Hunted

SILAS“Come on, Scout!” I called to my dog, shutting the barn door after feeding the goats. I wiped my hands down my pants, then used the back of my hand to swipe the sweat from my brow.I glanced toward the house. Time to check on that damn dog—if it was still alive, that is.I thought about how close I’d come to running the poor thing over last night. Rain had been coming down in sheets, and I’d barely been able to see the road, just getting back from town with some supplies.As I pushed the door open, Scout bolted in ahead of me. But he stopped abruptly, tail tucked, a low growl rumbling from his chest. My senses went on high alert.Following his gaze, my eyes landed on the smears of blood. But there weren’t paw prints—no, these were human bloodprints.My hand found the bat by the wall, and I gripped it tight, creeping forward, following the trail. The marks led straight to the bathroom. With a quick breath and my hands wrapped tightly around the bat, I lifted my foot and slammed t

SILAS I wasn’t an evil person, but I’d be lying if I called myself a saint. Life had taught me long ago that no one was entirely good or bad—we were all somewhere in the messy, gray middle. And right now, as I looked down at this stranger, passed out and burning up on my dog’s bed, I was firmly planted in that moral gray zone. Riley—if that was even his real name—was in bad shape. He’d been feverish and muttering incoherently for the past few minutes, his body a bundle of shivers one second and burning hot the next. His skin was so flushed I could feel the heat radiating off him, seeping into my shirt where he’d clawed at it like a lifeline. He twisted on his side, mumbling something I couldn’t quite catch, teeth chattering like he was freezing, though sweat drenched his skin. “I didn’t do it…” The words escaped his lips in a faint murmur, his fingers unclenching and curling into the mattress instead. I frowned, my eyes narrowing as I watched him. Didn’t do what? He wasn’t making

RileyI dragged my tongue across my cracked, dry lips, the metallic taste of blood lingering there as I watched him—this human who held me captive in this damn basement. I still didn’t know his name, and I couldn’t decide if he was keeping that detail from me to protect himself…or to keep me guessing. But I knew one thing for certain: I was hungry. Starving, really, and my stomach growled loud enough that even he noticed.“I’m hungry,” I snapped, watching his gaze narrow, sharpening like he could see right through me.“Tell me everything. Are there more of you coming for me?” His voice was hard, clipped. The way he looked at me, you’d think I’d already slit his throat.A sigh slipped out of me as I sank back, sliding down until I was sitting on the cold floor, legs stretched out in front of me. I winced as pain shot through my side, my wound throbbing from even that slight movement. Damn them. My pack had injected me with wolfsbane before they’d released me, left me half-drugged and b

SILAS I am not a murderer. I am not a murderer. The words hammered in my head, over and over, beating in time with the swing of the axe. It was barely morning, and already sweat clung to my skin, but that voice—that voice inside—was louder than anything, louder than the sound of the axe biting into wood. Over and over again. I am not a murderer. But if I let him die, what did that make me? I slammed the axe down, feeling the wood split under the force. “They’re the monsters,” I muttered, trying to ground myself, trying to remember. They’re the ones who kill. Not me. Uncle Orin told me, my parents told me. I saw it with my own eyes. But still… his voice, his face, the way he’d looked at me. What if… what if he wasn’t like them? My grip tightened on the axe until my knuckles turned white. It wasn’t supposed to feel like this. I wasn’t supposed to feel anything at all. I dropped the axe, chest heaving, and looked up at the sky, as if I’d find some sort of answer there. “Fuck!” T

RILEYIt felt like my body was on fire. Scratch that, it felt like molten lava was poured into my veins, and all I could feel was pain. Regardless, I forced my eyes open and found myself staring at a white ceiling.I turned my head to the side and realized that the walls looked too damn familiar—for me to be in either hell or heaven.I forced myself to sit up, and I winced as pain shot through my body. Attached to the bed was an IV bag, its line tethered to my arm, though it was almost empty. I removed it and swung my feet from the bed to the ground.I tilted my nose to the air, and the smell of another human—a female—hit me with the familiar scent of Silas.Fuck.I had to get out of here before the human came into the room. I forced myself to stand, and the room tilted to the side before my hands found the wall, and I steadied myself.Sweat broke down my temple and neck, and I gritted my teeth to steady my wobbly legs.I unlocked the door and crept past the hall to the living room. M