Chapter Five #8
“Your scent.” He breathed deep. “I smelled you the second you entered my woods and have been following you ever since.”
I tensed. My senses were right. There were unseen eyes in the dark.
“If you will not accept my protection, then take my advice.” He picked up the flowers and gave them to me. “Use these. Rub them on yourself. The smell of the flowers will obscure your scent.”
“But if I do, I’ll glow.”
“A glow is easily hidden by a large tree. A scent is not.”
That logic could not be argued. Quickly, I crushed the starflowers and rubbed them over my face, arms, stomach—everywhere.
“Thank you, Meallan.”
“You are most welcome, Princess Ana. Hopefully when the opportunity arises, you will return the favor and lend me your aid.”
“I can’t,” I said bluntly. “I’m not staying. That’s what all of this is for. If I avoid him until daybreak, I’m free. I’ll return home.”
He shrugged. “The path of freedom leads one down many roads. By Meya’s fate, ours will converge once again.”
“Well, if it does, then sure. I’ll return the favor.”
“Thank you.” Meallan moved back, returning to the shadows. “Goodbye, Lady Ana, Queen of Nothing, owned by no one.”
I blinked and he was gone, leaving me unsettled. I wasn’t sure if his parting comment was an insult or a compliment. I had a feeling it was a little of both.
“Strange place,” I muttered, heading far away from the cliff and the dark pit Meallan called home. “Strange people.”
I had no flowers to light my way, and didn’t need them. My body was one big starflower, casting back the darkness as I stepped lightly on the path, heading deeper into the woods.
It wasn’t long before I found myself in another clearing, this one more beautiful than the last.
Starflowers gathered around a pond, dancing a merry shake as rabbits chased each other along the bank and through the glowing reeds. The long stems reached high, tickling the backs of two fawns gently lapping at the water. Large, graceful wings sprouted from their backs.
The deer raised their heads when I approached, took me in, then returned to their drink.
A heavy weight landed on my shoulder, almost startling a cry out of me. My brows blew up when a small, furry head stuck its face in mine, inspecting me closely.
The little monkey must’ve been satisfied because he chittered at the trees, and the trees chittered back—proving he had a couple friends up there waiting for the verdict.
Unlike the impossible rabbits and deer, I saw no wings on the monkey, but he was still different. His coat was much thicker, heavier, and warmer than the monkeys of the Beharra Forest. This little critter was built for the cold.
“What is this place?” I breathed, stroking his soft fur. “How can this forest be dead, bleak, and desolate, while also being beautiful, enigmatic, and wondrous? How did you all get here?” A rabbit flew up to the trees. “How did you become... this?”
The monkey screeched and leapt off my shoulder. I assumed that was his answer.
Laughing, I took a seat in the amazing place, deciding then to make it my hiding place. I was surrounded my more starflowers. They’d further obscure my scent. “My”—the word wouldn’t leave my lips—“won’t believe when I tell them of this. No one will.
“So much beauty in a nightmare.”
“Poetic.”
I bolted upright, moving only half as fast as the animals. They bolted out of the clearing so fast, they kicked up a wave of snow that showered my back.
Alisdair slithered out of the dark—the trickster’s smirk baring his fangs. “Oh, my dear, you’re glowing. I’m flattered.”
I moved as he moved, maintaining our distance—edging around the pond.
“How did you find me?” I croaked. Did Meallan lie? Did I cover myself with a beacon instead of a barrier?
“Of course, I found you. You are just like these flowers...” He bent slowly, eyes fixed on me as he plucked one off its stem. “Meek, pointless, decorative, and so terrified of the dark, you cling to the light.” He flung the pretty thing over his shoulder.
“Come to me,” he growled like a wild animal. “This will be neither quick nor gentle nor loving, and still you will enjoy nothing more.”
I choked, knees knocking together. What a way to describe our first joining as faeman and wife. “You haven’t caught me yet,” I replied when I found my voice. “And you won’t. I will never—”
I dropped down, grabbed a fistful of snow and mud and flung it in his face. I was off before his roar hit my ears.
No sneaking, no hiding, no flowers, no time. I ran as fast as my borrowed legs could carry me, crashing through brush and scattering every critter in my path. He couldn’t catch me.
No matter what it took, I would outlast him until the dawn, and get back to my family.
Heavy footfalls thundered behind me, trumpeting his pursuit. Snarling, I ran faster.
