Chapter 4
BLOSSOM
Cornstalks stretch tall above us, their towering heads swaying in a light breeze. The corn is a wall with a single opening.
“Corn maze,” I mutter before shooting a glare toward the grinning werewolf.
Of course he’s happy. Speed is going to be a huge component in this next challenge. Sure, I go jogging a few times a week. But that hasn’t prepared me to race a werewolf.
Maybe if I’d known I was going to be the Pumpkin Princess a year in advance, I could’ve joined a gym and practiced my sprinting.
But, no, I got a week to prepare myself, and now, I’m looking at the second L of the day.
Don’t think like that. Mazes take speed but also brainpower. And Manny has always been shit at directions.
One time, he grudgingly agreed to drive me to my friend’s house on the other side of Folk Haven, and he made the wrong turn at least five times. Practically doubled the travel time. I never thought I’d get to leave that car.
“Thank you, everyone, for joining us once again.” My father claims the crowd’s attention.
“I hope you enjoy the spread! Make sure to fill your plates and settle in because we’re about to say good-bye to our combatants.
Who knows when we’ll see them again?” Papa shares a grin between Manny and me from his temporary hay-bale podium.
“This corn maze is full of twists and turns that could fool even the best puzzle master.”
My father faces me with a delighted expression.
The man loves a good game. Whenever I come home for a visit, he always has a new board game for us to try out.
Usually, it is Papa, Heather, and me playing.
But they often invite Manny to join, and I have to sit across from the wolf and tolerate his teasing taunts, cocky moves, and intense stares.
Now, the board game is life-sized, and Papa is giddy.
“Hmm. Alone in a maze with Blossom Fernmore. What could happen?” Manny smirks my way.
“Most likely, I’ll beat you so bad that you’ll be too ashamed to come out,” I sling back, voice full of pure confidence that I don’t feel. “Better get cozy in there. It’s gonna be your new home.”
The wolf’s rumbling laugh disappears under the boom of my father’s voice.
“Now, here’s the tricky part, pumpkin competitors.
You’re not simply finding your way out. You have a goal.
” Papa taps his nose, eyes twinkling, and I think he could have done well as a TV game show host. “Inside the maze, deep in the twisting alleys of corn, are two scarecrows. They sit equal distance from this entry point.” He waves at the break in the stalks in front of us.
“To win, you must find a scarecrow and bring it with you on your exit journey. The winner is the first to return here with your scarecrow companion. However long that takes.”
“Take your time!” Owen calls out from his spot by the cider keg. “We’ve got plenty to drink while you’re away.”
A cheer goes up from the crowd as they raise their glasses in a toast.
“I’m sure Manny would give you time to kick a keg. But I’m planning on getting back before the next round is poured,” I shout back, grinning at the cackles from my witchy supporters.
Manny scoffs. “Think you can outrun me, Bud?”
At first, I was sure I couldn’t. The man is part wolf after all.
But now, my magic thrums to life as my gaze glides over the field of corn before me.
This isn’t some paved road in the middle of the city. I’ll be running over dirt and roots and the living earth that sings to the power under my skin.
“We’ll see.” I crouch down to untie my shoes. The soles of my sneakers suddenly feel too thick and clunky on my feet. I need my skin against soil. My wood witch magic wants to touch the growing things of the world.
“Contenders,” Papa bellows, “please approach the starting line.”
There’s a white line spray-painted on the grass ten feet from the entrance to the maze. Manny and I step up to the marker. I can feel the wolf’s eyes on me, but I refuse to look his way.
“On your mark … get set … GO!” The shout is accompanied by the blare of a horn.
We dive forward. Manny reaches the entrance a step before me and immediately veers right. I choose the left route, wanting distance from him. Besides, there are two scarecrows to find. No reason for us to stay close.
With the sun starting to dip low in the sky, I have a good sense of direction, heading northeast toward what I believe is the middle of the maze.
Sometimes, I have to make a series of quick turns, and sometimes, there’re long, straightaway stretches.
I prefer the latter because I can let my muscles loose and fly.
My hands dance in the air, calling out magical greetings to the corn. It’s as though the very earth is moving my legs for me, powering me forward at a speed I’ve never reached before.
This—a wild running—might be what I’ve missed most about Folk Haven.
Living among the human population means adhering to certain social standards. Like don’t run barefoot in the woods. I’ve had to train myself not to loathe jogging down a neatly paved path. One where everything is curated on either side, as if nature was always meant to be organized.
But when I run like this, there is no structure. Only exhilaration.
As much as the sensation threatens to intoxicate me, I maintain my focus on the branching paths, always on the lookout until—there!
From the corner of my eye, I spot a flash of red.
I turn my eager feet toward the break in the stalks where I spied the color, leaping into the small clearing to find a hay-filled scarecrow, dressed in a red flannel shirt.
“Got you!” I lunge forward and yank the straw-filled man off its wooden post before turning back the way I came.
