“Do you live here alone?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said. Then, after a pause that sounded like a decision, he added, “Not tonight.”
Before Valora could answer, a sudden pounding shook the cabin door. Her body seized. Her heart slammed against her ribs. Thorly’s expression hardened, all warmth replaced by something sharp and ready.
He crossed the room and lifted a shotgun from the corner. “Get into the cellar,” he said quietly, pointing to a trap door hidden beneath the rug. “Now.”
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