Chapter 2
Chapter
Two
DRAKKAN
My hunger grew.
For weeks now it had gnawed at me, but now it grew to a fever pitch—an itch beneath my skin that caused me to pace through the trees and the fur of my tail to bristle as it twitched. I had hunted and fed, but nothing seemed to help.
My only solace was in lingering at the edge of the woods and watching the little witch tend her garden, just like I had since she had first come to this village years ago.
As she plunged her hands into the dirt, elbow deep, my mouth watered, and my lips pulled back from my teeth of their own accord to show off my glittering canines.
For hundreds of human lifetimes I had wandered these woods, one with the flora and fauna that sprang forth in the presence of my divine essence. I had never wanted for more, until the village sprang up, several decades ago, right near the edges of my domain.
I had found myself watching the humans go about their mundane lives with increasing fascination—wondering how they always walked in groups or danced together and laughed at each other’s words.
Something in my chest jumped and twitched like a fish out of water as I watched humans bind themselves together in pairs, tying a knot around their joined hands before pressing their lips together in what appeared to be a gesture of affection.
At first, I had been able to convince myself it was just curiosity at the ways of their kind.
But then I saw her.
She had appeared in the village nearly five summers ago. While most humans gave the shadow of my trees a large berth, this witch dared to wander close, sometimes pausing to gather mushrooms at the fringes of my domain. She did not fear my home, although perhaps she should.
Never before had I suffered a mortal to pass through my forest, seeing them only as a nuisance who would destroy the delicate balance of my existence. But she was different—unafraid. She never seemed to shy away from leaves or dirt, letting them tangle in her hair and decorate her clothing.
I became fascinated, lingering in the thinnest part of the trees and watching her work.
A new hunger grew in me, and it could not be sated by food. Instead, it lodged itself under my ribs, a strange, hollow pulling in my chest. And so, the nameless yearning became part of me, only ever eased by watching the witch in her garden.
Sometimes, when she wandered into the shadow of my trees, I would call mushrooms to life further into the woods, close enough for her to see them to draw her deeper into my domain.
It allowed me to look at her more closely without leaving the safety of the dark shadows where I hid.
I thought it might satisfy me to simply feel her presence in my domain.
But as she found the herbs and toadstools I called forth for her, she smiled, and a pang under my sternum made it clear that I needed more.
As my hunger grew, so too did my fascination with the practices of humans.
I lingered to watch the way pairs would walk along the path at the borders of my domain, their fingers interlaced.
Some would steal into the shadows of my trees to press their lips together and run their hands over each other’s bodies in a way that made pleasant shivers crawl down my spine and heaviness pool in my belly.
For centuries, these woods had been my domain, and mine alone.
Beasts of the forest courted and mated, but I paid them no mind.
Whatever physical urges I shared with animals, I could handle on my own.
But the way the humans touched each other in my shadows awoke a curiosity that only worsened my hunger.
Now, I wondered what it would be like to do these things with the witch who did not fear the woods.
What would she taste like if I pressed my lips to hers and slipped my tongue into her waiting mouth?
I wondered if tying her hand to my own clawed fingers like humans did would dispel some of the bone-deep hunger that had become integral to my existence.
I watched those hands work the dirt now as she gardened and wondered what they would feel like on my skin or wrapped around my antlers.
A growl grew in the back of my throat as another figure appeared in the garden and called my witch away, and she disappeared within the house. The inexorable itch under my skin grew in her absence, and my claws extended, digging into the soft earth where I crouched on all fours.
I refused to suffer like this any longer.
I was the god of this forest, and humans should be of no consequence to me.
The intensity of the hunger tonight was just the curse of the harvest moon.
The wolves that walked my borders were ready to hunt and their anticipation dragged me into my own state of alertness.
Turning to stalk back into the trees, a glimmer of gold caught my eye. The witch had reappeared, but the gold ornament laid atop her silver braids held my rapt attention as if she had cast a spell.
Antlers, just like my own.
My claws extended and my tail bristled, switching wildly and disturbing the thick layer of leaves and brush on the ground.
It was a sign. She knew she was mine.
My witch threw an arm around the other human woman’s shoulder with a broad smile and turned her gaze up to the darkening sky where the full moon shone.
Below the hunger that made my jaw ache to bite down on something—to claim—something dark and tender pulsed, but I pushed that away in favor of the decision taking place in my mind.
The witch had always been curious about the forest, and I could sense the way her magic twitched and danced in response to the power that awakened only under the full moon.
Tonight, I would make her mine.