Chapter 4
Chapter Four
The Healing Cottage
Where Comfort Comes Before the Cure
Bria stepped out of the healing cottage, the door closing softly behind her as the sounds within faded to a murmur.
She had been busy all day, calming those in need for a variety of reasons.
Some were so heavy it took much of her strength and others needed nothing more than a light comforting touch.
But the sheer volume of it had taken its toll on her.
Night had settled over Willowmere, the autumn air carrying a strong chill, and she pulled her cloak tighter around her. The village—so often filled with the quiet comfort of routine—appeared unusually quiet tonight. Fear of what might linger in the forest, keeping everyone close to home.
She drew in a slow breath, ready to seek the comfort of her cottage.
Exhaustion pressed at her limbs, heavy and unrelenting, but it was not weariness alone that weighed on her.
It was that her thoughts had strayed far too much to Kaelan.
She had to push them aside all day and yet they continued to return.
She had never experienced anything like it, and it concerned her.
A soft creak sounded behind her, and she turned as the cottage door opened.
Leya stepped out, a tankard held carefully in her hands, a fitted lid secured tightly atop it to keep its contents from spilling.
“For Kaelan,” Leya said before Bria could ask, adjusting her grip slightly. “He may need your comforting touch along with it.”
“Aye,” she said, not sure why she found pleasure in the task.
“Better you than me,” Leya said, with a shiver. “He unsettles me. Did you not feel it in him?”
“Strength,” Bria found herself saying. “I mostly found strength in him.”
“All the more reason he unsettles me. His strength in body alone surpasses that of anyone here in Willowmere.” Leyla shivered. “It’s a chilly one tonight. Hurry to see your chore done, then seek the heat of your cottage.”
“You know my thoughts.” Bria laughed lightly, and so did Leya as she returned inside the main healing cottage.
Bria kept her steps swift, though they slowed when her gaze drifted toward the forest and the darkness beyond.
Had the creature she had come face to face with escaped from Driochmor?
Her chest tightened slightly. It made no sense. Nothing from that cursed land had been seen in Scotara—not in her lifetime, nor in the telling of those who came before. The king had forbidden it. Banished it.
Her thoughts lingered there, unease curling deeper within her. If such a thing truly walked the woods, why had it left Driochmor?
Turning, she made her way through the village, her steps slower now, the quiet pressing in around her. Lamps glowed softly in windows, their light offering little comfort against the stretch of darkness beyond.
The healing cottage stood at the edge of the village on purpose. It was meant to be a place of calm and quiet so the ill could heal peacefully.
A faint unease settled in her chest as she approached, though she told herself it was nothing more than the weight of the night.
She reached the door, lifted her hand, rapped enough to be heard, then pushed it open. The hinges gave a soft, familiar creak.
“Kaelan?” she called gently.
She was met with silence.
She stepped inside. The cottage was dim, the last of the fire’s glow casting faint shadows along the walls.
“Kaelan?” she called again, louder this time.
Nothing.
The space remained unchanged, undisturbed… empty.
He was gone.
A chill slipped through her, sharper than the night air outside. She glanced around the cottage slowly. Aside from the slightly rumpled bedding, it was as though he had never been there.
It was there her attention settled, where he had rested. It was the only sign that he had been there at all, the only proof that the man who had unsettled her thoughts more than she cared to admit had not been some passing imagining.
She found herself stepping closer before realizing she had done so. Close enough that she need only reach out.
Her hand lifted, hovering just above the bedding, the faint impression of his presence still there, as though the warmth of him had not yet fully faded.
The thought came quietly, but with enough weight that she did not ignore it.
Would it work?
The question lingered, unsettling in its persistence. She had not meant to consider it, yet once it had taken hold, it refused to be dismissed so easily.
And if it did…
Her fingers curled slightly, hesitation taking hold. It was not simply curiosity that gave her pause, but something deeper. A reluctance born not of uncertainty, but of knowing too well what might come of it.
She had never sought such knowledge and had never wished for it. Yet she could not deny that it had found her all the same.
The memory rose unbidden. A simple task, no different from countless others.
A necklace brought to her for repair, the delicate wiring loosened around a deep red stone that had caught the light with quiet beauty.
The man who carried it had spoken easily, claiming it his own, something of little value beyond sentiment.
She had taken it in hand without thought, and the moment her fingers touched the gem, something struck her.
It had come without warning, a sensation that did not belong to her work, nor to any skill she had been taught.
There had been nothing gentle in it, nothing familiar.
It had unsettled her so deeply she had nearly let the piece fall from her hands, though she had forced herself to remain composed, to finish the repair, to return it without question.
Yet she knew the truth of the piece. It did not belong to the man who carried it—he had stolen it.
She had said nothing of the strange incident. Even when word reached the village days later of a thief moving from place to place, taking what was not his and passing himself off as something he was not, she had kept her silence.
What she had felt that day and what she had known, she had made sure to keep buried.
