Page 45 of The Sea Witch’s Son (The Villains of Wolf Hollow #1)

Chapter 4 4

MELODY

Anton’s deadline comes and goes.

Instead of goons waiting outside my front door with pitchforks and menacing smiles, the deadline passed like a leaf blowing in the wind. Subtle and unsuspecting, it's as if the threat was never made in the first place.

Although something has shifted in Wolf Hollow.

The classes are emptier than usual and the college seems to have lost some of its gumption. Students are keeping their heads down during class and even the professors seem more nervous than usual. The fights that would break out during the lunch hour have all but disappeared, each person sticking to whatever shadow they can find.

It’s the quiet before the storm and everyone seems to be bracing for whatever lies ahead .

Calista and Gus have been suspiciously absent for the last three days. Marlin disappears every evening to partake in God knows what activities, but he always crawls back into bed with me before sunrise.

I’ve tried to get information out of him, but he manages to evade every question with a quick remark and a sly smile.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Calista lately.” Closing my textbook, I look at him from across the study table, “Has something happened?”

“Are you jealous, little saint?”

“Are you avoiding the question?”

Marlin doesn’t look up from his spreadsheets, “Sounds like you’re avoiding mine.”

I grit my teeth, glaring at the navy blue dress shirt he’s got on today. The top two buttons are undone, the sleeves rolled up to his elbow to show off the intricate details of his tattoo. He looks as untouchable as always, the perfect illusion of a man who has every piece of his life under control.

“Then yes. I am jealous.”

That gets his attention.

An infuriating smirk snakes across his handsome face as his eyes drop to peruse my seated body.

“Possessive little thing, aren’t you?” He grins, placing muscular forearms on the table, “Can’t stand seeing me around other women. ”

“Says the man who bites me.” Tugging down the collar of my shirt, I give him a pointed look, “You need to stop. I only have so many turtlenecks.”

“But my teeth marks look so good on you.”

I glare at him, “That’s not the point. I’ve answered your question so its time you answered mine.”

Amusement lights up his eyes, “Are you giving me orders, little saint?”

“No. I’m asking you a simple question.”

I’ve learned the hard way that the only time Marlin offers up information is if I offer something in return. Sometimes it’s a song before bed, other times its tidbits of personal information no one else has access too.

He likes hearing about my mother. The good, the bad and the ugly. I’ve lost count of the number of memories I’ve shared in hopes he’ll share something in return.

He never talks about his family, but sometimes I get a glimpse of someone else. A softer version of Marlin that no one else gets to see.

I’m aware of how one-sided this relationship is, but the strange thing is, I like sharing stories of my life with him. I like talking about my mom without sugar coating the bad parts and I like singing for an audience of one.

Somewhere along the way, Marlin stopped being an obstacle and became a building block for my life here.

And that fact alone scares me more than any shadow ever could .

“We are tying up loose ends.” He puts his pencil down with a sigh, “Reviewing numbers and suspects to make sure the correct culprit is found.”

I blink in surprise, “I didn’t know you have a justice system here.”

“Our methods are far from justified, although compared to the Dragon, they are quite tame.” Marlin frowns, looking back down at the spreadsheet, “She has begun to make her displeasure known.”

My palms suddenly feel a tad too sweaty.

“Is she that bad?”

“It takes a powerful woman to control a town. And for a town such as this one…"

He trails off, leaving me to finish the sentence.

I swallow thickly, “Does she know about Calista’s scars?”

Marlin goes quiet for a moment.

“She called them her uncles. The businessmen who would come to visit her mother. Nurses at the academy used to place bets on what days Calista would come to school with bandages running down her legs.”

I stare at him, “She must have destroyed them. No mother would allow men to violate her daughter like that.”

Something close to a smile hits his lips, “Who do you think sent the men up to her bedroom in the first place?”

Bone-gripping fear spears through me.

“You can’t be serious. ”

He chuckles at my horrified expression, “My little saint, this is Wolf Hollow. You either learn to survive or you die trying.”

I can barely breathe through the sudden nausea.

“But... her own mother?”

“Parents can be the cruelest of them all.” He clears his throat and looks back down at the spreadsheets, “Needless to say, when the Dragon is displeased it is best to duck and cover.”

I find myself unable to ask any more questions.

By the time I leave the library, Marlin has gone off to run an errand and dusk has begun to set. Streaks of red and orange slice through the sky, illuminating the gnarled trees rising all around me.

