Page 26 of Foxin’ Around (Mated to the Monster: Season 3)

Chapter

Twenty-Five

S yrix didn’t return that day, or the next. Krystal had paced the cabin anxiously and even walked as far into the forest as she dared before Fixi grabbed a hold of the hem of her tunic and tugged her back to the safety of the cabin. But the nights yawned like a chasm, the moonlight streaming through her window bringing tears to her eyes.

She couldn’t see the moon and not think of him, nor could she walk the forest garden to their little meadow. That was when she could manage to leave the cabin at all because she was terrified that if she did, she might miss him if he briefly returned. She couldn’t bear for that to happen. She needed to tell him that she wanted him and that she needed him, not just for the safety he provided, but because he completed her and made her want to embrace that happiness he had spoken of. She wanted to pursue and steal every moment she could with him. She wanted to tell him the truth, that her anger and fear had been rooted in the fact that she had fallen in love with him, and she was afraid of what the truth could mean for them, and whether he could love her the same way. There was so much she wanted to say, and those words were now caught within her, forming a heavy, dark pit as they consumed her with regret.

She should have told him before he walked out of the cabin. But he had returned and left her the roses that were now wilting and slowly dying where they continued to sit on her dresser. She stared at them in the weak light of the lamp, her heart aching that this was one place she didn’t have a memory of him to comfort her. She considered crawling into his bed instead, where she could at least drown in his scent, but the thought didn’t offer her much comfort because he wouldn’t be there either. Not that it truly mattered in the bigger scheme of things. Those places in the cabin that were inhabited by her memory of him didn’t bring her any less pain and often made her weep when her emotions ran high, beyond her ability to control them.

He was everywhere. He was there in the kitchen, cooking and eating with her. He was sitting in the living room in front of the fire with one of her uncle’s books. He was beside her on the couch, a fond smile on his lips as she’d cuddled into his side. Even looking at the worn copy of Dune still sitting on the small table by the couch made her burst into tears. She couldn’t sleep. She could barely force herself to eat more than a few mouthfuls of food because she knew that he was supposed to be sitting there beside her at the table, his eyes glittering with delight as she sampled the food he’d made for her, or when he gamely tasted her slowly developing cooking efforts. Not even her bedroom provided escape from his presence in her memories as the phantom of his fox form followed curl and curled upon the bed beside her. All it did was leave her with an empty, hollow feeling, which is why she was lying there in the dark with her pillow and cheeks stained from her tears.

“When do you think he’s coming back?” she whispered to the pair of foxes curled by her side with their kits.

Fixi lifted his head and regarded her soberly, his ears flattening as he yipped a sad little warble of sound that tugged miserably at her heart.

“Yeah, I can relate,” she mumbled, turning her cheek back onto her pillow.

Her heart weighing heavily, she reached for her lamp, ready to extinguish it. Without Syrix there, the generator had already stopped working, though she still had the ice box and the fridge, but she cared little about the inconvenience. All she wanted was him, and at least, if she managed to sleep, she might be able to catch a glimpse of him in her dreams. She turned the small nob, lowering the light, but froze when she heard a faint, far-off sound that seemed to be gradually growing louder as if something was coming closer. And the closer it came, the clearer she could hear it, until it became apparent that someone was calling her. Not just anyone, but Syrix!

Excitement enlivening her with vitality and a great sense of urgency, she jolted up in bed and threw off her blanket with hastily mumbled apologies to the fox family who quickly scooted away with barks and yips of surprise. Feet hitting the floor, she ran to her window and threw the curtain wide.

“Syrix,” she whispered, her eyes fastening on the lone male standing in the moonlight at the edge of the forest.

Trembling with happiness, she tore away from the window and flew through the cabin. She didn’t even bother to stop and put her shoes on before she was sprinting out the door, Fixi’s anxious yips following after her. She didn’t understand what his problem was. Syrix was home at last!

She laughed as she ran toward him, her arms rising in greeting. He smiled at her, his lovely red eyes glowing with an unmistakable glitter of happiness. But then he retreated into the forest before she could fall into his arms, dancing playfully just outside of her reach as he beckoned to her to follow.

“Come, my love. This way,” he called.

Krystal’s brows knitted in confusion, but she hurried after him, following him ever deeper into the woods, not wanting to be separated already after finally being reunited with him.

“Syrix, wait. You said to not go so far into the forest at night,” she shouted, but he laughed in response and shook his head as he slipped among the trees,

“Do not be silly. The lamia went to ground, remember? There is something important I must show you. It is the reason I have been gone for so long. It cannot wait,” he insisted.

Krystal frowned and hurried after him. What could have possibly kept him away from the cabin? She was certain she knew Syrix well enough that he would never intentionally stay away and leave her there alone. She doubted any discovery or anything at all would have kept him away from her.

“Maybe we should wait until morning,” she suggested and yelped when a branch caught her hair, tugging sharply at her scalp.

Fixi plastered himself against her leg, his tiny teeth sinking in her sock-covered foot with a growl, but she took little notice of him as she battled the tree’s hold on her. When she finally got loose, she was alarmed to see that Syrix was even farther away, but at least he appeared to be waiting for her. Fixi sank his teeth in harder, biting the hell out of her when she attempted to follow after him.

