16 - His to Claim

GILDEON

He trudged up the narrow dirt trail, eyes locked on the abandoned farmhouse behind the broken wooden fence. It was laughable how people spun stories about this place, scaring the shit out of themselves. Haunted, they said. The rumor was that the old woman who died here had cursed the land—anyone who dared set foot inside would end up dead. That kept most folks away, speeding up as they passed the hill.

To him, it sounded like the perfect hideout for someone on the run, like Roselia. Except now, she’d made him hike up the trail five times, never letting him reach the farmhouse gates.

He halted, panting a little. He’d indulged her vindictive theatrics long enough. “You can stop this stunt now, Roselia!” he shouted, hands on his hips. “Let me in, or I’ll start burning this place down.”

Right on cue, a middle-aged woman in a violet dress appeared at the top of the trail, her long copper hair swaying in the breeze. Her lips were pursed, hands clasped in front.

“What do you need, My