Chapter 2

James

I hate them all. These puny humans scurry over the earth as though they own it, even though they wouldn't survive five minutes alone in these fields. With their tiny, weak bodies and their reliance on cell phones, they'd lose their way amid the stalks and wander forever. If they hadn't mowed the land around the farmhouse and barn, they'd have nowhere to gather and play their stupid little games.

Times have changed since my first visit to the farm. Wind whistles over the torn leather of my varsity jacket.

Five decades ago, when I was still human, my teammates and I came here. The paths through the corn maze were much simpler and narrower than they are today. It was the perfect place to sneak away with your partner and enjoy a roll in the dirt together. As the star quarterback, I was at the top of my game and enjoyed many cheerleaders and fans that night.

I scowl.

Ever since Sathanas desecrated my soul and flooded my body with his unnatural power, my insides may as well be straw. I'm nothing but a conductor of his ominous energy, warning all these stupid humans away.

I'm a scarecrow. My only purpose is to stop humans from discovering Sathanas' portal to The Knottiverse. Hidden in a field in the middle of nowhere, the Halloween Keeper thought his portal would be safe here, but some stupid dipshit founded a tourist attraction nearby. And here I am.

My teammates and I never would have come if we'd known what dangers lurked in the fields.

I'm the danger now. It's me. I'm the scariest, most lethal creature for miles.

Only one other creature can compete with my power. I glare at my mortal enemy as he hangs from the post on the opposite side of the festivities.

The city slicker is the entire reason I'm trapped in this shallow existence. If it weren't for his anger issues, we'd be at a ripe old age after having lived a long, satisfying life.

Stuck in a hate-fueled loop, we've circled the portal for five decades, never speaking, never meeting, always staying as far apart as our tether to The Knottiverse will allow us.

Sathanas knew what he was doing when he turned us. He needed two sentinels to keep the gateway secure. Our abhorrence for each other ensures we keep our distance and constantly protect a larger area.

We did kill each other, after all.

Drawn to the supernatural power surging through the wooden posts every dusk and dawn, we can't leave our tiny platforms until after the transition between morning and night each day.

As the wind rustles the corn stalks and brushes against my face, the sweetest scent invades my nostrils. My nemesis' attention sharpens, so I follow his line of sight and focus on the petite blonde walking down the hill with her friends.

Lust punches down my spine and pools in my balls. My cock hardens for the first time in over five decades. The wind plasters her sweater to her curves, and I enjoy a glimpse of her high, pert breasts, trim waist, and round hips.

She's mine. I need her.

With doll-like features and total princess vibes, she's my ideal target for Halloween night. As the veil between realms thins, Sathanas demands we offer him more sacrifices to maintain the balance and secrecy of his portal. The fear of our victims strengthens his power.

I haven't touched a living thing in decades, unless you want to count the corn, which I don't. I want the little curvy, blue-eyed blonde to break my dry streak.

I ache with anticipation.

When the human male next to her throws his arm over her shoulders, she gives him the sourest side look I've ever seen.

Feral hunger barrels through me. I need to claim her. Tame her. Own her. Taste her.

The faint hints of her pheromones on the breeze are not enough. I need to bury my face between her thighs and cover myself with her scent.

When the male tries to tug her away from her friend, she clings tighter to the female and pushes him away.

I'll kill him for touching what's mine. Red hazes my vision as he grabs her elbow and attempts to reason with her. Disgust and fury spear through my soul as I narrow my focus to where he touches her, enhancing the evil energy coursing through my body. I hate seeing his hands on her. He'll suffer a slow, agonizing death.

As the light fades from the sky, the power from The Knottiverse branches away from the post, no longer condensed in the wood. It creeps along the ground, creating a renewed barrier around the empty field behind me, and spreads deeper into the earth until the tie between my desecrated soul and supernatural body hums with vigor. My anticipation grows as I draw closer to freedom.

I peel my arms off the support beam and roll my shoulders.

The pathetic human male backs off when she continues to glare at him.

I want her eyes on me. Only me.

The fire in her gorgeous blue orbs hardens my cock to steel and partially inflates the knot at the base of my shaft.

My jealousy flares when she turns her attention to her female friend.

I do not want to share. At all.

An odd tugging in my chest lifts my gaze to the creature I hate most in the world. The city slicker peels his hungry eyes from her frame and meets my stare.