It’s beautiful yet the absence of crows and howling wolves has goosebumps creeping over my flesh. Even the wilderness seems to be waiting for the Dragon’s verdict, the collective intake of breath making it feel like I’m one gust away from falling indefinitely.

I keep my pace quick and even as I walk along the trails. A branch snaps and my head snaps to the side, scanning the shadows for anything out of the ordinary.

A deer stares back at me, its expression frozen with fear. I smile, giving it a little wave before another movement catches my eye.

The man lunges from the trees, his decaying clothes and aging face making me scream. His hands are outstretched, grasping at the edge of my skirt when I turn and run. The deer sprints ahead of me, bounding and galloping through the trees as I stumble and scramble to get away.

A bark sounds in the distance and swears flow out of the man’s mouth. I risk a glance over my shoulder, and the sight of his brittle teeth and shrivelled eyes is enough to keep me running deep into the wilderness.

The sound of an animal tearing through the forest has the footsteps behind me fading. I keep running, adrenaline pounding through my system as the trees around me start to grow thicker.

And taller.

Suddenly, I’m surrounded by staggering green walls. The deer is long gone, and when I look behind me, the impenetrable hedge blocks off any threats from the outside.

But now I have to figure out how to navigate the inside.

My breath is short and uneven, the tremble in my legs telling me I only have a few minutes until the shock sinks in. I reach for my phone to figure out my location. The maps can’t find a signal, and no matter how many times I refresh the page, the status doesn't change.

“Shit.”

Taking another look around, I note the winding trail ahead. The hedges are sporadically placed, ensuring dead ends and loopholes are hidden within the thick green wall. I feel like I’m in some sort of labyrinth, the identical passageways making me nauseous with indecision.

“What do you call a man with one foot inside the grave? ”

“Hello?”

I peer down the passage to my left, only for the creepy voice to echo from my right.

“A man with one foot in the grave. What do you call him?”

“A ghost.”

Another scan of the surrounding hedges turns up empty. Whoever I’m hearing either doesn’t exist or has somehow blended into the leafy walls around me.

“Very good.”

Disturbing laughter rings out and I quickly follow the sound.

Keeping one hand on the wall, I make my way down the uneven trail, following the dips and curves without a hint of direction. The laughter seems to be getting louder and quieter at the same time, the horrible sound keeping my feet driving forward.

“Who are you?”

“Who are you? I know who you are.” Croaks break through the laughter, “The broken melody who found herself a broken ghost.”

Sounds like I’m talking to a pretty fucked up ghost right now.

“Do you know how to get out of here?”

“No, but you do. What is it you want most in the world?”

“To get out of here.”

“Are you sure?” A deep chuckle sounds right behind me, “That’s not what you told the Sea Witch’s son.”

I whip around, expecting to see a translucent figure floating three feet off the ground. Nothing but hedges stare back at me, their imposing structure growing increasingly threatening under the darkening sky.

“I don’t know.”

“So many questions and yet none of them are worth asking. Why are none of them worth asking?”

“Because there’s no answers.” Taking a breath, I cast another look around the hedged fence, “I want answers.”

My foot catches on something and my momentum swings forward. I fling out my hands, trying to break the fall, but it’s no use. I hit the ground hard, tearing the skin clean off my palms and slicing my cheek on a wayward branch.

Fuck. That hurt.

Groaning at the aches consuming my body, I push myself onto my hands and knees. Grains of sand trickle through my bloody fingers, and it takes me a moment to register I’m no longer in the maze.

“What the hell?”

Squinting through the darkness, I catch sight of a long beach stretching just beyond the tree line. White sand glistens under the rising moon, the waves of water lapping lazily at the shore.

A strong breeze hits my face, carrying the sweet tang of salt water. Humidity coats my skin, offering a layer of warmth while I struggle to turn on my phone flashlight.

The beam cuts through the darkness like a knife. Wincing at the sudden brightness, I shine the light on the ground, searching for the rock that must have taken me down .

Letting the light roam over mounds of sand and protruding roots, I catch sight of something sticking out of the ground.

Bending down, I study the corner of what looks to be a plastic folder. It’s only an inch or two above the ground, but the unnatural angle makes me think erosion pushed it to the surface a long time ago.

I grab the plastic corner and give it a tug.

It doesn’t budge.

Blowing out a breath, I set my flashlight down and that’s when I notice the sign.

Staked into the earth, the cardboard square looks used and abused after years of neglect. I lean forward and carefully brush the dirt off the faded words.

And that’s when the horror sinks in.

Here lies T. Seaborn.

He lived and died a fool.