Finally, I smile before I say, “Collar.”
24
Scarlett
My stomach tumbles with nervous energy when Lycan steps closer, clasping the make-shift collar around my neck. There’s a small bell attached to the center, which makes a soft tinkling sound. I doubt you could hear it in the woods, but he seems convinced it’s going to allow him to find me.
But what if Darius finds me first?
Lycan steps back once the collar is fastened and Darius hands me a pair of leggings and a tank top, which I slip on as they watch. Next, I’m given a deep crimson hoodie, which I can’t help but smile at. When I tug the hood over my hair, I’m sure I look the part of Little Red that Lycan loves to refer to me as.
Those hungry gazes never stray from me, and it makes my blood burn hot with need. Knowing I enjoy the hunt and chase, I’m sure Lycan told Darius about it, and now that they’re prepared to play this scene with me, I allow calmness to wash over me with deep breaths as I take them in.
Lycan hands me some socks, and my pair of sneakers I didn’t even realize he had brought downstairs. Once I’m dressed, with the collar tinkling in the silence, their hungry gazes locked on me, I straighten, taking them both in from head to toe.
“I’m ready.”
The curl of Lycan’s lips has arousal pooling between my thighs, and I squeeze them together to quell the ache, but nothing can calm me down now. I’m hyper-sensitive, my skin prickles and awareness rushes over me. I’m about to play a game and I’m not sure how to win.
My hungry gaze trails my husband’s movements as he walks toward the floor to ceiling patio doors leading out onto the garden. He slides one open, and steps aside. “Find your way to grandma’s house before either of us catch you,” he tells me. His wolfish, yet satisfied expression makes my heart thud faster.
He knows I’ll get lost.
I realize I’ll get lost.
But that’s part of the excitement.
I take my first step outside, my breath catching as a cool breeze brushes over my body. My nipples harden against the soft material of my tank top, and I slip out into the garden. Glancing over my shoulder, I smile at Lycan, who’s standing beside Darius as they watch me.
Then, I turn and race for the woods.
We all know the fairytale of Red Riding Hood, and we all know what happens in the end. But this isn’t some made-up story. This is my life, and my husband, the wolf, is about to come find me.
As I race amongst the trees, I head right, in the direction of my grandmother’s house, which I’m sure is empty now. I can’t see anything. With the silver glow of the moon, I try to gauge how far I’ve gone, but the trees are too high, too thick for me to even see. I take a moment, coming to a stop against one of the thick trunks, to catch my breath, but also to look back. I make out the small glimmer of yellow, which is our bedroom light, but the moment I spot it, it’s gone. Blinking, I focus, but it’s no longer there, and I wonder if Lycan turned off the lights to mess with me.
I’m still too close to the Shaw manor to make it to the Bardot home safely. So, I spin on my heel and start running once more. The deeper into the woods I go, the more disorienting it gets. But I think back to the night Lycan found me. It didn’t take too long to get to his place from gran’s, meaning the path can’t be too long.
Only, there is no path.
A crack from behind me echoes amongst the trees, and a scream frees itself from my lips. I cringe, knowing they would’ve heard me. It’s not meant to be a game of cat and mouse, but it’s not the fairytale I grew up reading.
My lungs pull in air, which I expel in short spurts. My heart thrums a rhythm that makes my chest ache, and my thighs are starting to burn from the exertion. I’m not great with cardio, clearly, and this is seriously pushing my limits.
But I can’t stop.
Another crack from somewhere to my left sends panic skittering down my spine as the cool air picks up, a breeze blowing through the leaves, causing them to rustle.
Suddenly, heavy footfalls bear down on me, and I push myself to run faster. Thankfully I’m wearing shoes, because the ground underfoot is hard, and each time I step on a fallen branch, or a stick, it cracks loudly.
Keeping my focus in front of me, I take a left, then a right, and when I come to a break in the trees, I’m almost certain I’ve found the house, but when I race closer, I notice it’s only a small patch, and there are more trees ahead.