Chapter 7
“Ineed a glass of wine. Like, right now. Do you want one too?” I asked over my shoulder as I went into the kitchen to retrieve a bottle of wine.
Forrest hummed in agreement.
“I think we went about that the best way we could, but I have this unsettling feeling that it’s going to blow up in our faces anyway.” I handed Forrest a large glass of wine and made my way to the opposite end of the sofa.
“Why do you say that? The plan seems to be fairly solid, in my opinion,” he replied before taking a sip of his wine.
“Most of the women I help aren’t so closely connected to the very group of people who cause me the most stress.
I am essentially an enemy of the Cult of Children, and they are simply biding their time, waiting for a valid reason to attack me.
This would give them more than enough to come after me and follow through on their threats.
I can’t ignore my gut telling me that this is all going to end very badly for everyone involved. ”
I brought my legs up underneath me and wrapped one of the quilts lying on the back of the sofa around me.
“That said, I think we should have some sort of escape plan, just in case.” I looked at Forrest. “Tomorrow we should each put together a bag with some clothes and supplies. That way, if anything happens, we can quickly grab them and head for the Nightwood. They won’t follow us into the forest. They’re too scared to do so.
We can camp out there for a few nights if needed. ”
“What would we do after that?” Forrest asked. “I assume if the penalty for aiding Violet’s sister were death, they wouldn’t let up so easily.”
He wasn’t wrong. We would probably need to leave the village altogether.
There were a few small villages northeast of here that we could hide in.
The Cult of Children had a significantly reduced presence the further north one went up the continent.
The people who lived in the more remote villages believed in the same goddesses as them, but they didn’t apply the scripture in the restrictive fashion that the Cult of Children chose to throughout the rest of the continent.
If we made our way north, we’d at least be safe from the Cult of Children for a short while, until we could figure out a more thorough plan.
I drained the rest of my glass, my nerves no more settled. “If we need to, we’ll figure something out. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, though.”
The weight and seriousness of the situation hit me like a ton of bricks. My heart felt like it was going to beat out of my body. Instinctively I placed my hand over it to confirm it was still inside my chest. I had to take a break from this conversation, or my anxiety would spiral out of control.
I rose from the sofa. “I need another glass of this. Do you want more?”
Forrest lifted his half-full glass and shook his head. The motion set free a few rogue strands of his tousled chestnut hair. Slowly tucking the hair behind his elongated ear, he looked at me and smiled. I smiled back, mesmerized by the unbelievable being in front of me.
I stood in the kitchen, leaning on the counter, and peered out the bay window into the Nightwood.
I had to give myself a few moments to catch my breath and settle my nerves.
The Nightwood was especially dark and ominous tonight.
The towering hemlocks blocked out the moonlight, and the ever-present mist was starting to roll out over the tree roots and beyond the boundary.
It moved as if sentient, as if it could sense the consuming fear and anxiety calling to it like a wolf howling at the moon.
Suddenly I felt a cold, prickling sensation on the back of my neck.
Goosebumps covered my flesh, and I had the distinct feeling that I was being watched.
I closed my eyes, shuddered, and turned around to head back into the living room.
Once I had reacquainted myself with the sofa and quilt, Forrest looked over at me and said, “I know that my opinion on the matter is inconsequential, as I am not from here, nor have I known you for very long, but it would be remiss of me if I didn’t tell you that I think very highly of you as both a person and a healer.
What I’ve overheard this past week from the various villagers who’ve come to you for help is that you mean a lot to those who live here.
Everything you do is for the greater good, despite the very serious consequences that could befall you.
I believe Violet said it best: You are not a blasphemous witch. You are goddess-sent.”
I stared at Forrest in stunned silence. Very rarely was I ever at such a loss for words.
In this moment, I felt seen, validated, and respected.
If his words hadn’t touched me so deeply, I would have said it was funny that it took a complete stranger with memory loss to recognize and verbalize those thoughts to me.
“Thank you, Forrest,” I said, looking down at my hands, bottom lip quivering.
