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When my fear reached its threshold, running on mere fumes, I crashed. With Maple warming my lap, I managed to sleep the rest of the morning. Passed out in the chair with midday sun on my face and the fire at my feet, I experienced the strongest, deepest nap of my life.

When I woke, Maple was gone, and it was like rising out of thick mud after being buried twenty feet down for centuries. Like I was coming back from the dead, and every inch of me protested to be alive again. I wanted to fall back into that warm sleep. I wanted to close my eyes and shut everything off again, because all I remembered was that something in this waking, living world wanted to hurt me.

Voices came from the entry hall, reminding me why I'd woken and who was here.

I hauled myself out of the chair with iron will, biting back a whimper of protest that my body pushed unbidden to my lips. Shuffling like an old, arthritic grandmother, I made my way to the front door where my friends stood around talking to two uniformed men.

Ben noticed me first and made the introductions. "Rae, this is state trooper Bradly Henson, and this is the game warden, Jeremy Hale."

I forgot their names instantly but nodded politely, and they eyed my arm before the warden asked, "What happened to you?"

I glanced down at it. "I was attacked."

“By what?” the trooper followed up with. He strode over, taking my arm to examine it.

A flush crept up my neck and out to my ears, reminding me that I was rarely touched so gently, let alone fussed over by handsome young men. He looked to be in his late twenties. The young dad type. I was instantly swooned and won over.

"I don't know exactly," I replied, my tongue thick in my mouth like I was still waking up. "It was huge. Had horns. All black. Sort of like a bull, but its front arms weren't hooves. They were talons."

The two men shared incredulous looks. Then the warden asked, "Mind if we take a look around the house first? You three haven't been partying out here, have you?"

Of course... I shot my friends a sharp look. This was exactly what I feared—that no one would believe us, and instead we'd find ourselves suspects of using illegal substances.

No one protested, because how could we? We sat in the living room, entirely silent while the men searched the house. Cupboard and closet doors banged, footsteps thudded throughout, and the only time they spoke was when they were asking what was inside the locked doors throughout the cabin.

"I don't know," I admitted. "The Winters said they're for storage and maintenance, and we're not permitted to go in them."

Fair enough. They continued their search.

When they thought we weren't listening or couldn't hear us, they said in low, soft voices to each other, "They might have been drinking, but the girl's arm is pretty boogered up. We should probably check the woods just to be sure."

"Alright." It sounded like the older gentleman, the warden, acquiesced. "I want to get a look at the odd animal prints I saw outside when we drove up, too."

Riss reached over to give my hand a squeeze. Her hopeful look seemed to say, This is good. This means they'll help us.

I wasn't so sure though.

The officers stopped by in the living room before heading out, letting us know they’d be back after they had a poke around in the woods.

"We really shouldn't be doing this," the warden drawled while tugging on his brown leather gloves. "This is private property after all, and you aren't the owners, but to give you some peace of mind, we'll take a look."

We nodded, opting to be as amenable as possible to get help, even if it wasn’t the help we actually needed. They didn’t believe us yet, so they would have to go into the woods and see the evidence for themselves.

We watched them walk into the tree line past the iced over field, and we waited. Sat by the fireplace, each of us taking turns pacing, we barely said anything as an hour trickled by. With little else to do, we picked at the brunch food Fox abandoned in the kitchen before I chased him into the woods.

Then more hours passed.

The sun crept towards the hilltops, and the shadows grew longer and longer, the trees casting black lines across the entire field.

Now we were all pacing.

When the clock on the mantel struck 4:30 in the evening, the sun winked out entirely behind the trees, and Ben pulled the curtains closed to keep in the heat.

"They're not coming back, are they?" I croaked.

Somber looks met me all around the living room. Only the crackle of the fire and spit of embers answered me, but when I got to my feet—

“Rae, don’t,” Riss exclaimed, jumping to her feet. “You already got hurt today.”