Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Driochmor
The Forbidden Land
Bria woke slowly. The quiet of her cottage settled around her before her thoughts could fully take hold. For a moment, she did not move.
The faint light of morning filtered through the narrow window, soft and familiar, resting across the table near the hearth and the small things she had left there the night before. Nothing appeared disturbed. Nothing out of place.
And yet…
She lay still beneath the covers, her brow faintly drawn as something refused to settle.
The last thing she remembered… her breath caught lightly.
Kaelan.
The warmth of him. The closeness. The way his arm had drawn her near and the feel of his lips against hers, gentle yet carrying a depth that had stolen her breath before she had even thought to pull away.
Then… nothing.
Bria pushed herself up slowly, the blanket falling back as she sat at the edge of the bed. She glanced down at herself, noting at once that she was still fully clothed, her cloak draped across the nearby chair as though placed there with care.
Had she returned here on her own?
She searched her memory, reaching for something, anything, that might explain it, but there was only the kiss, vivid and undeniable, and then a blankness she could not bridge.
A dream?
The thought did not sit well.
There had been nothing uncertain in it, nothing fleeting as dreams often were. She could still feel it, the warmth lingering faintly, the memory too clear, too real.
Bria rose and moved slowly through the small space, her hand brushing absently along the table as she passed. Everything remained as she had left it, the quiet order of her cottage unchanged, offering no answers to what she could not recall.
Her fingers stilled briefly.
In time, you will come to understand.
His words returned to her with unwelcome clarity.
She drew in a slow breath, pushing the thought aside before it could take hold too firmly. There were more immediate matters to see to. The village had not yet calmed, not after what had been set in motion, and there would be those who needed tending.
Work would bring clarity. It always did.
She brewed chamomile leaves while she freshened her face with a splash of water from the bucket near the hearth, then drew a bone comb through her hair and tied it back with a leather strip. After drinking only half the brew, she gathered her cloak and stepped outside.
The morning air met her with a crisp chill, carrying the scent of damp earth and fallen leaves. Willowmere stirred but not as it always did. An unease lingered. Movement remained cautious, voices lower, glances cast more often toward the forest than toward one another.
She feared Willowmere would not easily return to what it had been. Not until the creature was caught.
Bria pulled her cloak more securely about her shoulders and made her way along the familiar path, her thoughts and steps leading her where she hadn’t intended to go… to Kaelan.
She needed to speak with him. Needed to know what had happened the night before, or the distraction of it would soon begin to interfere with her work.
The quiet deepened as she neared the recovery cottage. No one lingered near it—understandably so, given its closeness to the forest.
Her gaze shifted that way and she stilled.
Something moved among the trees.
Her breath caught, her hand rising instinctively to her chest as she strained to see more clearly. Then recognition struck.
Kaelan.
He moved with purpose, already beyond the safety of the village boundary, heading into the forest as though he had every intention of going deeper still.
Bria hesitated. She was not one to take such chances. She valued the certainty of her life, the safety of Willowmere, the quiet rhythm she understood.
And yet… she found herself moving. At first, only a step. Then another. Then faster. Why she followed, she could not say. Only that she could not seem to stop.
Bria kept her distance as she followed, careful where she placed each step, mindful of every sound that might carry ahead of her. The forest closed around her quickly, the light thinning beneath the canopy, the air cooler and touched with the scent of damp earth and fallen leaves.
Kaelan did not slow.
He moved with purpose, his strides steady and sure, as though the forest offered no obstacle to him, no uncertainty. It struck her then how different he seemed here—more at ease, more aware—his attention not wandering as others’ might, but fixed, intent.
Bria eased closer, drawn as much by curiosity as by the quiet pull she could not ignore.
He slowed at last. Not by much, but enough that she noticed. Then he stopped.
Bria stilled at once, remaining where she was, watching as he lowered himself slightly, one hand brushing the ground as though reading something there that she could not see from where she stood.
Her gaze followed the movement, searching.
There was nothing obvious. No broken branch, no disturbance she could easily mark. And yet he studied the ground as though it spoke to him.
Bria took another careful step forward. Then another.
