Chapter Six
Though I had spent my entire life in Autumn's Hollow, I had never once ventured beyond the treeline.
Not really. I'd skirted the edge of the Whispering Pines as a kid, daring myself and my friends to take a few steps in before bolting back out, breathless and giddy on adrenaline.
But I'd never gone deep. Never crossed the invisible line that separated the Hollow from whatever secrets sat buried in those woods.
Until now.
The cold, damp air pressed in around me as I stood at the forest's edge for the second time in twenty-four hours, staring into the shadows between the towering pines.
The wind whistled soft through the branches, carrying that same familiar whisper — persistent, low, like a voice calling my name from somewhere just out of reach.
I'd told myself I wouldn't come back. Not after last night.
Not after the shadow I'd seen slipping between the trees, the voice that had followed me home and refused to let go once I was there.
I should have known better. But the pull had been too strong, tugging at me all night, keeping me awake with vivid, restless dreams of the forest and the twisted oak from my vision.
I hadn't even been able to settle Winnie, my orange tabby, on my lap without swearing I could hear my name buried somewhere in her purring.
I didn't want to spend the rest of my life like this. On edge. Wondering if something was broken in me. Wondering if I'd disappear too, the way my dad had.
I'd told Orias I was heading out to sort a delivery mix-up at the shop — extra flour that had come in wrong, a supplier issue that needed sorting before the morning bake.
It wasn't even a full lie. There had been a delivery mix-up.
I'd just used it to buy myself an hour he thought I was spending somewhere completely different from where I actually was.
I hated lying to him. Genuinely hated it, the sick little twist it put in my stomach every time I did it, because he'd never once given me a reason to.
But I hadn't seen another way to get out here without him insisting on coming, or worse, insisting I didn't go at all.
And some stubborn, reckless part of me needed to see this through myself.
Taking a breath, I stepped forward, my boots sinking into soft earth as I crossed the boundary between town and forest. The trees loomed overhead, branches swaying gently, casting long, jagged shadows across the ground.
The deeper I went, the darker it got, the last of the daylight swallowed by the canopy despite it being barely past six in the morning.
The air here was cooler, thicker, like it was holding its breath around something. Every step echoed, the rustle of leaves under my boots the only sound in an otherwise silent forest. Even the birds had gone quiet, like they knew better than to make noise in a place like this.
I wasn't sure what I was looking for, or if I was looking for anything at all. All I knew was that the forest had been calling me in like a tide, and there was something here I needed to understand.
I pushed deeper, the path narrowing and going more overgrown the further I walked. The trees closed in overhead, branches knitting into an almost solid canopy, blotting out what little sky was left. The whispers grew louder, more insistent, curling around me like a breeze urging me forward.
"Amber," they called.
My name, carried on the wind like a secret meant only for me. I stopped, heart hammering. There it was again — the same voice from my dream, closer now, more solid. Like someone was whispering right beside me.
My breath caught as I glanced around, half expecting to see someone standing at my shoulder. The forest stayed empty. Shadows long and still.
"This is insane," I muttered under my breath. "You're acting like a fucking lunatic, Amber Halloway."
I should have turned back. Gone home, locked the door, stayed as far from that forest as I could get.
Instead I took another step forward, curiosity winning out over every ounce of good sense I had left.
The forest kept pulling, its magic wrapping around me like something with intent, shielding me from the rest of the world.
I couldn't explain it. I just felt connected to it, like I was always meant to end up exactly here.
The path narrowed further, and I found myself stepping over fallen branches, ducking under low vines as I pushed through the thick underbrush. The whispers rose, almost overwhelming now, a chorus of voices all saying the same word.
And then I saw it.
The oak.
It stood at the center of a small clearing, trunk twisted and gnarled, branches stretched out like reaching arms. The air around it felt different — colder, denser, like the tree itself gave off its own kind of pressure. I stopped just short of the clearing, breath catching.
It was the same tree from my dream. I was certain of it.
The whispers climbed louder, more urgent, and for a second I thought I saw something moving among the branches. A shadow, shifting, writhing, almost alive.
I tugged at the end of my pink and orange braid and took a step closer, pulse racing —
Before I could reach the tree, a figure stepped out into the clearing, blocking my path.
