thuds fast in my chest at the words I didn’t expect to say. I just told a very old murderous harvest god to prove to me that he’s real. How exactly? I want to say I don’t know, but the images in my mind are ones that should be illegal, or at the very least rated XXX.

Silas pulls back just enough so he can lift my chin.

“If I do, do you promise to give your body to me freely, like we agreed? To take everything I give you?”

I swallow the nervous lump in my throat. I should be a smart woman, ask him what exactly he means. But all I can think of is how my body is practically aching for him—needing him in a way I’ve never felt before.

“Will I die?”

He smiles. A wide smile that should be terrifying but is somehow charming. “No, Harper. You will not die. At least, not for a long time.”

“Okay,” I whisper, believing him even though I shouldn’t.

He grips my chin tighter in his grasp. “Say, yes, Silas.”

“Yes, Silas.”

His features turn devilish and my toes curl in the dirt. He releases my chin and steps back.

“Run.”

“What?” I blink up at him.

He looms over me, the strength of him buzzing against my exposed skin.

“I said run, eager one. Before I show you how real I am in front of the dead.”

When I don’t immediately move, his demeanor becomes more ominous, my body pulling tight with need.

He chuckles and tries to snatch me.

My brain logs back online and I take off, his sinister laughter following me through the swaying corn.

Chapter 7

Stalks of corn whip against my cheeks, the cold dirt and debris from the field biting the soles of my feet. I’m not much of a runner, but adrenaline courses through my veins and spurs me forward.

The clouds have cleared from the sky, and the almost full moon lights my path. I bob and weave among plants, pulling in the night air through my lungs. There are no other sounds to alert me that Silas is chasing after me, yet, I know he’s close by.

I run faster, still not believing this is real. It feels real. More real than anything I’ve ever felt before, but it can’t be.

Ten people can’t be dead back at the bonfire. There’s no way I’m being chased by a god through a field. Or that I told him he could prove how real he was to me.

My pussy aches, throbbing in delight at the idea of Silas finally giving me the relief I’ve chased all day. My underwear cling with wetness to my outer lips, and I tell myself that if this is a dream, now is the time to wake up.

I burst into a small clearing in the middle of the field and shut my eyes, sucking in a deep breath of air and then another. When I open them, I’m not met with my bedroom or the morning sun streaming in through my windows, but Silas’s hollow eyes and mouth tilted up in his haunting smile.

I should scream, but I turn to run instead. He grabs me around the waist, pulling my back flush against his front. I struggle, my exposed skin scratching across the harsh burlap of his clothes, and the straw sticking out from beneath.

His wicked chuckle tickles my ear before he speaks. “You can fight if you want, eager one, but I know how much you want me. How you’ve been aching for me.”

His other hand cups my pussy, and I bite my cheek not to moan.

“Were you watching me?” I gasp, as he holds my sex tighter.