He did not turn. Did not so much as shift in acknowledgment of her presence.
Still, she continued, drawn closer, unable to ignore the need to see what he saw… or to understand what he sought.
He rose slowly.
For a moment, she thought he would move on without a word.
Instead, without turning, he spoke. “It would be safer if you remained closer.”
The quiet authority in his voice halted her where she stood more surely than if he had faced her outright.
Bria frowned slightly. “You knew I followed.”
“I knew the moment you stepped beyond the trees,” he said, having heard her movements and knowing, without question, it was her.
She crossed the remaining distance between them, though she did not come fully to his side, her gaze dropping briefly to the ground where he had been looking.
“I made no effort to hide it,” she said.
“Aye, you did,” he returned calmly. “You simply do not know how to do it well.”
Her head lifted at that, a spark of irritation stirring, something she rarely if ever felt. “And you believe you do?”
“I know I do.” The certainty in his voice left little room for argument.
Bria chose not to pursue it further—for now.
“What did you find?” she asked instead.
Kaelan inclined his head slightly toward the ground. “Look closer.”
Bria stepped forward, her attention narrowing as she studied the earth more carefully this time. The soil had been disturbed, though not in any way that would have drawn her notice at a glance. Leaves pressed down unevenly, the faintest impressions marking where something heavy had passed.
“These are not from any animal I know,” she said quietly.
“They are not,” he agreed.
Her gaze shifted, following the trail as far as she could see, the marks fading where the ground hardened.
“It came this way, close to the village,” she said, fear of what could have happened sending a shiver through her.
“We’re not that close. You’ve walked further into the forest than you realized,” he said glancing around.
Bria took in her surroundings more carefully then, noting how the trees and foliage had grown denser. He was right. She was much deeper in the forest than she expected.
“We need to return to the village,” she said anxiously.
“Nay, I mean to follow the tracks.”
His voice was strong with determination, the look in his eyes stubborn. He would have it no other way; let no one stop him.
She shook her head, not knowing how to dissuade him, but sensing that she must. “That is not wise, and for what purpose? To prove what we already know? That something dangerous walks these woods?”
A roar sounded in the distance and Kaelan hurried his arm around Bria and pulled her close, shielding her.
“We need to go back to the safety of the village,” she insisted, worried the creature would tear him apart, like it did the Hunter, if their paths should cross.
“Nay, I can’t take the chance of losing it.”
“And I can’t take the chance of you being harmed,” she argued. “You are still recovering from a serious wound that needed to be stitched. You cannot go hunting a beast of such size and strength. Your stitches will come undone.”
His arm left her waist and his hand latched onto hers. “Then it is best you come with me.”
Bria shook her head at once, pulling against his hold, though he did not release her. “Nay. I will not leave Willowmere to chase after some unknown beast. I am needed there. There are people who depend on me.”
“And they will remain so whether you stand within the village or just beyond it,” he said, his grip firm, though not painful. “You have already come this far.”
“That was not my intent,” she argued. “I came to find you, not to follow you deeper into danger.”
“And yet you followed.”
His words struck true, and she did not like it.
“I will return,” she said, her voice steadier now, more resolved. “You may do as you wish, but I will not be drawn into it.”
She moved to step past him.
He did not allow it. Not forcefully, but with quiet certainty, he shifted just enough to block her path, his presence alone enough to halt her progress.
“You would walk back alone?” he asked, having no intention of letting her do so.
“I have done so before.”
“Before what now moves through these woods?”
She held his gaze, refusing to yield. “I will take my chances.”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “You speak of duty, of those who rely on you. Yet you would risk not returning to them at all.”
“I do not frighten so easily,” she said, though the echo of the roar still lingered in her mind.
“Fear has little to do with it.”
“Then what does?” she challenged.
For a moment, he said nothing.
The forest seemed to press closer around them, the quiet deepening, the space between them charged with more than words alone.
Then he spoke. “What do you truly fear, Bria?”
Her breath caught softly at the question, though she would not show it.
“Leaving your home?” he continued, his voice lower now, more deliberate. “The creature that hunts these woods?”