Panic winds up my spine, squeezing the air from my lungs. Gasping for breath, I fight my way out of my blankets, which seem to have tied themselves into knots around my ankles.
I don’t have a particular plan of action other than getting the fuck out of this tent and off this mountain. My followers will be disappointed, yes, but at least I’ll be alive for them to roast me in the comments. Hopefully.
I let out a frustrated grunt as I tumble out of the nest of blankets, flinging my considerable weight forward and directly into the closed tent opening. The zipper pops in a few places, but surprisingly, the material stays mostly intact.
Unfortunately, my appreciation for the well-made tent is superseded by the fact that I’m not stopping. And neither is the tent.
I fall on my face—still trapped in my canvas coffin—and continue to roll downhill, sleeping bag, backpack, and all. Curling into a ball, I try to protect my face from whatever is about to come my way. I should have been more worried about my extremities.
“Ugh!” I grunt as my left leg smashes against something and gets stuck. My entire body comes to a jolting halt. All the blood rushes to my head while my ankle and shin are wedged between a rock and a hard place. Literally.
I’m hanging upside-down, or at least I think I am. Honestly, I don’t know which way is up at the moment, only that my head is killing me, and my trapped leg is numb, which can’t be a good sign.
I try taking a few deep breaths, but they’re shallow and a little painful. What the heck do I do now?
No sooner does the thought cross my mind than I hear something heading in my direction. I’m not sure why I'm so certain it’s coming my way, but my heart beats faster as the steps grow closer. I can’t see anything since I’m still all wrapped up in my tent, but the world seems to condense into this single moment, everything lying in wait for what’s next.
When the beast outside my tent spreads its hand out over the side of my tent, I scream until my throat is raw. And then I scream again.
3
WILDER
“Calm down, woman, I’m trying to help,” I grunt at the unfortunate person in this precarious position.
I wasn’t sure what the fuck I was looking at when I saw a canvas tent catapulting its way through the forest, tumbling downhill before wedging itself between a Y-shaped tree trunk. Now that I’m standing right in front of it, I’m still not sure what the hell to do about it.
The trapped woman thrashes to one side, then hisses. My heart lurches in my chest at the thought of her being in pain. Weird, since I didn’t know I still had a heart.
“If you just stay still, I can–”
“I come in peace,” she says suddenly, making me pause my actions for a moment while I quirk up an eyebrow. Her screams have subsided, and she now seems to be trying a different tactic. “If you’re a lost soul looking to cross over to the other side, I can help.”
Lost soul? Crossing over? What kind of lunatic is trespassing on my land?
“I’m not the one who’s lost,” I tell her, clearing my throat. “You, on the other hand, seem to have found your way onto private property.”
She freezes, apparently expecting ghosts and aliens but not humans.
“Oh,” the woman says, her tone soft and a little disappointed.Weird. “Well, I–”
Just then, the slick tent material tears, causing the woman to slip from her awkward position in the tree. I lunge forward, holding out my arms to catch her before she hits the ground. The excess canvas material, along with what I’m assuming are her blankets, clothes, and sleeping bag, continue their journey down the mountain and into a ravine while I cradle the strange and now-trembling woman against my chest.
I sit on the forest floor and carefully peel back the layers of fabric still covering the trespasser in my arms. When I see her face for the first time, I swear to God I forget how to breathe.
Dark green eyes blink up at me, framed in long, dark lashes that match her espresso-colored hair. Silver moonlight kisses her rosy cheeks and full, pouty lips, which are currently pulled down into an anxious frown. She’s clinging to a backpack, so at least she didn’t lose everything.
“Um, I’m-I’m sorry,” she stammers. “I didn’t realize… Private property… I-I-I thought…”
The woman scrambles out of my lap, only to yelp in pain as soon as she puts pressure on her left foot. I immediately stand and wrap an arm around her waist, steadying her as she balances on her uninjured foot.
“Better get that looked at,” I grunt, still unsure where this rush of protective and confusing feelings is coming from.
“Right. I’ll just hobble down there and collect my stuff,” she says, nodding her chin toward her pile of things hundreds of feet below us, “and make my way to the first hospital I see.”
I think she’s trying to be funny and sarcastic, but her nose is red, and her eyes are welling up with tears, so she’s not quite pulling off the joke.
“I meant I’d take you back to my cabin and make sure nothing’s broken. You can rest up for the night and be on your way. What were you doing up here anyway?”
