Chapter 10
Mora
Every shade of green imaginable fluttered around Mora, the colors so vibrant it was nearly blinding. Shimmering hues of emerald, pine, and viridian, as far as the eye could see. Rays of sunlight trickled through the canopy, crawling down, down, down until they kissed the forest floor.
That’s where she was. A forest. It was the oddest thing. One moment, she’d laid her head to rest against the damp, stony floor of a secret passage, dust crowding her senses, the next she was inhaling fresh, earthy air.
Taking a tentative step forward, she realized her feet were bare, soft moss cushioning her soles. Stretching her toes, Mora took a deep, cleansing breath and looked around.
What an odd dream.
Creatures flitted by, moving so quickly she thought they were hummingbirds.
Until one stopped, hovering in the air as it adjusted the delicate bluebell it wore on its head.
Iridescent wings caught the light, a rainbow prism shimmering along their surface.
Mora had seen tiny beings like them in carvings—was this a pixie?
Was she dreaming of the Forbidden Forest?
It looked past her, lips flattening into a thin line before it squawked and flew away.
Her brows furrowed. What a strange little thing.
Mora ran her hand along the rough ridges of an elm tree’s bark, moving deeper into the woods.
Relishing in the feel of the cool, pine-laced breeze playing in her hair.
It was refreshing, caressed by hints of petrichor and mint.
She’d spent little time among trees, and only those grown by Naturalists throughout Berwick.
Their forests were smaller. Sparser. Lacking in something that permeated this space, saturating the very air.
Branches brushed along her arms, leaves tickling her skin as they traced the path of her veins. Goosebumps rising in their wake.
It was almost like they were reaching for her, the entire forest bending in her direction.
A shiver ran up her spine, but she couldn’t convince herself to stop, enthralled by a song dancing on the winds. The cadence weaving itself around her heart. Spreading its warmth throughout her chest. Calling to her. Beckoning her to move deeper into the Forbidden Forest’s embrace.
When she met a wall of bramble, it shifted, leaves rustling as a path appeared. Mora smoothed her hand down her soft, white dress—a dress she did not recognize, the fabric a delicate gossamer—and moved ahead until dried strands of dying grass tickled her ankles.
An enormous, decaying tree sat in the middle of the dead meadow, its gnarled branches twisted. Bending almost painfully. Devoid of any leaves. But that wasn’t what made Mora’s breath catch.
“You!” she hissed.
Endless obsidian eyes lit by starlight and saturated in sadness took her in, the silence stretching between them.
Mora’s heart fluttered when he approached.
“Hello, Little Witch.”
That deep voice was softer than she remembered. Gentler. Soothing the jagged pieces of her soul. And his scent...
Damn the gods, she could get drunk on it. What was wrong with her? That was what she’d unknowingly chased through the woods, the same aroma that had sheltered her through many of the long nights she’d spent trapped in Dother’s bed. Though she’d never understood it.
Why am I dreaming of the male from the alley?
Raven black hair tickled his forehead and brushed his delicately pointed ears. Mora swallowed, her words trapped in her throat. He was beautiful. Beyond reason. The lines of his cheekbones begging to be traced by a delicate touch.
Or bruised by a brutal fist.
Gods, she hated him.
She curled her fingers and glared up at him, hoping he saw nothing but ire in her eyes. “Hello, Fae.”
“Are you here to burn me again?” He huffed an unamused laugh through his nose, fingers grazing over his abdomen. Dark eyes slipping over her face until they landed on her lips. “I suppose it’s fitting.”
Something cracked behind them. The Fae’s head snapped toward the sound, the color draining from his olive skin until no warmth remained.
Mora followed his stare, searching the bramble. The path she’d walked was gone, thorny branches knitted together like a wall, shadows dancing among the trees at their backs... but there was something glinting among them.
Azure.
She stilled.
No.
No, no, no!
The Fae muttered something, but she couldn’t hear it over her the percussive thrash of her pulse.
Dother smiled. That same grin he’d worn the day he’d made her... his.
Crushed under the weight of those too-bright eyes, Mora sank to her knees, choking on citrus.
“Little Witch?”
A soft touch landed on her shoulder, the heat of it soaking into her skin.
She almost leaned into it, but then Dother stepped closer and every part of Mora tensed.
Bramble shifted, leaves rustling as they pushed back against him.
He stopped, a divot forming on his cheek while he watched the Fae’s thumb gently sweep over Mora’s skin.
“Treasure,” he hissed through clenched teeth.
Gasping for air, Mora bolted upright, swaying as the room spun.
Gray stone walls dusted in cobwebs hanging like curtains greeted her, musty air filling her lungs.
There was a time this hidden passage served as her secret way to flee the castle and explore Moldenna.
Now it sheltered them for the night, the world they fled less pleasant than the life she once knew.
“What is it?” Castellan asked, yawning as he looked up from his parchment. When he saw her face, he frowned, brows knitting with concern. “Are you all right?” He placed his quill on the floor and folded his papers before rising, but Mora didn’t want him near.
“Don’t,” she whispered between breaths, curling her arms around her knees. “It was a dream.”
Darkness stained the skin beneath his tired eyes. He nodded, returning to his perch across from her and resting his head on his royal blue knapsack. Barely clinging to this realm.
“It was just a dream,” she breathed once more, clinging to the words.
Dother wasn’t there. It was simply a cruel figment conjured by her broken mind.
He was dead.
Dead.
Dead.
Dead.
Warmth lingered on her shoulder, mint and summer rain, gently entwined with hints of pine clinging to her skin. It held her through each panicked breath.