I couldn’t look him in those stunning azure eyes, because I knew as soon as I did, I would lose the fingertip grasp I had on my emotions.
“That was incredibly thoughtful of you to say. Truth be told, I didn’t always want to be here, helping these people.
I wanted to go south to see what other opportunities I could find there.
My dream was to travel the Southern Isles and meet new people, who had different views on life, different beliefs, and other ways of thinking.
I longed for somewhere less confined. Somewhere where freedom actually existed for anyone who wasn’t a man.
Unfortunately, my grandmother, who was the village healer before me, passed away suddenly when I was sixteen.
I felt pressured to remain, like it was my responsibility to stay and take over her practice. ”
I took a breath and hung my head. Thinking about my grandmother always made me so sad.
If she were here right now, she would walk right into that sanctuary and tell Maxx where to shove his nonsense.
She would raise the Eternal Night and take no prisoners.
But she wasn’t here, and the villagers were forced to make do with a less-than-impressive version of her.
“What about your parents? Did they not live here as well?” Forrest asked. “I’ve heard you talk about your grandmother, but I’ve never heard you talk about your parents.”
“Both of my parents are dead,” I stated, offering no further explanation.
“Is it impolite to ask what happened?”
I knew Forrest meant well, so I wasn’t upset with him being curious.
“I don’t talk about my parents a lot, because I didn’t know them.
My father worked in the mines on Mount Morningstar.
Shortly after I was born, there was a blasting accident.
Some explosives detonated by mistake, and my father was in the mine, as well as several others.
None of them made it.” I stopped to take a breath before continuing.
“My mother was apparently so distraught at losing my father that she died from a broken heart. From then on, it was just me and my grandmother.”
Forrest reached out. “I am so sorry, Aurelia. That is awful.”
“I wish I knew more about who they were or what they were like, but my grandmother had a hard time talking about them. She would get so upset anytime I brought them up, so I eventually just stopped asking.”
Tears started rolling down my cheeks. “My grandmother was my everything. The last thing I ever wanted to do was disappoint her. I’ve always tried to help these people as best I can, but sometimes I feel like I’m not doing enough.
I’m one person trying to tackle a problem that is so much bigger than me.
There have been many times when I’ve just wanted to give up and leave, but then I think of my grandmother.
She would never have done that, ever. She would have stayed and fought, so that’s what I’m trying to do, I guess. ”
At this point, I couldn’t hold back the sobs. My face had become a mess of tears. My voice was small and raw. Forrest probably thought I was behaving like a small, pathetic child having a little meltdown and feeling sorry for myself.
He was suddenly in front of me, his hands cupping my cheeks as he wiped away my tears with his thumbs.
“Aurelia, you do not understand how truly wonderful you are. You are fierce and brave. You stand up for what you believe is right, despite the risks. You have enough courage in your small body to rival that of all the warrior men in those romance novels of yours.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at that comparison.
“If you won’t believe in yourself, then I suppose I will have to do it for you.” Forrest leaned in, his fingers brushing lightly against my jawline—his touch was hesitant. His eyes were staring directly into mine, a silent question being asked.
It was like time had slowed down, waiting for me to decide.
I turned my face into his hand and nodded slightly.
Without a moment’s hesitation, his lips were on mine in a soft, lingering press.
A slow warmth bloomed within me, spreading through my body like fire ravaging a dry forest. His kisses were gentle at first, then demanding.
His lips parted slightly; mine did so in return.
His breath was warm, with the faintest traces of wine lingering on his tongue as he finally deepened the kiss.
A small gasp escaped me as he slid his hand to the back of my neck, fingers threading into my hair, as if he was anchoring me.
My body yielded to him, to his touch. I placed my hands on his chest and felt the strong beating of his heart beneath my fingertips.
The heat rolled off his body in waves, inviting me in deeper; I leaned into the kiss harder, feeling and tasting him on my tongue.
My teeth caught on his bottom lip, tugging just enough to send a shiver through him, before I soothed the pain with another deep, drugging kiss.