Chapter 3
ALARIC
Six weeks after his return
The forest paths felt different now. Not because they were. Every root, hollow and deer trail was exactly as he'd left it nearly two years ago. It felt different because she walked there, and he knew that now.
When he first returned from searching the rookies of London, he had almost sensed her in the air, as if the memory of her was woven through the filtered green light that bathed the secret places in the woods.
And so, he had decided to seek her out. To find where her footsteps crossed the paths and trace them back to her.
Now, he stood motionless in the shadow of an ancient beech, watching the road below where it curved past the edge of the woods and skirted the undergrowth.
Any moment now, she would appear. She always took this path at this time, at late afternoon when the shadows grew long.
Hanna Weatley.
He had learned her name within a week of his return. But the rest he didnt care to ask. She would tell him everything he needed to know, he just had to be patient. Follow her, watch her… let the mystery of her hold on him reveal itself.
Protect her.
That’s what he told himself, as he kept pace with her hidden within the treeline.
The woods were dangerous for a woman alone, especially as the days shortened as the seasons moved towards winter.
There were wolves in the world, and he was one of them.
Nearly two years he'd wasted chasing Sarah's ghost through London's rookeries and gin houses. Two years of searching filthy alleys and asking questions in places that made even hardened men nervous. Two years of failure that ate at him like acid.
And all the while, the girl from the woods had haunted him.
He had not been able to protect his sister, but maybe he could still save something good. Someone who called to him each time her eyes scanned the brush as her instincts whispered she was not alone.
And, although he loathed to admit it, he wanted her.
Not just in the base way a man wanted a woman. No, this was deeper. More primitive. An obsession that had only grown sharper during his absence.
She belonged to his forest. She belonged to him now.
It was that simple. That undeniable.
The sound of footsteps on the road below pulled him from his thoughts. His entire body went still, every sense focused on the figure that rounded the bend.
There.
She walked with her head down, exhaustion evident in every line of her body. She wore a faded red cloak that had seen better days, and carried a small basket clutched to her chest. Even from this distance, he could see the weariness in her posture.
His jaw clenched. She was working herself to the bone every day, and her father, that prick of a leatherworker cared not, except that she put in her hours in his workshop as well.
Not for much longer.
Alaric had already made his plans. He intended to provide for her, watch over her, and it mattered not that she know who her benefactor was. He would not tarnish her name further, but her needs were urgent, and he was determined to protect what was his.
She disappeared now around the next bend, heading toward the cottage at the end of the road.
He gave her a few moments head start, then began to follow, His gaze sharp and his steps silent as he paced through the undergrowth.
He'd been watching her for three weeks now since he had learned her habits.
He knew which paths she preferred, which shortcuts she took when she was running late, and where she paused to rest when exhaustion made her stumble.
She hadn't noticed him yet. But he knew she felt something in the woods following her from the way her eyes scanned the trees now and then.
Soon, though, she would know. Soon, he would step from the shadows.
But not quite yet.
Alaric smiled grimly as he ghosted through the trees, keeping pace with the woman who didn't yet know she belonged to him.
Soon, Hanna. Very soon.