Page 7 of Ravished By the Revenant

I kneel beside it, and it lies on its back, exposing its belly. I take the little brass collar tag in my fingers, turning it over. The front says ‘Blackthorn Keep’.

“Well, that’s not your name.” I look at the back. “Schmetterling. You don’t look like a butterfly. I’ll just call you Shmoo.”

I risk scratching his belly and get rewarded with purrs. Questionable hygiene practices aside, he is kind of cute.

Suddenly, Shmoo’s ears turn, and he jumps to his feet, padding away around the corner.

“Hey, where are you going?”

I brush my knees off and follow. As I round the corner, I just see Shmoo’s gray tail disappear inside a barn. Once I see it, I start smelling it and... was that a moo?

“This place is full of surprises.”

But I’m getting increasingly worried that someone is here more often than I thought. Maybe I should get out of here before I’m caught snooping like Goldilocks. The only way that scenario is hot is if the three bears are shifters with lumberjack vibes.

I push on the barn door, and it opens with a creak, making a gap just large enough for me to pass through. It’s darker in here, but that’s definitely a cow. And those are chickens. None of the animals look hungry or neglected.

“What in the world?”

Blackthorn Keep went from semi-abandoned to obviously lived in. I need to get out of here.

“Bye, guys,” I tell the animals, backing out slowly.

I pick up the pace once I’m outside, making my way across the garden, then the keep, the atrium, and I’m back outside, panting as I speedwalk like I’m wearing a pink Juicy Couture tracksuit.

At the gate, I turn and look up one more time. Shit, I left the shutters open.

“It’ll be fine, someone’s going to come and close them,” I whisper.

I tug on the wrought iron handle.

Nothing.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I grumble, using both hands to pull harder.

Nothing.

I stumbled in, right? So it doesn’t open the other way.

But I try anyway.

Nothing.

“This can’t be happening,” I breathe.

Through the orchard—there has to be a way out there.

Determined, I march back into the keep, through the atrium, the vestibule, the hallway, and out the garden door. Shmoo falls into step halfway through the cabbage patch, and together we head for the treeline.

I hope he knows his way home, because I won’t be coming back.

6

CLARA

Icame back.

I had no choice—no matter which direction I set out in, I kept finding myself back at the keep. To make matters worse, I used up the last of my phone’s battery trying to get my map app to work.