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... e returning to the tree and pawing at it, whining helplessly.

What the fuck happened to her? Even if that creature had taken her, he should have been able to follow the scent trail out of the territory.

He huffed, blowing a frustrated breath out of his nose. Now what? He was reluctant to leave this spot. It was where she disappeared. If he left, it would mean giving up and admitting defeat. And then what?

The urge to howl his loss rose in his throat, but he licked at the ...

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

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Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.

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