Bria drew her hand back, folding her arms lightly as if to contain the lingering urge to reach again. Whatever stirred within her when she allowed such thoughts to take hold, whatever truth it threatened to reveal—the consequences of what it might bring, unnerved her.
She turned to leave before she could give it any further thought, then stopped and turned to glance at the bed again.
What if it could help? What if it could reveal where Kaelan had gone? Or was it that she wanted to know what made him leave? Or would it reveal the unexplainable pull she had toward him? Was temptation worth it or would it make matters worse?
Bria battled with herself over what she should do.
Finally, with a sigh of resignation or perhaps surrender, she stepped toward the bed.
That’s when the door opened.
She turned as Kaelan entered the cottage unable to hide the surprise on her face.
“You thought me gone?” he asked and closed the door behind him, then stepped toward her.
For a moment, he seemed larger somehow… his shoulders broader, his muscles thicker, and his presence more commanding than she remembered. She did not quite understand, but it was enough to have her taking cautious steps away from him.
She quickly gestured to the tankard on the table. “For you, as promised. And, aye, with the cottage empty, it seemed a logical conclusion to presume you had left.”
“Personal needs called for a brief absence,” he explained and went to the table and took the tankard in his hand. “Fear haunts your village. Is there anything being done to find this creature?”
She noticed then how easily he moved as if he suffered no pain, and that he wore his leather vest when he was advised against it.
“Word was sent to the king and Lord Edmond, regional lord of southeastern Leighfeld,” she said.
“And will he be of any help?” he asked before taking a generous gulp. Her hesitation told him enough. “He is a useless lord?”
“Edmond has been a good regional lord.”
“So, he is old and no longer capable of serving the king as he should.” Kaelan lowered the tankard to the table. “Your men should make sure to keep weapons close, though I doubt a creature as large as you claim would enter the village.”
“Why?” she asked, wondering how he might know that.
“Fear. The creature is probably just as fearful of humans as they are of him. He may have stumbled out of Driochmor and seeks to find its way home.”
She offered a counter opinion. “That seems unlikely after all these years of nothing escaping Driochmor.”
“Do you know that for sure?” he asked, taking slow steps toward her with each word.
Heat drifted off him as he got nearer to her, along with a scent that was quite pleasing, yet unfamiliar to her. It wasn’t a sweet scent or like the forest, filled with pine and fresh earth. Though it was earthy and unique and she found herself attracted to it.
Kaelan stopped in front of her. “There are no gates, nor fences, nothing to stop anyone or anything from leaving Driochmor.”
He moved closer, though he warned himself not to, so close their garments brushed. He watched as his scent consumed her, taking hold and not letting go. A soft gasp escaped her lips and she reached out, resting her hand on his chest to steady herself.
It was instant. Her touch delivered a jolt racing through him and leaving no doubt as to what he felt.
Her mind, not quite clear, had her speaking without thinking. “You should not be wearing your vest.”
Again, he warned himself to be cautious, but it did little good. He spoke low and soft, but it carried like a command. “Help me remove it.”
Bria tilted her head, staring at him for a moment.
“Your touch soothes and my shoulder aches,” he said as if sensing she needed an explanation. Or was he the one who needed it?
She nodded and undid the ties on either side, then lifted his vest, his hand coming to rest on hers to help her.
A jolt shot through her, swirled around, and almost swept her breath from her.
“In time, you will come to understand,” he said, having felt it himself.
“Understand what?” she asked and forced herself to step away from him.
“Distance will make no difference,” he cautioned.
“You are making no sense.”
“It will take time for you to grasp, to accept.”
Bria shook her head. “If you explained, I might just grasp it, though whether I accept it or not remains to be determined.”
“You have no choice. Fate has decreed it,” Kaelan said.
“I believe I will take my leave now and when you decide to explain it—whatever it may be—you can let me know,” Bria said, the heat in the cottage too much even though the hearth’s flames had nearly died.
“It is too soon—in time.”
She shook her head again, her brow puckering. “A fever might explain your odd behavior.”
She reached out to touch his brow.
He stepped back out of reach, his dark eyes flashing with concern. “I do not think you should do that. Not right now.”
“You may have a fever,” she said, worried.
“I have no fever,” he insisted.
“Why refuse my touch now when only moments ago you asked for help in removing your vest?”
“I wanted to confirm what I knew was so, even if the time wasn’t right.”
“There you go making no sense again.” She stopped him when he went to speak. “And do not say—in time I will understand.”
“Those words hold truth—”
She interrupted him. “That does not presently serve me well.”
“But will, eventually.”
Bria sighed. “I am leaving. Drink the brew and tomorrow you will make more sense.”
She stepped around him and almost reached the door.
“Bria.”
His voice drifted over her like a gentle whisper but with the strength of a shout that wrapped around her and wouldn’t let go.
She turned and he was there, right behind her. His arm slipped around her, drawing her up against him. His lips settled on hers in a warm, tender kiss that promised so much more, and the sensation surged too strong through her, darkness swallowing her whole.