TRICK OR TREAT

The cold bites sharply, but beneath it, there's a numbing stillness that almost soothes. I'm lying here in the snow, my mind foggy and disconnected from my unfeeling legs. As exhaustion creeps in, my breaths come harder, and the sharp pain begins to dull, tempting me to just stop resisting and relax into the cold.

A sad whine breaks through the quiet, accompanied by a wet nudge against my cheek. I want to ignore it, to just sink into the numbness, but there's a persistent warmth calling out, gently pulling at the edges of my consciousness.

The nudges keep coming, more insistent now. Alongside the physical sensation, the warmth turns into a luminous glow, pulling me towards a vision of my mother, her image beckoning me towards her.

I try to shut it out, but curiosity wins. I barely open my eyes, and through the haze, I see a pair of bright yellow eyes looking down at me, set in a furry, black face with a tongue lolling out in concern.

Recognition dawns slowly, warmth spreading through the chill. I know you. You’re my wolf.

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Pine, spiced musk.

Teeth on my neck.

"My Doe eyes."

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I awaken, finding myself alone.

"My Wolf."

Thoughts of him had long faded, vanished throughout the years. After my parents' accident, he was a constant presence, an imaginary companion accompanying me through the night when I closed my eyes. In those lonely moments, he became my family. But with time, as I began to heal, his visits grew less frequent, until they ceased altogether.

Why would I dream of him again? Why now?

The memory of last night's dream lingers as I make my way to Brady's.

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Stepping into the bar, I pause to let my eyes adjust to the dim lighting. The shadow of my hood doesn't stop the admiring glances and compliments that follow as I navigate through the crowd. Adjusting the ruffles of my skirt and straightening the leather corset, I'm still pleasantly surprised by the costume that awaited me at my doorstep earlier.

"Damn, Red, you look amazing," Liam calls out from his perch on a stool as I approach.

Flashing him a coy smile, confidence boosted, I take in his 1920s gangster attire. He looks as though he's walked straight out of a Peaky Blinders scene, perfectly embodying the style with a grey tailored frock coat and a matching flat cap, a nod to his Irish roots. His hair is slicked back, and he leans casually on an old-fashioned brass cane.

"Well, if I knew you'd come dressed like that, love, I might've picked a woodcutter or the big bad wolf," Liam purrs, giving me a thorough once-over.

"Wasn’t it your pick?" I ask, having thought he chose the costumes.

Liam chuckles sheepishly. "Actually, no, lass. I just sent over your measurements to a family friend who picked it out."

Grinning, I curtsy playfully, lifting the edge of my Red Riding Hood skirt slightly.

Tipping his hat, Liam steps down from his stool and strides over to me, extending his arm. I link mine through his, feeling a rush of familiarity as our skin touches.

"Lads, I'll be back late. Close up without me," he calls over his shoulder, his gaze locked on mine.

"Will do, boss," Seamus, the burly man red head with tattooed arms, calls back.

"Only reach out if it’s an emergency," Liam adds as we make our way to the exit. Seamus salutes and grins, white teeth flashing against the red in his beard.

Stepping into the night air, surrounded by swirling mist, I'm captivated by the magical scene. The town is a spectacle, with orange pumpkins glowing, fake cobwebs and skeletons adorning shop windows, and the delightful aroma of food vendors wafting through the air.

"Where to first?" Liam asks, his eyes sparkling under the streetlights, drawing my attention away from the sea of costumes flooding the street.

"How about something to drink?" I suggest, tilting my head back to meet his gaze.

Liam's smile widens, revealing his dimples. "I know just the place. They make the best mulled wine that'll warm you right up."

Tempted to drag him to the nearest dark corner, I shake off the thought and let him lead the way to a brightly lit marquee strung with fairy lights. We join the queue, standing close enough for me to catch a whiff of his cologne—a mix of fresh-cut grass and wood fire that sends a shiver through me.

"Are you cold?" Liam asks, his dark eyebrows arching as he steps closer.

Before I can respond, the server, a rotund man in his fifties with rosy cheeks and a jolly demeanor, booms, "Ah, Liam! Good to see you, lad! And who is this lovely lady with you?"

"Ian, meet Ava. Ava, this is Ian," Liam introduces, his voice filled with warmth.

As Ian leans over the counter to greet us, he clasps my hand warmly. His grip is firm, reassuring. "Well, aren't you a sight! Planning to make an honest man out of our Liam, are you?" he teases with a wink.

"That's enough, Ian. Don't scare her off," Liam coughs as he retrieves my hand from Ian and kisses my knuckles gently. "Let’s enjoy the evening before you start planning our wedding."

Ian laughs, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh, where’s the fun in that? Lovely to meet you, Ava. What can I get for you both tonight?"

"Two of your famous mulled wines, please," Liam requests.

"Coming right up!" Ian says, scooping the steaming, spiced wine from a large black pot into two mugs. "On the house," he adds, passing the drinks to Liam, who hands one to me.

"Thank you," I say, smiling gratefully as we walk away from the stall.

"Look forward to seeing you around, Ava!" Ian calls after us, his voice carrying over the buzz of the crowd.

We stroll further down the street, hands linked, the warmth from the mulled wine seeping through the mug into my hands. "So, you never did answer, love. Are you cold?" Liam asks, looking down at me with a playful expression.

"I'm perfectly warm, thanks," I respond, taking a deep breath to savor the rich aroma of my drink—notes of cinnamon, cloves, honey, and a hint of citrus tantalizing my senses.

