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I’m so consumed with the thoughts spinning in my head I don’t notice when the woods fall quiet. I barely acknowledge a small flock of sparrows as they erupt from a nearby tree.

It isn’t until I feel a prickle on the back of my neck, like the tip of a needle being dragged over my skin, that my attention returns to the present and my surroundings.

I know this feeling, this creeping sensation like bugs crawling on my flesh. I’m being watched. The stare has weight, like stones pelting my body. I felt Conall in the woods night before last, but it wasn’t like this. Whoever it is… their intentions aren’t good. Their emotions seem to waft on the wind. Malignant. Malevolent. Dark.

I make a show of leaning down and picking a handful of wildflowers, my body tensing as I try to ascertain where they’re hiding. I don’t want them to know I feel them. Not until I’m close enough to safety to run.

Placing the flowers in my basket, I begin to circle back toward the cottage, pausing to pick flowers here and there. All the while, my focus is on the presence nearby. I can almost pinpoint their location by the miasma of anger and loathing surrounding them.

They’re behind me and to my left. Not too close, but not far enough that I can escape if I sprint away right now.

As I make my way toward the cottage, I can feel them closing the distance. There’s a tension in the air, gathering into a knot of shadow and darkness just out of my sight.

The watcher is preparing to make their move. I know it.

I’m barely breathing as my footsteps quicken, trying to increase the distance between us…

… until a stick cracks like a shot in the trees.

I gasp and look over my shoulder, my eyes locking on the shape of a man lunging behind a tree. He’s close. Too close.

All pretense of unawareness is abandoned. I grip my basket tightly as I sprint through the trees, no longer trying to hide the fact I’m on my way back to the house.

Heavy feet pound behind me. My watcher no longer attempts to be silent as he runs toward me. The sounds of his footfalls and the harsh, guttural sounds of his breathing are right behind me.

I drop the basket as I leap over a fallen tree, no longer trying to remain on the easiest path through the woods. Instead, I’m aiming for the quickest route to the cottage. Branches tear at my hair and clothes as I force my way through the brush beneath the canopy of trees. My skin burns where the branches scratch me, but I don’t slow. I can only hope Hunter and Conall didn’t head into town while I’ve been gone.

I know in my bones they’ll protect me if they are still there.

I crest a hill and see the cottage in the distance. I’m close enough for them to hear me now. I hope.

“Conall! Hunter!” I cry out.

My feet nearly tangle in my skirts as I dash down the hill. I don’t slow, only hike my dress higher with one hand as I lengthen my stride. The man is closing in, his breath coming in quick pants as he draws nearer. I can almost feel it on the back of my neck.

“Help!” I scream.

A loud snarl echoes through the trees, coming from the cottage. Relief washes through me, but I know I can’t stop yet. I keep running toward the sound, hoping Conall will meet me on the way.

I don’t dare glance back because the rasp of the man’s breathing is even closer. When something brushes the back of my dress, I know it’s his hand.

The sound of two large men crashing through the forest greets me as I cut through the narrow space between two trees, the bark scraping my arm as I dive through the gap. The steps behind me falter, and I know he can’t fit through. Still, he’s far too close, even though he has to go around the tree now.

“Conall, Hunter, I’m over here!” I cry out, hoping my voice will lead them to me.

A howl cuts through the air, followed by a vicious growl. I’m panting so loudly now that I can no longer hear the man behind me, but I don’t dare stop. Not until a huge wolf and an enraged woodsman burst through the trees right in front of me.

I crash to a stop against Hunter’s chest. “He’s… behind me. A man… chasing… me.” I gasp for breath between the words, trying to force them out.

My legs nearly give out as the edges of my vision grow black.

“Go,” Hunter barks out to the wolf. “I’ll stay with her.”

I hear the animal’s answering growl before he takes off in the direction I came from.

“Are you hurt?” Hunter asks, running his hands over my shoulders and arms.

My heart pounds so hard and fast that I can barely hear his question. I shake my head, my hands fisting in his shirt. I have to hold on to him because my trembling legs are ready to give way at any moment..