I froze. My heart slammed up into my throat, and every other thought I'd been carrying into these woods vanished at once, because I knew him. Instantly. Before he'd even fully cleared the shadow of the oak, before he'd said a single word.
"Rowan."
His name left me before I'd decided to say it, and I watched it land on him the same way — watched the recognition hit his face in real time, all that careful stillness cracking straight down the middle.
"Amber." My name came out of him low and rough, disbelieving, like he hadn't let himself expect to say it again.
Three years. Three years of nothing, and here he was, black hair pushed back off his face, dark clothes doing nothing to hide the sheer size of him against the treeline.
He'd always felt bigger than the room around him, even as a kid, but this was different.
This was a kind of bigger that made the whole clearing feel smaller just for holding him.
Oh, I wanted to punch the big bastard in his stupid fucking face.
His eyes caught what little light made it through the canopy and glowed — pink bleeding to violet at the edges, exactly the way I remembered, exactly the color that had haunted half my teenage years without me admitting it to a single soul because...
Because I couldn't get them out of my head. To the point I knew the difference in the twins eye colors. I knew the tiniest of discrepencies in them both.
I could tell the twins apart in the darkness with my eyes screwed shut because whatever magic ran through this town had imprinted them onto my damn soul.
Neither of us moved for a long moment. The air between us shimmered, charged, the wind stirring leaves around our feet like the forest itself was reacting to two people who hadn't stood this close in far too long.
"You're back," I finally managed, voice smaller than I meant it to be.
"I'm back."
"You didn't call." It came out sharper than I intended, three years of it rising up all at once.
"I did not call." He drawled.
Something about his calmness made me enraged.
"You left after the funeral and you never called.
Not once. Do you have any idea—" I stopped myself before my voice could crack all the way open.
"I missed you. That's all. I missed you so much it was stupid.
And I hate your guts because you kissed me and then you left.
And I felt like a prick for years on end.
And I can't event look at Orias without thinking of you because your stupid face is the same as his and I...
I missed you. I want to hit you, and hug you. Yeah."
Something moved across his face — guilt and want and old grief, all fighting for the same space.
"I missed you too," he said, low, like it cost him something to say out loud.
"Every single day. There wasn't a version of staying gone that didn't feel like losing something I couldn't afford to lose twice. "
"Then why—"
"Because staying was worse." Fast, like he needed it out before he could take it back. "You don't know how much worse. And it was nothing to do with the kiss. It was... it was other things, and nonsense, and I just needed to go. Okay."
Before I could push, he tipped his head, studying me a beat too long. "How did you even get out here? Orias doesn't strike me as the type to let you wander the Pines alone. Not lately."
Heat crawled up my neck. "I told him I had a delivery to sort at the shop."
"You lied to him."
"I—" I fumbled, caught. "It wasn't a whole lie."
"Amber." He said my name like it already knew everything. "He knows. He always knows when you lie to him. You think you can slip out here without either of us finding out? We can hear your heartbeat, sweetheart. We both know how much it races when you lie."
My face went hotter still, embarrassment tangled up with something else underneath it. "How would he even—"
"Because neither of us can stop watching you long enough not to notice something as simple as your pulse." He said it simply, like a fact of nature rather than a confession, and I had no idea what to do with the way my whole chest went warm and stupid in response.
Or with the fact I also kind of wanted to kiss him.
Then kick him in the shins and run away.
Before I could find an answer, the wind picked up again, harder this time, tearing through the trees hard enough to send leaves whipping into the air around us. Rowan's eyes flickered, and he turned sharply toward the edge of the clearing, every trace of softness gone from his face in an instant.
"Go home," he said, urgent now. "Whatever you think you're looking for, you won't find it here. Ignore the whispers from now on."
"I—"
"Now, Amber. Trust me."
The force behind it startled me enough that I turned and hurried back down the path without arguing, heart pounding, not stopping until the trees and shadows of the Whispering Pines had faded behind me.
Even running, I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.
Couldn't shake the deeper feeling underneath it — that there was more to Rowan's return than I understood yet, because I already knew why he'd left in the first place.
I'd known it since the night of the funeral, watching him disappear before the wake had even ended, because it was exactly what I would have done too, if my mother's memory hadn't still needed me here.
Cian had vanished the same night my dad had.
Neither of them had ever been found.
And for some reason... I had the strangest feeling that I was next.