"But you're shivering," he observes.

Letting go of my hand, Liam steps behind me, enveloping me in his warmth as he wraps his arms around my waist. "If it’s not the cold, what else making you shiver?" he whispers, his breath warm against my neck.

I laugh, nudging him playfully. "Maybe it's just the mulled wine."

Liam quickly places a small kiss on my exposed skin before stepping away, laughter trailing behind him. As he guides me through the bustling street, we explore various stalls. His casual touches send a warm shiver through me, and I find myself drawn even closer to him. Between perusing the offerings and making small purchases, the vibrant atmosphere envelops us in a festive warmth.

Eventually, we stop at a taco truck. "How about we grab something to eat?" Liam suggests, his voice inviting.

"Sounds perfect," I reply, feeling a mix of excitement and comfort in his presence. We line up to order, and soon we're sitting on a nearby bench, enjoying our tacos amidst the lively music.

Mid-laugh, retelling a joke he picked up earlier about a 'half a dog,' Liam's humor fills the air. "I couldn't believe it either, but then, if you think about it, half a bloody dog would indeed be something with two legs that bleeds," he concludes, and I grin at how adorable he looks.

As I reach to wipe some creamy residue from my burrito off my face, Liam gently catches my wrist, his thumb brushing away a stray smudge from the side of my mouth. His fingers linger near my cheek, pulling me slightly closer. Our breaths mix, the warmth from our bodies cutting through the cool night air.

I lean in, our lips almost meeting—

"Damn!" he curses, frustration coloring his tone as he stands to answer it. "WHAT?" His voice is a growl of annoyance.

He paces a few steps away, the phone pressed tightly to his ear. "Can't you just—fine, I'll be there in 5," he says abruptly, his body language taut with irritation.

Turning back to me, his expression softens with apology. "I'm so sorry, Ava, of all the bloody times."

"I understand. You need to go back to the bar, is everything okay?"

Frustrated, he sighs, "Yeah, just some trouble. I want to tell you that I'll be right back, but..."

"I get it. You need to go back to the bar, is everything ok?"

He sighs, a deep sound of frustration. "Yeah, just some trouble. I wish I could say I'll be right back, but..."

"It's fine, Liam," I say, standing and offering a supportive smile. "I had a perfect night. Maybe we can reschedule?"

"Reschedule, yes," he agrees, his expression torn. "Ava, I actually have to head out of town for the next two nights, but I'll be back on Tuesday. Maybe you could come by the pub? We could have dinner and," he lowers his voice, "dessert?"

The hopeful look on his face warms my heart. "Sure."

He leans in, giving me a lingering kiss on the forehead before turning to head back to Brady's. "Till Tuesday then," he calls over his shoulder.

Wandering through the last of the stalls, my feet ache and I glance at my watch; it's nearly 10:00 pm. Time to head home. Humming a tune, I walk to my car parked in far end of the shadowy backlot at Brady's due to the festival traffic.

The distant howls from the woods sends a shiver down my spine, the noise increasing the eerie vibe over the dimly lit area, reigniting the unsettling feeling of being watched that I’d felt earlier at the cabin.

As I reach my car and fumble for my keys, the air shifts behind me. Suddenly, I’m firmly pushed against the hood of my car, a body pressing against my back.

Liam...

"Miss me already?" I ask, leaning into the warmth I presume is Liam's chest.

"Always, pretty lady." A familiar voice, but the tone doesn't match Liam's, greeting me with a slurred twang. My heart drops.

Freezing, I attempt to turn around, but I'm pushed harder against the cold metal, a solid force pressing into my back.

"I think I prefer you like this, little dress, all alone, with no one in earshot. I could bend you over and..." Russell's voice trails off, his lips too close to my ear, sending shivers down my spine for all the wrong reasons.

Fear knots my stomach as I struggle against his hold. "Russell, stop! Let me go!"

He ignores me, his weight bearing down on my back, his breath reeking of alcohol. Panic surges through me as I desperately search for an escape. I know he’s stronger than me, currently having the upper hand. I take a deep breath and force my body to relax.

"Russell, why don't we go inside and have a drink?" I try to reason with him.

I shudder when I feel his wet tongue on my neck as he groans, "you smell so fucking good, so ripe, so ready." His hands move under my dress and between my legs.

"Russell, stop, please, I don't want this," I whimper, hoping the fear in my voice will snap him out of whatever he's thinking of doing.

It doesn’t, his fingers reaching the edge of my panties, wriggling to get underneath. I try to buck him off me, but that only makes him more determined, shoving them inside as I begin to cry.

Before I can scream for help, his fingers are gone, and his weight is removed with such force that I turn and glimpse his body being flung several feet backward, another presence taking his place, pushing me towards my car door.

The new person growls almost like an animal, "Leave, DON’T look back!"

Not willing to take my chances, I yank open the door, diving inside, locking it behind me, starting the engine, and reversing like a maniac.

I don't even bother to check my rearview mirror as I put the car into drive and burn out of the lot.

"Mother Fucking Asshole!" I shout as I turn onto the road, heading towards the Spur. I should call Liam about that guy, but I can't remember what I did with his number.

Oh my God, who helped me?

"Fuck!"

Skidding to a stop at my driveway when I arrive back at the cabin, I grab my stuff and race inside, ensuring to lock the door behind me.

Tonight's going to be a long night!

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Pine and spiced musk

"You’re safe now, Doe Eyes."

"You’re nearly ready!"