“Ouch! Shit. Fixi!” she scolded him, and the fox immediately let her got, his ears and tail lowering contritely. “Go home if you can’t cease being a menace.”

Scooting back a few paces, the fox laid flat on the forest floor and gave her a beguiling look that made her shake her head in exasperation.

“Alright come on, then,” she sighed. “But behave!”

He immediately sprang to his feet in response and though he practically trembled as they trailed behind Syrix, he made no more efforts to stop her. She shook her head, marveling at his weird behavior. Why would he interfere when it came to Syrix? Unless, perhaps, he thought of coaxing them back to the cabin. If that were the case, she could hardly fault him for that, as she would prefer to return with Syrix as well.

But the real question was why was he so far ahead of her now? He wasn’t even making an effort to wait for her to catch up. Here waited for merely a moment or two as if to be certain that she was still following and then he continued on.

She frowned as she stumbled through the overgrown parts of the forest, far from the usual paths they walked until she realized abruptly that they had crossed out of his territory. There was no river on this side to mark the boundary line and she couldn’t even say for sure where his territory ended there, but upon stopping for a moment to breathe, she noted the distinct change in the air that made her tremble with unease.

“Syrix, where are you?” she shouted, suddenly realizing that she had completely lost sight of him. “We shouldn’t be here.”

“Just a little farther,” his voice called from within the trees. “It is right over here. Hurry, and then we can go home.”

She bit her lip, unease crawling through her as her secondary sense of knowing screamed at her. She took one step and then another, the sound of lapping water making her tremble harder. This was wrong. She shouldn’t be there. And her stomach dropped as she finally stepped out from the trees and stared fearfully as the Mallory cabin rose from the lakefront like an angry ghost. She didn’t move for a long minute, her stomach churning and her eyes skittering around the property. Where was Syrix?

“In here, my love. There is a really important secret I discovered, and I want to share it with you. And you did mention raiding their food supply. We can do that afterward. You were right. There is place is a treasure trove.”

“Oh, okay,” she replied hesitantly as she made her way to the porch. “Just… let’s make this fast, okay? I don’t want to be here long. This place gives me the creeps.”

“Of course,” he answered, but his voice sounded even more hollow and distant as if he were drifting farther into the cabin without her.

Gritting her teeth, Krystal hurried across the porch and in through the front door, leaving it wide open for Fixi as the little fox darted in after her.

The stench was the first thing that hit her. It smelled damp, as if the lake had flooded through it a few times, and something almost metallic with a foul odor of something rotting somewhere. She gagged a little and covered her mouth and nose with her sleeve, her gaze flitting around the dark living space. She could barely make out the once expensive furnishings, electronics, and designer art pieces that inhabited the room along with the hunting trophies that hung from the walls in a grim shadow play. Fixi pressed hard against her leg but then suddenly he darted forward, abandoning her as he raced at full speed through the cabin.

Krystal frowned in the direction he disappeared. “Damn it, where did you just take off to?” she muttered as she slowly inched her way after him, nearly blind from the darkness.

Cursing beneath her breath as she banged into things randomly, her fingers slid across something sharp driven into the table she collided with. She gingerly explored it with her fingers, noting the sharp, long blade and the wood handle. A hunting knife? Although it was a strange place for the large blade, she wasn’t about to complain when she was suddenly feeling very vulnerable. She curled her fingers around the hilt and tugged, whispering a prayer of thanks when it suddenly popped loose. Holding the blade to her side, she continued to make her way through the cabin.

“Syrix?”

“Down here. You are never going to believe this.” His voice floated up to her from an open door.

Down there? She opened the door a little farther and shuddered, trying not to gag as the smell of decay wafted even heavier from inside the doorway. Drawing her borrowed tunic over her mouth and nose so that she would have both hands free, she squinted down into the darkness. Sure enough, she was able to make out the vague, dark impressions of stairs descending into inky blackness.

“Syrix, I can’t. It’s too dark. I won’t be able to see.”

A little light flickered to life and a faint glow rose from below, casting a light illumination onto the stairs. Despite the quick response, for some reason it brought to mind a descent into hell. Cold sweat popped out on her skin, and she shuddered. She just needed to get through this and then they could go.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, and she descended the stairs one by one until she finally reached the floor level where Syrix stood waiting, a wide grin on his face.

Tension bled from her, and she returned his smile. “Okay, what did you want to show me?”

“Come here first,” he enticed. “You were so brave that I think it deserves a reward.

Her smile grew more relaxed. That was her ridiculous and far too cunning fox. “Okay, but then you show me what you’re so excited about so we can get out of here.”

“Agreed.”

Chuckling quietly to herself, she crossed the distance to him. The closer she got, however, the thicker the foul scent grew, as if the entire cellar was filled with something putrid.

“The smell is disgusting. This is hardly romantic,” she joked.

“Romance is what you make of it, I would say,” he rasped as his mouth descended over hers.

The taste of his lips was wrong. Everything was wrong and it was like some bubble of illusion popped. Disgust rose sharp and bitter within her and she recoiled at the putrid flavor of his mouth and tongue. Gagging, she wrenched away and backpedaled as she stared at the contorting silhouette standing in front of her.

“You’re not Syrix,” she whispered in horror, and the creature laughed.