Hatred barrels through me, but when he yanks his left arm free of the support beam and flexes his gloved hand, lewd pictures flash through my mind.

The little blonde would look gorgeous with his massive hand wrapped around her delicate throat. She'd writhe, fight, and beg as he cupped her breasts, pinched her nipples, and sank his gloved digits between her legs from behind while I stroked my cock and covered her in my seed. Lust pulses in my balls as I imagine how sexy the contrast between her pale flesh and his black gloves would be.

I snarl and snap back into reality.

He doesn't deserve to look at her, much less touch her. Five decades ago, I stole his woman with little effort. He's not fit to go near the curvy blonde.

Stupid yank. He couldn't protect his female then and he won't this time either.

I quirk a brow and tilt my head as he pulls his right arm off his support beam and cracks his neck.

He's closer to the corn maze, but nightfall will reach me first.

I'll free myself and knot the little blonde before he even steps down from his platform.

I drop one sneaker to the dirt and taunt him with a sneer.

The delicious scent of ripe female fades from my nostrils as she disappears into the maze with her friends.

I roll my shoulders and jerk my foot free of the platform. Sathanas' power sizzles through me. I shake out my arms, send a condescending glance toward my rival, and slip into the cornfield. Taller than the stalks, I drop into a predatory crouch and circle around the farm with ease.

I relish the discomfort of my engorged cock in my trousers. It's been too long since I've felt the stirrings of desire. The tiny female won't know what hit her.

As I approach the maze, the pungent odors of alcohol and humans clog my nostrils. I curl my lip in disgust and creep toward my target's aura as she meanders through the back corner of the maze with her friends.

Her clear, high voice carries on the breeze. The anger and frustration in her tone send liquid desire down my shaft. Without shame, I feel no embarrassment as wetness leaks from my tip and soaks into my trousers.

I step onto the path in front of her.

Her friend screams and scrambles backward, but my target stops like a deer in the headlights and stares at me with big, terrified eyes. The terror emanating from her satisfies me more than any other human ever has before, and for a moment, I enjoy pilfering her emotions, until I realize the energy flowing from her bypasses the normal route to Sathanas and embeds itself into my soul.

I stare at her in shock as a partial tie forms between our hearts.

Impossible. Scarecrows do not mate and mark. We are mere sentinels for Sathanas' portal.

I need to mount her. Now.

When her friend grabs her arm and drags her backward, I snarl and step toward them.

"Sylvia, quit it. It's just a costume. He can't hurt us."

Despite the terror in her eyes, she displays bravery in her spine of steel and firm tone.

Except she's wrong.

"Be careful what you promise your friends, tiny one. There are so many ways I plan to hurt and play with you tonight."

Her startled inhale fills me with pride.

The thick perfume of her arousal punches me in the gut as I take another menacing step toward her. I hum low in my throat as I recognize the earthy scents of pumpkin and spice.

"Now be a good girl and run," I snarl as predatory hunger hazes my periphery. All I see is her.

Her friend gives a nervous laugh and tugs at her arm again.

"Alright, Heather, he was cool from across the field, but up close, he's creepy as fuck. I want to leave," Sylvia whines.

I keep my eyes trained on my target, replaying her name in my head. Heather.

"Do most women run away from you?"

Her unexpected snark and guarded eyes as she looks me up and down heighten my interest.

"Females, males, humans, monsters—anyone with half a brain runs from me. Tell me, pumpkin, do you have any brains in that pretty little head, or is it there just so I can fuck that tempting mouth?"

Despite the thickening of her pheromones in the breeze, she glares at me. My cock pulses in my jeans. Her impertinent fury makes me want her more.

When Sylvia pulls her arm again, I snap. I've had enough.

I break her friend's neck, turn, and enjoy the emotions playing across my omega's face as she watches her friend fall to the ground. The lifeless thud of Sylvia's body, coupled with the horrible angle of her neck, pronounces her undeniably dead.

"Run, my spicy little pumpkin, so I can have a proper taste of you," I snarl.

With agonizing slowness, she lifts her gaze to mine, and for a moment, neither of us moves, but when I reach for her, she bolts between the stalks of corn.

I chuckle and roll my shoulders, giving her enough of a head start to enjoy a bit of a chase before I capture her. The more distance between us and the rest of these smelly humans, the better.

She's mine. All mine.