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"Hey, little bunny," he coos. "I won't let them snare you in their trap again. I promise."
My heart races with fear, but alongside it, a strength I hadn't known I possessed rises. I don’t know how he knows that it’s the poachers, but I trust that he’s right. And…I trust him.
I feel a surge of safety, a reminder that with Aiden, I might just be the safest I've ever been.
"What does this mean for us?" I ask, needing to understand, to grasp the full extent of the danger we face. Should we call the cops- wait. No phone service. Fuck. “Why are they here?”
His face hardens, gaze darting to the door thoughtfully. He doesn’t want to scare me, it’s obvious. Shit. It must be bad.
"We need to be cautious, Emma. They're dangerous," he says slowly, but his tone suggests there's more he's holding back. "Stay here, I will deal with them.”
"Don’t be ridiculous, I'm with you,” I assert, unwilling to let him face the danger alone.
Inside, though, I'm terrified at the thought of him confronting them by himself. An irrational fear grips me – the fear that if he goes out there, he might not come back. I know it doesn't make complete sense; poachers generally don't bother people. But the fear is there, gnawing at me.
"No, Emma, you need to stay here. It's safer," Aiden insists, his voice firm yet laced with concern.
"No, I'm going with you," I counter, my tone equally resolute. "I can't just sit here and wait."
My determination to stand by his side is unwavering, even as the knock sounds again, louder this time, a demanding bang, bang, bang that makes me wince.
I can almost sense the acrid scent of his fear, a tang that seeps into the very air around us. It settles deep into my bones, a cold, unnerving sensation. It's not only his fear; it's mine too, mirroring his, a shared dread of what lies beyond the safety of these cabin walls.
I push myself to get up, despite the pain shooting through my leg. Aiden, seeing my resolve, sighs but assists me, his arm supporting me as we approach the door.
As we reach the door, he positions himself protectively in front of me, his body a barrier between me and whatever - or whoever - is outside.
With a deep breath, he slowly opens the door to reveal the poachers.
They are two rough-looking men, with weathered faces marked by life outdoors. One is tall and burly, with a scar running down his cheek, and the other, shorter but wiry, has a cunning look in his eyes. Both wear tattered clothing, and the taller one cradles a hunting rifle in his arms.
"What do you want?" Aiden's voice is cold, his stance defensive.
"We're just looking for something we lost," the taller poacher replies, his eyes flicking towards me.
"Yeah, there was a girl caught in one of our traps. Seems like we found her," the shorter one adds, a sneer on his lips as he notices my injured leg.
A cold fear grips me as I meet their gaze, unflinching. The realization hits me hard – they aren't just poaching animals. They’re capable of more than that. They're far more dangerous than I initially thought. My heart pounds against my chest, a stark contrast to the icy dread that fills my veins.
The taller poacher continues, his voice laced with malice, "We're here to take what's ours."
For a moment, Aiden is so still that I think he may very well step aside, let them take me. But then I realize that he’s not still, no. A tremor quakes through him, as if trying to stop himself.
I can’t see his face, but his voice is cold when he says, "She is mine and mine alone.”
His.
My knees grow weak and I clutch his arm. His words should scare me, but they don’t. The declaration that I am his sends a shiver down my spine, not only from the possessiveness of the statement but from the underlying commitment it carries – a commitment to protect me at all costs.
"You don't scare us," the taller poacher retorts, but there's a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.
The shorter one cuts in, stepping forward. "You're harboring something that doesn't belong to you. Just give her up and the three of us will be on our way.”
Aiden's response is a growl, low and threatening. "She's not your concern. Leave. Now. Before I decide you won’t be leaving at all.”
The poachers hesitate, a flicker of fear passing over their faces. They exchange uncertain glances, weighing their options against Aiden's menacing posture. But they have a gun and Aiden doesn't. I haven't seen a single gun in his cabin this entire time.
As I stand beside Aiden, my own heart racing, I wish for a weapon, anything to feel less helpless.