There’s no sign of Manny. Which could mean that he’s still wandering aimlessly in this tangle of corn-strewn walkways.
Or maybe he found the other scarecrow and is already on his way back to the entrance.
Unwilling to let him claim victory, I gesture with my free fingers, seeking out the teasing magic within my soul, drawing on more of nature’s power to give my feet gas. Sprinting, I choose paths that lead me southwest, my eyes on the sun and the gaps in the corn ahead of me.
Then, I hear it.
The steady thump, thump, thump of pounding feet.
I round a corner and almost collide with a sweaty Manny. The wolf is breathing hard, pieces of corn sticking to his glistening skin, long brown hair tangled around his chin.
And in his right hand, he clutches a floppy scarecrow of his own.
“Hey, Bud.” When his eyes drop to my inanimate companion, a grin takes over his mouth. “Well, look at that. You’re keeping up.”
“Get out of my way.” I dodge around his hulking form and push my legs to go faster.
But just like at the wedding, I sense his presence looming behind me. Only the wolf doesn’t overtake me, but instead keeps pace. After multiple turns and him not making any move to pass me, I can’t put up with my annoying shadow any longer.
I whirl on him with my most seething glare. “What are you doing?”
Manny attempts an innocent expression. “Nothing.”
“You’re following me.”
“We’re headed to the same place,” he points out.
“Well, get there on your own!”
The wolf tilts his head, wearing the most infuriating smirk. “Why would I do that?”
And as much as his answer enrages me, his strategy also makes sense.
There’s no point for him to break off from me, not when he can beat me in an all-out sprint.
If we part ways, I might happen upon the exit before he does.
But if Manny stays by my side, he can overtake me the moment we find the break in the corn.
The wolf wants me to solve this maze for him.
“You’re such an asshole,” I hiss.
“Am I?” He leans toward me with something in his eyes that I can’t interpret. “Maybe I’m just doing everything I can to get you to stay.”
The bet. Of course that’s on his mind.
“Why? So you can torture me on a daily basis?”
Manny lets out a huff that sounds exasperated. “I can think of a lot of things I want to do with you, Blossom Fernmore. But torture is not one of them.”
I narrow my eyes at the wolf the same moment he reaches out to catch a lock of my hair that’s come free from my ponytail to tease my cheek. Gently, he tucks the strand behind my ear.
“What are you doing?”
Is that my voice? Why do I sound so breathless?
Must be from all the running.
He gives me a rueful smile. “I’m trying to figure out how to convince you to want me the way that I want you.”
I choke on my next breath, shocked by his confession.
Manny Ramirez wants me?
No. This can’t be real. He’s up to something.
That’s when I see his other hand out of the corner of my eye. Reaching for me.
No, wait. He must be reaching for my scarecrow. No doubt he’s planning on chucking it over the closest wall of corn so I have to scramble to find it while he sprints off to victory.
And he thinks I won’t notice because of this half-assed seduction attempt?
Well, two can play at that game.
And I don’t do anything half-assed.
“Manny.” I groan his name, trying to sound needy, and I swear there’s a spark of fire in his eyes. Triumph at fooling me most likely.
Then, I lunge forward, wrapping an arm around his neck and pressing my mouth to his, as if all I want in the world is to devour his intoxicatingly delicious tongue.
I don’t, of course.
This is all a ploy.
A ploy I’ll put into effect in just … a moment.
The wolf, who’s been teasing and tormenting me since I was a teenager, grunts in surprise.
Then, he kisses me back. Hard and heady. The sensation so intense that my calculating brain is almost overwhelmed.
But not quite.
After taking a longer-than-planned moment to sup on his savory, warm mouth, I force my focus to get through the haze his solid body and hot kisses have cast over my brain.
Behind Manny’s neck, where the wolf can’t see, I twist my hands in the pattern of coaxing.
Magic is an interesting thing. Part instinct, part trained direction.
Some witches use words and substances to manipulate the powers of the world.
Fernmore witches use our hands, speaking to the growing things through intricate finger movements.
The tingle of my magic surges, and my palms glow green, drawing the nearby roots to me. I feel them respond in the ground, rising through layers of soil to do my bidding.
“Gods, Blossom,” Manny groans against my mouth. “I want you.”
The moment he breaks contact enough to speak the words, I fully regain a handle on myself.
Well, mostly regain a handle. My pulse is still hammering in an erratic rhythm.
I shove away from the tricky wolf, skipping back a few extra steps to make sure I’m out of his reach.
“You almost had me. But I’m not falling for it,” I taunt. “Have fun detangling yourself. I’ll see you at the finish line.”
I stick around just long enough to watch as Manny’s wide eyes drop to his lower half.
While he was distracted by my awesome kissing skills, I had roots carefully but firmly entomb his legs from his thighs down.
“What the fuck?”
He barks out another few curses, but I have trouble hearing them over my laughter as I sprint away.