Shadowsoul looked at me and saw a pointless, decorative princess. That night would be the night he learned to never underestimate a woman inside for the pretty wrapping outside.
I was no princess. I was the girl who ran from bullies nearly every day of her life. There was a reason they all slunk home at the end of the day, cursing their failure. A slipperier girl than I did not exist.
A low-hanging branch loomed ahead. I grabbed it without hesitating, flipped, and landed on my toes. From branch to branch I climbed, scrabbled, and skittered up the tree as easy as a monkey.
There was a reason the forest animals did not fear me.
They knew I was one of them—a child of the forest. The forest was where we fae belonged, if not for our ancients envying the humans and wanting cities, gold, and government for ourselves, we’d still live in the forests and they wouldn’t have turned against us for the slight.
But not this poor dead and withered place. It carried no ill will.
“Argh!”
Not like the enraged beast coming after me.
The tree shook with his pursuit, almost shaking me off its side.
Snap!
I smirked at the hard, unforgiving thud echoing off the ground. The fae were natural climbers and children of the forest. The same could not be said for that too-handsome, faeriken monster below.
Right then, I thanked the terrible curse that made these trees grow wild and too close together. It made it all the more easy for me to flit from branch to branch—out of reach of Alisdair.
His roar echoed through the night, and faded in the distance.
I flit from tree to tree until I lost him.
Silence reigned as I climbed down, dropping lightly on my feet.
I could barely hold in a laugh. The silly man thought he had me.
I bet he was proud of himself, finding me in the starflower clearing right where he expected, sneaking up on me with his snark and sneer.
All that to get a fistful of mud in his face, and a sore bottom from falling on his ass.
This will be easy, I thought, leaning against an oak. All too easy.
“Tired already, little bird?”
My head snapped up, locking on the naked and hard figure reclining on the tree branch above me.
“We’re just getting started.”
“How!” I cried. “You were behind me. A mile behind. How are you here!”
He only chuckled. “Shall I take you now, or should we continue our dance a little longer?”
“Please.” The truth raged and battered against my lips, desperate to come out. “You don’t understand. You don’t want me.”
“You...” Alisdair reached down and stroked my cheek. “Are all I want.”
I ducked him and backed away. Alisdair dropped out of the tree and followed—a predator tracking his prey.
“Listen,” I began, forcing a laugh. “We’ve said and done a lot of things to each other in this short time, but I know deep down, you don’t want our first time as man and wife to be—”
“Argh!” He tore the scant robe from my body.
I was wrong.
My back collided with rough, cold bark. Alisdair slammed his hands down on either side of my head, penning me in. Seemed continuing our dance was off the table. He was taking his prize.
Now.
“Not here,” I tried. He plastered against me, heating my chilled body to life. “You have a castle. Chambers. A bedroom. Take me there.”
“I could never dishonor you so, my queen. Mating is raw, dirty, and primal. We lock it away behind closed doors out of shame, but you, should never be hidden.” He tugged sharply on my hair, snapping my chin up and ripping free a cry. Or was it a moan?
“Let the clouds part and the moon finally shine its light in greed to see me bond with my true mate... and fuck her like a common nightwalker.”
“What non-sense are you spouting!” My voice cracked, breath hitching at the seeking, stroking hand climbing my thigh. “You have to listen to me. I’m not—not—not— Agh!”
“Our promises are inked on our skin, little queen. For as long as you run, I will chase. Tell me”—deep, treacherous pools drowned me—“have you stopped running?”
My chest heaved, pushing against him. I knew what he was asking.
I rose on tiptoe, digging my chin into his scruffle—baring my teeth like fangs. I spoke, strong and clear, “Never.”
His lips crashed on mine, swallowing a cry that was undoubtedly a moan. I couldn’t help it. His fingers had ended their exploration, and found their destination between my legs.
This couldn’t be happening. Was I truly to lose my maidenhood in the forest, against a tree, while trapped in another’s body? For all my caution with love, lust, and young men’s promises. For all my mother’s warnings. Nothing could’ve prepared me for this.
And even less could stop it.
Alisdair caught me fairly, and laughably, easy. He was one hard, punishing thrust from completing the ceremony, and making himself the rightful heir to Lyrica and the eventual destruction of Elva as we knew it.
He was also one thrust away from binding himself under my demands. For as long as the runes were in power, he had to repeat this dance every night—giving me a chance to run away, and honoring our deal if I succeeded.
Open, glaring eyes burned each other even as his mouth devoured mine.